ᢉ𐭩 fem!reader, little yuji is cold in the middle of the night, so he cuddles up next to you and sukuna
it’s the middle of the night when you hear the door creak. you nuzzle into sukuna’s chest, thinking you’re just imagining things as you keep your eyes closed.
but small pitter-patters of feet make its way to your side of the bed, and a tiny hand tugs on the covers.
a soft hum of confusion escapes your lips as you rub the sleep from your eyes and squint at the blurry fluff of pink hair looking up at you.
“‘s too cold… can i sleep wif you..?” yuji asks, looking up at you with his big brown eyes as he clutches his little blanket and his tiger plushie held tight in his chubby arms.
“mhm, c’mere, baby,” you murmur, picking him up by the armpits and settling him in between you and ryomen.
a groan comes from said man, and he goes to turn on his back when yuji hits his chest.
ryomen stops turning and grumbles, “what’re you doing, brat? go back to bed…”
“‘s too cold!” yuji complains, moving to lay on sukuna’s chest.
“you’re going to make me overheat. get off.”
“nooo!”
“shhht!” you kick your legs and shush them, “figure something out and be quiet…” you murmur, already falling asleep.
silence occupies the room when suddenly yuji not so quietly whispers in sukuna’s ear, “i’m sleeping here,” while lying on his chest.
“you are not. get-“
sukuna’s interrupted when he’s kicked by a pair of colder feet next to him, and he scoffs. yuji tries to muffle his giggles in his hand but fails, as you can’t keep a smile off your face with adorable sounds like that.
as soon as you’re about to fall asleep, a large hand pulls you closer, having your back facing away from him instead of toward him now. your leg naturally lies on his, and your cheek presses onto the muscle of his arm, using it as a pillow.
he keeps a hand secure on your head and pats yuji’s back, and although the little boy is passed out, sukuna mumbles, “sleep, brats,” as he protects the two people he loves the most.
def taking reqs for them… gonna make this a series if i have enough ideas
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thinking about timid boy yuji who wants to cum on your face so bad but he’s too shy and nice to ask. ｡˚○ mdni.
he thinks he’s filthy for it— tainting your pretty gorgeous face with spurts of his warm sticky cum, wanting to watch it just ooze and dribble down your cheeks while you look up at him with those blinking doe eyes he loves so much, you on your knees and just taking all that he gives you…
but he’s just too embarrassed to ask you for it, ashamed that his horn dog mind could ever crave something like this from you, not when you were just the sweetest and cutest little thing ever…
but that’s exactly what made him want it more.
he’s sick in the head he’s awful he’s disgusting—
“yu what’s wrong? you feeling sick?”
yuji jumped from his spot on the couch and whipped his head in your direction, eyes wide in alarm.
“oh! n— no i’m fine baby.” he attempted to laugh it off, but the strain in his jeans was getting unbearably fucking tight christ—
“you sure?” you frowned, pouting a little as you began to crawl closer across the couch, yuji immediately stiffening up in alarm and fidgeting, eyes darting between your concerned pretty face and the soft swell of your breasts— a perfect view of them from your low cut top.
how he of all people managed to get such a hot girlfriend he genuinely didn’t fucking know, the fact being the greatest and one of his biggest accomplishments, though at the same time a heavenly double edged sword with how his cock was permanently rock solid and never breathing when you were around.
“you look a little flushed baby.” you sat back on your knees and took his face in your hands, cupping his warm cheeks— your frown deepening at the look of his blown pupils.
“i—”
you lifted his face a tad to examine.
“you’re worrying me yu… you feel warm like— really warm… you coming on with a fever?”
your voice was so soft and caring, and yuji couldn’t help but imagine that same honeyed tone edging him on to dump his cum all over your face—
shut the fuck up shut the fuck up—
“no! i’m— i’m okay angel! honestly heh…” he gently took your hands from his cheeks and lowered them, watching as you pursed your cute lips to the side in dissatisfaction, and his limbs twitching— feeling his stupid dick gush out a bit of precum in his pants at the sight.
“it’s just—” he swallowed, shakily breathing through his nose. “m’just a little achy is all.”
you tilted your head in confusion.
“achy?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, squeezing carefully before sliding your palms down his arms, yuji’s breathing picking up then, chest ragged as you kept dragging your hands further, inspecting over him to see what was wrong.
“from what yu? tell me where—”
god why was he like this?
you were innocently just trying to figure it out and help him… it was him that was being a sick foul pervert that was potentially about to pounce on you and scare you off.
“it’s nothing baby i swear—”
your palms slid down to his lower abdomen and he sprang up from the couch, you jumping back in alarm— drawing your hands to your chest as your eyes stretched wide.
“the gym! the gym! i’m aching from the gym the—”
yuji looked at you and a guilty pang shot through his heart once he realized he fucking startled you, you staring up at him with a shaken expression— breaths quick, and him feeling his soul actively burning off his body because of it.
stupid stupid idiot stupid—
“fuck i’m sorry baby jesus.” his big hands came down to cup the sides of your head, you slowly easing a little at his reassurance. “i didn’t mean to scare you like that i’m sorry… i’m just being dumb—”
he paused.
from— from the way you were positioned, and from the way he was— holding your face…
your pretty plump lips were perfectly aligned with his bulging freaking dick.
yuji instantly went to rip himself away from you when you reached for his hips and stopped him midway, a choke tumbling from his throat as you firmly held him in place.
he could practically feel your breath through his jeans dear god—
“what hurts yu?” you sweetly asked, soft and airy and yuji could only frantically shake his head no.
you pouted.
“please.” you leaned the side of your cheek on his thigh, and he just about saw the heavens himself. “i— i wanna help yu… i don’t care what it is. i promise.”
yuji’s skin was tingling and itchy all over, a giant lump in his throat that he couldn’t pass no matter how many times he swallowed, his clammy hands then returning to your cheeks— lifting your head so he’d get a proper look at you.
he couldn’t take it anymore.
yuji was about to look like a vile fucking freak.
“my… my dick baby…” he softly explained, voice shaky as he used his thumbs to caress your cheeks, trying to bite down the embarrassment that rose up his system at the way your cheeks went red. “it’s just— a little tight but— it’s— it’s okay! i’ll deal with it la—”
“can i help..?”
his pupils blew out and he stopped breathing.
“please.” you finished off with a little timid smile, your kind glimmering eyes not once breaking from his. “i want to… if that’s okay.”
it was more than fucking okay.
“you wanna— help me baby?” he gave your cheeks a loving squeeze before letting your face go, taking your eager nod as a sign to keep going.
“okay…” yuji took a step back. “can— can you get on your knees for me angel..?”
you nodded once more, shuffling a bit to get down on your knees, your skin padded against the soft fur rug of your carpet.
slowly… he shakily popped open his jeans and unzipped them, willing and begging his cock and mind to relax or else he was going to cum just by how gorgeous you looked on your knees for him…
“just—”
his dick literally jumped out from the confinements of his pants and you blushed, his own neck growing uncomfortably hot as he stared down at you with wobbly lips.
“just… suck for me a little?” yuji gave his length a languid pump, his tip already swelled up and irritatingly glistening. “you don’t have to do all of it baby… i don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
you parted your lips then and carefully took him into your mouth, suckling on the sticky tip and yuji having to inhale a sharp breath at how warm your tongue felt— fluttering and gliding along his slit before you sunk your lips a little further down his cock bit by bit.
“fuuuckk yes baby just like that—”
yuji shuddered and gripped tighter at the hem of his shirt, keeping it in place just above his abs to keep it out of your way, groaning at your mouth bobbing up and down his veiny dick, tiny bubbly suds of spit coating his base.
“god please don’t stop please—” he threw his head back and heaved, placing a trembling palm to the back of your head— gently guiding you through your wet mouthful slops that filled his ears so deliciously, your cheeks hollowing as you took it upon yourself to suck harder, you moaning through it and the vibrations making him that much more sensitive.
“shit!—”
he snapped his head back down and went lightheaded, your pretty little swollen lips wrapped around him so good and slurping him up so insanely messily, drool trickling down your chin as you made it your mission to help him feel better and relieve the ache he felt moments prior.
to be good for him.
“angel if you keep— sucking me like that m’gonna cum already— hic!— holy shit please slow down please—”
but you only went faster, bobbing your head without stopping even when you chocked on his cock through particularly deep swallows, him struggling to catch his breath and keep his balls from exploding and draining down your throat, jaw hardening in restraint as his abdomen stiffened up.
because that’s not where he wanted it.
jerking his hips back, yuji slipped his dick off your mouth in one swift motion with a pop!, you plopping down on your ankles and gasping for air at the sudden action, hands quickly coming up to wipe at your saliva coated lips.
“did i— do something wrong?” you panted, your doe eyes sincerely so uneasy that he nearly fell to his knees at how cute you were.
“i’m— i’m sorry yu—”
“god no baby you were fuckin’ perfect.” he breathed out, licking over his lips— half lidded ditzy eyes looking down at you as he pumped his cock over your face. “always so so perfect for me…”
and you beamed, a sweet smile spreading across your cheeks that made his balls twitch and stiffen, jerking himself faster.
“can i just—” he struggled on a moan, small tiny strained whimpers rumbling through him as he pumped, sticky obscene shlicks! echoing through the room that only made your face grow pinker in need.
“can i please please cum on your face angel?” yuji panted. “i won’t— shlick shlick shlick— make a mess i promise you i just— you’re so so pretty and you’d look so good with my cum on your face—”
without hesitation you nodded, and he wildly grinned at your permission, feeling fucking floored that his dream was coming true and he’d finally get to unload all over you like he’d nastily wanted for so long.
“thank you thank you!—”
yuji cupped a hand under your chin and gently brought your face up to keep you in place, his fist gripping his cock so hard and suffocating it as he jack hammered, babbling utter nonsense with his fogged horny brain entirely focused on you.
“stay just like this for me okay?” he was sweating, a tingling sensation twisting through his limbs that started manifesting from his pulsing tip. “can you— can you stick your tongue out baby? please? fuck m’gonna cum m’gonna cum—”
you quickly stuck your tongue out and laid it flat, the way you were so obedient absolutely ruining him from where he stood, moans grumbling through him that only grew louder and louder the closer he tipped over the edge.
“you’re so fuckin’ good to me baby—”
the grip he had on your jaw was subconsciously tightening, so much so that your cheeks were now mushed up between his fingers and making you look sluttier than before, his feral eyes brightening at the sight.
“you’ll let me do this again right?” he gulped, thin stringy lines of cum seeping from his slit and dangling lightly over your face. “you’ll let me cum on you? on— on your tummy maybe?”
“uh huh!” you spoke through your open mouth, and he basically cried— breathing erratic and the pacing jerk he had going on so insanely fast that it was borderline animalistic, endless strings of high pitched whimpers slipping from his lips.
“fuuuuccckkk! fuck fuck i love you i love you—”
his rhythm was relentless, sticky slicks sliding and pulling over his wet cock, until a white flash blurred his vision and yuji’s entire body locked up, a cold prickle washing over him then as he shot hot spurts of his load over your stunning awaiting face, gooey and thick— dripping over your flushed cheeks as you took it with one eye blinking shut.
yuji moaned so loudly, his gaze stuck watching you like glue and refusing to look away as he painted you, squeezing everything he had out of his cock to drown you in his release, up until the very last dribbling drop.
he swallowed and tried to catch his breath, speaking up after a few panting moments, letting his softened cock rest against the side of your cheek.
“you— you okay baby?” yuji wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, a tired smile breaking out once he heard you giggle.
“mhm! i am yu.”
you licked up cum from your lips and his balls almost swelled in size again, his gaze still permanently trained on you.
“you look so pretty like this angel…” he murmured, and your heart fluttered, him collecting some of his white cum from the corner of your mouth— thumbing it through your suckling lips. “so so pretty…”
just like he’d imagined.
maybe next time he could do it on your tits!
a/n: IM OVULATING !!!!!! ALSO HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET MAN !!! - mdni, wc 2.1k, all characters aged up, cherry heart divider by @/angeliicide !! <3
your boyfriend is acting weird.. and he doesn't wanna face you?!
// idea from an ask
yuuji's been avoiding you. you haven't seen him since last week, and your needs as his girlfriend is making it too hard to ignore; not a single kiss, hug, or call.
sure, he'd text every once in a while... but every time you ran into him, he would bolt immediately with the flimsy excuse of having to meet ‘gojo-sensei’.
and at first, you believed it. maybe he was just busy with his missions or anything else related to it. but going through multiple days and suffering without an update from him or seeing his face — you've had enough. clearly, your boyfriend was touch-starving you on purpose if you still saw him with his friends.
if yuuji was cheating on you — you'll hit him and that skank! who was it? who has he been seeing? the least he could do was break up with you before finding someone else, geez!
8:03 PM, friday night. you lie in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with thoughts about him running all over your mind. you can't even believe there was still no say from yuuji himself. had he grown tired of you? surely not. usually on these types of days, you would be cooped up in bed with him, cuddling like you were about to merge into one another.
but unfortunately — the only thing you got out of the whole week subjected to absolutely no update from your boyfriend — was a sleezy candid picture of him training, sent by nobara two days ago. he wasn't even busy!
having been fed up with his antics, you decide to finally break the distance and send him a threatening loving reminder.
-
meanwhile, said cheating boyfriend itadori yuuji, stands facing the mirror — gauging his looks desperately. he ruffles his hair, then fixes it again, running his fingers through the silky strands. he groans in irritation upon realizing the time he's wasted trying his best to look good. these past few days have been.. quite a blur.
but now it's friday. a day he's supposed to be at his girlfriend's place like usual.
then comes a specific notification, a bell ringtone pings his phone. another follows.. and another. yuuji takes one look at his phone and sees it's you. at first, he's excited. he can feel the blood rush in his system.
however, the texts you sent.. uh oh.
“don't even bother itadori after u ignored me”
“u clearly love that actress more than me, go ahead jerk off yuuji”
“if u show up i will murder and dump u you asshole”
yuuji chokes in horror, “oh god, i am cooked.” indeed he was. you weren't half-assing one word. yuuji knows that whenever you're mad — it'd be like godzilla on the loose. he stares right back at himself in the mirror, smiling then frowning over and over again.
“these sssth-stupid braces! damn it— can't even meet my girlfriend.. i look like a geek!”
well, he got braces.
the teal-colored brackets shine in the light as yuuji fusses over them as if it'll do anything to fix the messy situation right now, sighing in exasperation. was he seriously about to get dumped? what the— he didn't mean to avoid you for that long!
yuuji's holding a bouquet of your favorite lush flowers in one hand, planning to apologize for everything and lying about why. but with how long he's taking drowning in self-pity — he'll be late. truth is, yuuji really didn't mean to ignore you. it's just that his smile is weird in these ‘dumb’ braces, and he thought you wouldn't like it at all, so he kindddd of hid from you without thinking about it thrice.
but now faced with the threat of you breaking up with him if he doesn't make things right — yuuji knows the only option is to finally man up and say sorry. (even if you murder him, and don't like his braces. it's better than ending up with no girlfriend at all.)
what if you end up hating it? what if you think he looks like a nerd? what if you end up leaving him for a better guy, and he has no braces, and he's cuter, and—
yuuji already hates his braces though he just got them two weeks ago. he thinks it completely nerfed his looks! worse, the idiot he is, he even ignored his girlfriend who he loves because of it! he's messing up real bad with the choices he's making.. but not to fret, he's getting ready to win you back.
it took about an hour for him to get to your apartment with the traffic, but he's here. he knows you told him not to come — but what idiot wouldn't? he loves you for god's sake, and if that means having to show you his braces, then he'll do it in the name of love. you're the one person he'll never want to lose.
yuuji clears his throat as he's now in front of your door, mind wracked with every possible scenario that might play out. you kissing him and accepting the apology.. or you slamming the door in his face! it doesn't matter which one, as long as he gets your forgiveness and gets to prove to you how much he loves you despite being a total dumbass.
straightening his suit and fixing his tie, all the while gripping the flowers tight in his hand, yuuji's more nervous than he's ever been in his whole entire life facing his pretty girlfriend who's pissed. if he's dying tonight, he's glad it'll be in your hands.
one light knock — he lets it stay silent for a while, then does another. just as he was about to raise his hand for a third one, your furrowed eyebrows and cold stare greets him.
“babe—”
slam!
the words don't even make it out of his mouth before you've already closed the door on yuuji just like he predicted. you chose the latter, unfortunately for him. he doesn't blame you at all, he was an asshole for leaving you hanging without saying anything at all. this won't stop him though, unfortunately for you.
“i'm sss-sorry! goddamn it..” yuuji yells from outside. his words trail off with a lack of confidence. you can hear it even as you're back in the living room with how loud he was. for some reason, you think you can hear a lisp at the start of ‘sorry’. and you thought you just heard wrong — but when yuuji apologizes again with his voice raised to the max and messes up the s, you know it's not your hearing.
your phone rings, and you see the caller id reading: “yuu <3”. you slowly pick up though your pride refused to — voice already lacing itself with annoyance and unmistakable excitement. he ignored you for a whole week. he can't just show up now!
“what is it?” you sigh.
“baby, m’ sorry. open the door, please. i'll explain!” he begs, and you can hear the ‘s’ softly whistle. you'd have to admit, it was pretty cute. but in regards that, you wonder why exactly yuuji's speaking like this. you're pretty sure when you met him he didn't have a lisp.. unless you had the hearing of an old woman to not notice it first-hand.
you quietly trudge back to the door, twisting the knob and leaving the door ajar, enough for you to peak out and see yuuji.
and there your fool-of-a-boyfriend is, clutching his tie and the bouquet while he stands awkwardly just a few distances away from the door. his pink hair is combed, different from when it's always a little messy. (in a good way)
he walks closer hesitantly, swallowing the lump in his throat.
yuuji holds out the flowers for you to take, and you scoff — but ultimately accept it. butterflies swarm your stomach though you're supposed to be mad at the idiot. it seems like your heart was betraying you and was siding more with him. you can feel your cheeks heat up when his eyes meet yours.
“explain. now, cheater.”
“i wasn't cheating, babe! i could never. i love you, and you only. i—”
huh.
you notice it immediately when he smiled uncontrollably upon seeing your face flush, stuttering when he realized he was being cheesy. you were so gorgeous — yuuji wondered how he even survived avoiding you. he was the luckiest guy ever, and he decided to ignore the woman of his life? the great thing he was about to lose if he didn't stop being such a dimwit.
“smile for me.” you order, and yuuji obeys instantly, giving you the cutest beam ever. the teal braces suit him so well it was almost aggravating how handsome your boyfriend was. he was so adorable grinning ear-to-ear, ruining his hair now by ruffling it.
finally, your giggle cuts through the unbearable silence. by now, you've forgotten why you were mad exactly. your hands come up to cup yuuji's cheeks, squishing them playfully in your palms.
“you look like such a geek, yuu.”
“i know.. it's weird.” he pouted, melting into your touch. you pull him inside, closing the door behind you.
before you could even tell him that it wasn't weird at all — yuuji sweeped you off your feet and scooped you into his arms, his hands carefully hoisting firm support beneath your legs as he walked over to the couch.
to him, he feared you would hate how it made him look like a nerd. he was so shy about it. but to you, his braces took your breath away. he was so effortlessly attractive, and he didn't even realize it.
then, yuuji cautiously sets you down with grace; like you were too delicate for him to hold any longer because you'd shatter. he questioned the rhythm in the air first before leaning in closer — so much closer his warm breath tickled the crook of your neck. yuuji's hands settling on a comfortable spot on your hips, tenderly squeezing them in his palms.
your fingers find their way to his messy pink hair, mindlessly twisting and playing with the strands. yuuji can feel the way you're holding him nearer than the way you did earlier — closing his eyes and insuppressibly smiling to himself. he missed this bad. the moron he was decided to run away from this? from you?
“do you really like my braces?” yuuji mumbles, still buried where he could smell your perfume the most. you smelled like really good, like him in a way — and like your shampoo that he loves inhaling the scent of whenever you finish showering.
there was a slight pause before you responded, with the concerned yuuji lifting his head up and raising a brow at you, waiting for an answer. if you say no right now, he might just get them off early already.
you grin, “i do! you look cute with them, i swear. my geeky boyfriend. you're lucky you know — i'm still mad at you, and yet here we are.”
it takes him a quick realization to acknowledge the fact you're completely right. well, not that you're ever wrong anyway. happy wife, happy life. (he'll marry you soon, trust)
also, luckily for yuuji, you quickly forgot about the way you were mad at him just by seeing his braces! he was saved from the intended scolding sessions and the silent treatment because of the one thing he disliked the most. did he really have that effect on you?
he knows you weren't irritated anymore.. and you knew you couldn't stay annoyed by him for that long anyway. it was impossible for you two to get frustrated at one another even if it were a big fight. you were weak for yuuji — and he was weak for you too.
“i swear i won't be a idiot anymore to you.. my gorgeous queen. i don't wanna be okay without you. also, i love you more than whichever actress you're talking about...” yuuji blushes, pressing soft kisses to your neck.
“stop the flattery you suck-up. hey wait.. so if it was jennifer lawrence— get out!”
ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ yuji has been waiting an eternity to play the role of super awesome supportive boyfriend when you’re on your period, but unfortunately for him, you’re not the best at staying on script.
ᝰ . itadori × reader ⌇ word count: 1.7K
itadori yuji loved to be needed by you.
it was the reason why when his phone vibrated, displaying your message of “raincheck? just got my period bleh :/” he immediately ditched megumi and nobara in favor of you, tossing a fleeting “sorry guys, boyfriend duties.” over his shoulder as he made a beeline straight for the nearest corner store.
the front door to your apartment clicked open, the rustle of plastic bags breaking the otherwise silence.
“baby, i’m here! i came as soon as—” the words died on his tongue when he finally caught sight of you. you, acting completely normal and finishing up with washing some dirty dishes. he cocked his head as a confused golden retriever would, the corners of his lips tugging downwards, dispirited.
the plastic bags spilled from his arms and onto the dining table clumsily—bags that were filled with all of your favorites. snacks, drinks, a little stuffed toy that reminded him of you, and even that one particular hoodie that you always found yourself stealing from him.
yuji often fantasized about being your knight in shining armor; his mind just couldn’t help but conjure up all sorts of scenarios in which he saved you heroically. whether that be from a super outrageous situation or something as mundane as the common cold.
he had thought about this specific scenario more than he would have liked to admit. he had thought about holding you so tightly, of you burying your face into his neck when your cramps got to be too much, of him rubbing soothing circles into your skin to help alleviate the pain. he was even packed with a full arsenal of knowledge about home remedies and what foods to avoid. itadori yuji had thought of everything.
when he walked in, he had expected to find you curled up in bed beneath the covers. to which he would have climbed in next to you, whispering that he was there to make it all better (corny, he knows). yet, there you were, standing in the kitchen as though you were completely fine.
“hey…” he pouted, visibly deflated. “i thought girls typically cramped and stuff. kugisaki said so.” his voice was low, the betrayal and disappointment beginning to cloud his eyes.
turning to him, you wiped your hands with a dish towel, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “well, i mean, yeah, but they’re not too bad right now.”
your boyfriend sank to his knees, the tile cold even through the fabric of his pants. all he had wanted to do was to impress you with his innate boyfriend abilities, but all he wanted to do in that moment instead was crawl into a hole and hide.
you chuckled at his dramatics. “yuj, you’re too good to me.” you were unable to hide the small smile that crept its way onto your lips. kneeling down with him, you wrapped your arms around his frame, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. “my sweet, sweet boyfriend,” you cooed, pulling away just enough to pat his cheek lovingly. “let’s go watch a movie, yeah?”
—
his eyes burned into your skull as you curled up on the couch with him. you shifted stiffly under his gaze, wondering what could possibly be going on in that brain of his. were you acting weird? did he know something you didn’t? was he plotting something, and should you be on guard? you scrunched your nose at all the possibilities, the action only causing him to lean in closer, anticipating.
“what’s wrong? anything yet?” he blurted, hovering over your body and inspecting every inch of you with his eyes. “how ‘bout now?”
you shook your head, pushing him off of you and laughing at his eagerness to serve you. it was odd, but there was also something endearing about the fact that he wanted to take care of you, of how he wanted to prove how good of a boyfriend he was.
“c’mon, babe, won’t you throw a poor guy a bone?” he whined and threw his head back against the cushions, body limp and beginning to slouch.
truly, you were feeling better than was typical for you; your body had decided to be kind this time around and kept your symptoms minimal and tolerable. but yuji didn’t know that, perhaps it would be best if you played along for just a bit without being too obvious.
“y’know, a nice cold drink sounds good right about now,” you said, tapping a finger pensively against your chin.
yuji perked up at your words, eyes lighting up with the utmost elation. “on it!” he saluted you before darting into the kitchen to dig through his corner store haul. not even two seconds later, he returned with two cans of your favorite soda, still ice cold despite them having been left on the table.
you thanked him with yet another kiss on the cheek, grabbing the can from his hands before returning your attention back to the movie on screen. somehow, you two had ended up agreeing on the longest series known to mankind, and somewhere in between the second and third movie the bright colors and rapid changing scenery had begun to make your head buzz.
that in combination with the strong vanilla candle burning on the mantle and your heightened sensitivity wasn’t the most ideal combination. the seed of a migraine had been planted and it would only go downhill from there, that much you knew. it wouldn’t be much longer before your body fully succumbed to the pain, but you also didn’t want to be a party pooper and bail out on yuji either. he was completely engrossed in the action, reacting to every scene and dramatic line.
you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, pressing the cold can of soda against your forehead in hopes of mild relief—no matter how short-lived.
what you had tried your best to make seem a casual, discreet act piqued your boyfriend’s interest. the thing about yuji was that when it came to you, he was observant and receptive. he took notice of all the subtleties—how you closed your eyes when there was a particularly bright flash, the way you kept your nose covered with the blanket, and the way you used your cold drink as a makeshift ice pack.
getting up from his seat, he extinguished the candle, placing it as far away from you as possible before clicking the television off, all while mumbling something about how that one in particular was the most boring of the series and he was tired of watching it. in truth, he wasn’t actually bored of it, but he’d never admit that to you.
when he did so, he couldn’t help but note the relieved, yet confused, look on your face. the blanket dropped from your hold and eyelids slowly fluttered open at the absence of the bright lights.
“you okay?” he knelt in front of you, the back of his hand resting on your forehead to check for fever.
you nodded, eyes closing once more. “mhm,” you hummed and leaned into his touch as his hand drifted from your forehead down to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently at your cheekbone.
“i’ll be right back,” he whispered, lips finding their way to your forehead.
you listened as his footsteps faded away into the other room—the kitchen most likely—until the sound of his steps grew closer and once again he was kneeling before you. this time, however, with a glass of water and a small bottle of your preferred painkillers.
sitting up—hair disheveled and all—you took the pills, chasing them down with the glass of cold water. you had barely set the glass down when yuji hooked his arms underneath your legs and carried you into the bedroom. the bedroom where he had unmade the bed and drew all the curtains shut so it was as dark and comfortable as possible.
“just call if you need me, okay?”
you lied still as he walked out, not daring to move a muscle until you were able to hear him rustling around in the living room, cleaning up after all the snack wrappers and whatnot. your head went dizzy the moment you stood, but you did your best to power through and stumbled your way through the creaking door and into the hallway.
“yuj…?” you called out softly.
the rustling ceased. “hey, baby, what’s up?” he poked his head into the hallway where he caught you standing with a blanket around your shoulders.
“get in here and cuddle with me.”
a boyish grin that quickly evolved into a full-fledged cheshire cat smile stretched its way onto his lips. he didn’t waste a moment more, his body moving of its own volition, arms briskly sweeping you off your feet—as gently as he could muster so as to not aggravate your delicate state—before taking you back to bed.
his arms were strong around you as he shifted to fit himself against your body, chests pressed together and legs intertwined, before cocooning the both of you beneath the covers. his head dipped low, his lips finding purchase on your bare shoulder where the warmth seemed to seep straight through his lips and into his veins.
lacing your fingers with his, you brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head. you didn’t have to say anything for him to catch on, he immediately knew what you wanted and he would gladly give it to you. with his fingers massaging your scalp, you allowed yourself to relax under his touch, a small sigh slipping its way past your lips.
somewhere between yuji’s light touches and the painkillers taking effect, you found yourself nuzzling deeper into the cotton of his t-shirt, the smell of his detergent mixed with his natural scent making your eyelids heavy and lulling you in and out of consciousness.
“i got you,” he murmured, chin resting atop your head and arms pulling you in impossibly closer, his fingers never once daring to stop their caressing.
and though you were in pain and he hated that, a small, teeny tiny, little part of him was content enough with the fact that he got to fulfill some of his long anticipated boyfriend duties. even if not everything had played out the way he had originally imagined.
the train jerks forward the moment the doors slide shut, metal whining against rails as the evening rush surges inward.
normally, this part is easy.
megumi would grab one of the overhead straps without even thinking, fingers long and steady, and you’d tuck yourself into his space automatically, arms wrapped around his middle, chin pressed into his chest, chatting his ear off in little whispers so as to not disrupt the eerie quietness of the train. he’d keep you balanced. you’d keep him warm. and he'd get an extra-long hug out of it.
except last night ruined the rhythm.
it hadn’t even been a real fight. nothing explosive. no yelling. just a stupid disagreement that grew teeth because neither of you wanted to back down. you’d eaten dinner on opposite sides of the dorm common area, went to bed turned away from each other, limbs stiff, pride burning hotter than the blankets.
and now, standing shoulder to shoulder on the crowded train, neither of you moves first.
megumi reaches up for a strap.
you don’t step closer.
instead, you brace yourself against the pole near the door, jaw set, eyes forward. the train sways again, harder this time, and you wobble, just slightly, but you catch yourself.
you feel his attention shift instantly.
another lurch. closer. sharper.
your shoulder knocks into his chest.
his hand comes out of instinct, fingers closing around your arm before you even register losing balance.
you huff and pull away immediately, “i can do it myself.” you mutter, glaring at him like it’s his fault gravity exists. because at this point it might as well be
megumi’s mouth tightens. “couldn’t tell.”
he lets go.
that hurts more than you expect. because you wanted him to insist on holding onto you.
the train slows to a stop, doors sliding open with a hiss as a cluster of people shove their way out. they’re laughing, careless, not looking where they’re going. one shoulder slams into you, then another.
you stumble forwards, skidding on your feet. but before you can hit the floor, megumi’s there.
this time, you don’t have the chance to protest.
his grip is solid, arm braced around your waist, the other steadying your elbow. you cling for half a second longer than necessary, heart racing, embarrassment flushing hot up your neck.
the group doesn’t even stop.
one of them snickers.
megumi looks up.
his expression goes cold. dark eyes narrowed, jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscle jump.
“watch where you’re going,” he snaps.
the laughter dies immediately.
they don’t respond. they don’t apologise. they just hurry off the train as the doors close again. he can see them through the window cackling like it was the funniest thing ever.
megumi watches them go with tense shoulders, fury simmering just under the surface. he exhales through his nose once.
then he looks around the carriage, spots an empty seat, and guides you toward it with a hand between your shoulders.
“sit.”
you want to argue.
but don’t.
you sink into the seat with another irritated huff, folding in on yourself, arms crossed tight as you stare down at your hands. your fingers are still trembling, though you’re not sure if it’s from the stumble or the fight or the fact that he caught you anyway.
megumi doesn’t move to take a more comfortable spot.
instead he plants himself right in front of you, arm braced against the window behind your head, body angled protectively despite himself. like he’s daring the train to try something again.
you don’t look up. even if you want to because he probably looks way too good like this.
then you feel your bag shift.
you blink, confused, as he lifts it from your lap and unzips it without asking.
“h-hey—” you start.
he ignores you, rummaging once before pulling something out.
a protein bar.
he presses it into your hands.
you stare at it, then at him, “when did you—”
“you didn’t eat breakfast.” he says flatly.
your mouth opens. closes.
he’s right.
you’d spent too long standing in front of the mirror with your curling iron, replaying the argument in your head, muttering all the clever comebacks you didn’t think of last night. time slipped. you came out with perfectly bouncy curls but no time left to eat.
you scowl anyway, “shut up.”
you tear the wrapper open and take a bite, chewing more aggressively than necessary.
megumi looks away, eyes on the reflection in the window. “there’s yoghurt in there too.”
you pause mid-chew. your eyes shoot up to his, "so you think i eat too much." it's an accusation. not a question.
he sighs, exhausted at this point, pinching his nose bridge, “yeah.” he says sarcastically.
you almost laugh, because you missed annoying him like this. you swallow, throat tight. “…thanks.”
he doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, just for a second, you catch it; the smallest curve of a smile, adoring and fond, gone the moment you notice.
ଳ i. yuuji
tending to your training wounds
yuuji doesn’t look at you while you train.
neither do you. you're busy. punching.
the gym echoes with the dull, rhythmic thud of fists hitting leather. yours hit harder than necessary—sharp, angry strikes that rattle the chains holding the bag. every punch lands with something extra behind it, frustration bleeding through your knuckles, your shoulders, your breath.
yuuji notices.
of course he does.
he’s on the other side of the room, working another bag, movements usually loose and energetic now stiff and off-tempo. his punches are strong, but unfocused. like he’s holding back from putting too much thought into it. like if he does, he might walk over to you and say something stupid.
again.
and make it worse.
so he doesn’t.
neither of you say a word when training ends.
you peel your gloves off with a scowl, fingers already sore, skin red and tender. yuuji wipes sweat from his neck, sneaks a glance at your hands, then quickly looks away when you catch him.
the walk out of the gym is quiet.
too quiet.
normally he’d be yapping about how hungry he is, or how he definitely nailed that last combo, or asking if you wanna grab food after you've retreated to the showers. now there’s just the hum of the vending machines and the soft squeak of your shoes against the floor.
he stops suddenly.
you keep walking for half a step before realizing he’s not beside you anymore. your head snaps back, annoyed. “what.”
“uh... hold on.” he scratches the back of his head, already digging into his pocket.
you watch him punch in the code on the vending machine. coins clink, one drink drops. then another. then he crouches and pulls out a paper cup, filling it with ice from the dispenser nearby.
he hands you your favourite drink first without thinking, wedging his own between his side and his arm while he makes sure the lid of the ice cup is shut tight.
you stare at it. “what’s that for.”
he finally looks at you.
his eyes are soft and worried and a little sad around the edges.
“your hands,” he says quietly.
you scoff. “they’re fine.”
he steps closer anyway.
gently, he takes your wrists, thumbs barely brushing your skin like he’s afraid you’ll pull away, before pressing the cup carefully against your knuckles.
you hiss despite yourself. the skin's broken and raw from the friction of your knuckles and the inside of the gloves. of course, the gloves were supposed to prevent this from happening. but there wasn't really much they could do when you were punching so hard your humerus rattled inside you.
“see?” he murmurs in response to the small wince of pain on your face, “not fine.”
you want to yank your hands back. say something snippy. keep the wall up just a little longer.
but the way he’s holding you; carefully apologetic, like he’s trying to fix something without knowing how—makes your shoulders sag, a little with guilt and a lot with adoration. he's really cute like this.
you let in, allowing him to tend to your wound.
he presses the ice a little more firmly, eyes flicking between your face and your hands. “you looked really cool,” he says, trying to lighten your mood. “i thought that bag was gonna start crying.”
you snort before you can stop yourself.
he smiles a little at that. relieved.
“you’re not supposed to take it out on yourself,” he adds, quieter now.
you look away. “…i wasn’t.”
he doesn’t argue.
he just nods, like he knows better but won’t push. his grip stays steady, grounding. the cold numbs the sting in your knuckles, and with it, some of the tension curling tight in your chest.
“i hate fighting with you,” he admits suddenly.
you glance back at him.
his shoulders slump, like the words weigh something. “i never know what to do. i don’t wanna make it worse. but i also don’t wanna ignore you.” he laughs softly, awkward. “i’m bad at this.”
“yeah,” you mutter, “i know.”
he winces. then chuckles. “i deserve that.”
the silence settles again— but this time it’s different. softer. easier.
after a moment, he exhales, long and dramatic. “thanks for not turning me into the punching bag.”
you finally meet his eyes. they're hurt, but there's a hint of hope in them.
“…you’re lucky,” you say. “i considered it.”
he grins, bright and familiar. “i knew it.”
he keeps holding your hands until the ice melts down into the cup, until the wounds start to scab and stop aching so much.
and when he finally lets go, he stays close—like he’s making sure you don’t drift too far away again.
ଳ n. kento
making you sleep instead of doomscrolling
the room is dark and quiet, save for the low hum of the heater and the steady rhythm of nanami’s breathing beside you.
it’s been two hours since the fight.
not a dramatic one. no raised voices. just clipped sentences and carefully chosen words that still managed to bruise. enough to leave you lying stiffly on your side of the bed, back turned to him, arms tucked close to your chest like you might fold in on yourself if you don’t hold tight.
nanami is asleep.
at least, you think he is.
he lies on his back, glasses placed neatly on the bedside table, one arm resting where you usually curl into him. his face is calm. peaceful, strong chest rising and falling deeply. like nothing’s wrong. like he doesn’t care that you’re still wide awake, chest tight, eyes burning as you scroll mindlessly through your phone.
like he doesn't care that you're still sad. cold. lonely. wanting to be held and comforted.
the blue light stings. it hurts to blink.
you’re not even reading anything. just letting the screen fill the silence so you don’t have to think.
you’re halfway through another dumb cat video when the phone is suddenly lifted from your hands.
“hey!—” you protest, startled.
the screen goes black.
nanami places it on the bedside table with quiet finality, face still turned toward the ceiling.
before you can protest, his other hand comes up, broad palm covering your eyes, blocking out the dim glow of the room.
“sleep,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with drowsiness.
you freeze.
“…you were awake?”
“i am now.”
his arm slips around your waist, firm and unyielding, tugging you back against his chest where you belong
you squirm weakly, “i’m not tired.”
his hand stays over your eyes, thumb brushing once over your brow. grounding. warm, “you are.”
you huff, “you don’t get to decide that.”
“i do,” he replies simply. “it’s past midnight. you have an early morning.”
that almost makes you smile.
your shoulders sag despite yourself.
he shifts closer, breath warm against the back of your neck. his voice drops, softer now. “we can finish talking in the morning. when you’re rested.”
you swallow. “what if i’m still mad.”
“then you’ll be mad after eight hours of sleep.”
his logic is infuriating. as usual.
you’re quiet for a long moment, listening to his heartbeat, steady and reassuring. the hand over your eyes relaxes, fingers threading gently through your hair instead, slow and careful like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again.
“…i'm cold,” you murmur, barely audible and a little whiny.
he breathes out a small laugh, “come.”
you shift closer to him, and he lets you snuggle while he pulls the covers fully around you, tucking them snugly under your chin and back so no cool air can sneak under.
"do you want another blanket?" he offers, ready to get up and go down the hall to the linen cabinet at your call.
you shake your head, hand curling into the fabric of his shirt, "no. stay."
he smiles fondly, "i'm here."
you let out a shaky breath, the last of the tension bleeding out of you as exhaustion finally wins. your eyes close beneath his hand. your body melts back into his, fitting where it always does.
nanami presses a brief kiss to the crown of your head.
“sleep,” he repeats, quieter this time.
and this time, you do.
ଳ g. satoru
keeping you warm in the snow
the argument ends stupidly.
not with closure. not with an apology. just too much ego crashing into too much ego in the narrow hallway outside his dorm, words tripping over each other until you snap and turn on your heel.
“i don’t wanna talk to you right now.”
satoru blinks, offended, then smirks infuriatingly, “aww, no?”
you don’t dignify that with a response. turn on your heel before he can remind you that he's a man anymore.
you storm outside instead, the doors whooshing shut behind you, the cold winter morning air slapping you full in the face. only then do you realise—
shit.
your jacket.
you stop for half a second. consider going back. imagine his stupid grin, the way he’d tease you for forgetting it, the way he’d act like he won something.
not happening.
you keep walking.
the track is unusually empty, lights buzzing overhead, the red and white rubber ground cold even through your shoes and socks. you plop down on the sloped grass edge, hugging your knees to your chest. your breath fogs in front of you in quick little puffs.
it’s freezing. the breeze bites your cheeks rosy.
and you’re mad.
and annoyingly, you’re kind of… really sad, actually.
your shoulders start to shake before you can stop them. you sniff hard, scrubbing at your face with the heel of your hand, mortified at yourself for crying over something so dumb.
you don’t hear him approach.
but feel it.
warmth settles over your shoulders, heavy and familiar. fabric brushing your neck. sleeves being tugged over your arms.
you stiffen.
“go... away,” you mutter weakly, not really meaning it all the way.
too late.
he’s already kneeling behind you, methodical in the most satoru way possible. your uniform jacket goes on first. then your scarf, wrapped twice and tucked in snug like he’s done this a hundred times. mittens pulled onto your hands, thumbs squeezed for good measure. lastly, your beanie, tugged down over your ears.
he hums softly, pleased with himself. “there. crisis averted.”
you turn around, glaring up at him. “i didn’t ask.”
he gasps, hand flying to his chest. “wow. i'm just trying to make sure you don't turn into a popsicle.”
“you’re being annoying.”
he grins. “and you’re being cute.”
“satoru.”
he leans closer, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret. “you know you get this little wrinkle right here when you’re pouting?”
he reaches out and pokes your nose.
you flinch back instinctively, swatting at his hand, “don’t touch me!” the truth is you don't care about the way he's babying you. a stupid part of you actually likes it. you just don't want him to look close and notice your watery eyes.
he laughs, bright and shameless, then stills and softens when he really looks at you. his tilts his head.
“hey,” he says, nudging your knee with his own. “i didn’t mean to upset you.”
you look away, jaw tight. “you treat everything like it’s a joke.”
he sits beside you on the cold track without a second thought, long legs stretched out. “yeah,” he admits. “and sometimes i forget you don’t always wanna be the punchline.”
that shuts you up.
he bumps your shoulder lightly. “i’m sorry. i didn't mean to make you cry. i'll do better.”
you steal a glance at him. he’s not smiling now. not really. just looking at you, waiting for a response.
“…you’re still annoying,” you mumble.
he perks up instantly. “i’ll take that.”
you huff, trying to stay mad, but the warmth he wrapped you in and the way he stays makes it hard.
he nudges your shoulder again. you're shivering. teeth chattering quietly. “c’mon. let’s go inside before you freeze.”
you stand, brushing off your pants, still refusing to look at him. he reaches out automatically, fixing your scarf where it’s slipped, brushing small snowflakes from your hair, then cradles your face in his slender fingers and rubs the last of the tears from your eyes with his thumbs, pressing his lips to your hairline gently.
you turn your head away before he can see your smile, no longer upset, but still not wanting the ego-maniac to win.
ଳ r. sukuna
making you take your medicine
you’re sick.
not the cute kind. not the “stay in bed and be babied” kind. the ugly, miserable, aching, feverish kind where everything feels too loud and your bones hurt and your head won’t stop throbbing and you feel your skull rattle every time you cough into your arm like a poorly victorian child.
and sukuna will not stop hovering. it's sweet. you know it is. you're the only one he's ever this nice and caring to. and you appreciate it. he literally held your hair back while you threw up three separate times today. but you're also moody and you want someone, something to be mad at.
“you have to take it, babe.”
you glare at the small bottle of fever tablets in his hand like it personally insulted you. “i don’t want it.”
“it’s gonna help you.”
“it tastes disgusting.”
"it's a pill, you're not even gonna taste it." he pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw tight. “just take the damn medicine.”
“yes,” you mumble, already regretting it but too stubborn and miserable to take it back. “i can take care of myself.”
something hard flashes across his face.
“fine,” he says flatly, setting the medicine down with a little more force than necessary. “then i won’t worry about you anymore. i'll go home.”
and then he leaves.
the door clicks shut.
the silence after is worse.
half an hour passes. sukuna's left by now. or so you thought. he's actually sitting in the living room. he couldn't leave you, especially not in this state. he knows you probably feel like shit for saying that. it hit a nerve, so he'll let you stew in it for a little.
you roll onto your side, staring at the wall, throat tight. the fight replays in your head, every word sounding harsher now that your fever’s cooling off just enough to let guilt seep in.
you didn’t mean it.
you’re just sick. and cranky. and tired of feeling like a sweaty wad of snot under the covers.
another ten minutes pass.
you’re still staring at the same spot on the wall when the door opens again.
sukuna comes back in without a word, a mug in his hand. steam curls up from it, smelling faintly of honey and something herbal. he sets it on the bedside table, then nudges it toward you.
“drink.”
"you're still here..?" your eyes widen. you push yourself up, wince, head still heavy with congestion, and take it. “…i’m sorry,” you start quietly. “i didn’t mean—”
“shut up,” he says, not unkindly. “drink.”
you do.
the tea is warm. soothing. it goes down easy, easing the scratch in your throat. you finish it without thinking, not having realised how thirsty and dehydrated you were, then hand the empty mug back to him.
he looks at the empty bottom.
then at you.
then smirks. way too satisfied.
something clicks.
your eyes widen. “…kuna.”
“mhm.”
“…did you just drug me.”
he snorts, clearly proud of himself. “you’re welcome.”
you stare at him, betrayed. “i’m calling the police.”
he rolls his eyes, already pulling the blanket up around you and tucking it tight. “yeah, yeah. do it after your fever's gone.”
you grumble, sinking back into the pillows, "i actually felt bad."
"good." he says, smugly unbothered, putting the mug down on the bedside table and laying beside you.
"i hate you." you whisper softly, as he wraps an arm around you, patting your back soothingly as the medicine finally kicks in, getting you drowsy.
"why, 'cuz i'm controlling?" he mocks. you bury your face in his shoulder with an embarrassed noise, voice muffled as you whine at him to shut up, "alright, alright. go to sleep, stupid."
the last thing you see before drifting off is sukuna watching you, expression softer than he’d ever admit.
prettiest dividers by @anitalenia & @bhavihelps here and here !
i have to get up for school in like thirty minutes and havent slept yet... everyone gonna die today
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yuuji who is such a touchy drunk. big brown eyes all glossy with a dazed expression. his large hand splayed across the swell of your tit while his thumb and pointer finger absentmindedly rolls your pebbled nipple through the fabric of your shirt like it’s simply something to fidget with.
you slightly stiffen against him, his body keeps its position on being firmly pressed into your side, emitting warm heat. a soft shudder shakily exists your mouth while your head slowly tilts itself back on yuuji’s firm shoulder, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation.
you’re both completely flushed in the face—him worst than you with the fiery tips of his ears heavily contrast with his tanned skin. he’s actually smiling, too. the apple of his cheeks tinted in a red hue as he attempts to reinstate his train of thought without small giggles or slurred out compliments whispered in the shell of your ear.
he’s not even fully conscious of his actions. although he’s aware of just how good you feel against him like this: your tits softly smushed in his hand and your sweet scent wafts around and throughout his nose.
“hngh..yuuji..” you manage to get out in small huffs. your forehead is littered in sweat and you feel your resolve slip through the cracks, amost allowing yourself to consume the intoxication of his touch. he softly hums in acknowledgment. it’s gentle but gravelly.
“there’s people around..” you feebly warn with a small whimper, already feeling your panties dampen with slick. his half lidded eyes soon flick down low and his eyebrows knit together in genuine confusion.
“huh? i really don’t what ya mean, babe.” he shrugs off with an airy chuckle, warm breath fanning the side of your face. he idly continues his ministrations on your perky nipple whilst going back to the story he has been attempting to tell for the past couple of minutes.
and the thing is, he truly is so clueless to how every light tug, twist, flick and rub has your pussy throbbing for more. how your thighs desperately clench together for friction and how your stifled moans start to loosely flow melodically into the air.
pairing: bf!Yuji Itadori x f!reader
synopsis: you receive an alarming text message from your boyfriend saying he got a new haircut. but even after imploring, he refuses to show you a photo, and insists on you finding out once he comes back home. so you anxiously await his return...
cw: none, fluff, established relationship
wc: 940
Yuji masterlist
You were enjoying your evening in Yuji’s room. Your snacks were laid out on the bed, your hair was messy and you were wearing one of his shirts.
Laid out on your stomach with your feet kicked up, you watched a movie he’d recommended you some time ago. He loved raving about his dvd collection to you.
And although the sci-fi movie was a little weird, it wasn’t that bad. You were excited for him to return from his mission so you could give him your lengthy review of the movie.
That’s when your phone chimed. You reached for it, and tapped your code in. It was a message from Yuji. Your eyes immediately lit up, and you replied.
You let your phone turn off by itself, too stunned to do it manually. The movie continues playing in the background, long forgotten now.
You clear your throat and sit up properly on the bed, trying to rationalize.
So, his hair had caught on fire, which sounds horrifying by the way, but knowing Yuji he was probably fine. This eventually led him to cut his hair.
Okay. Yeah. That’s fine. He was probably due for a trim anyways, right? Besides, how short could it be now? Surely not that short.
You stood up with a sigh, making your way to the small bathroom and staring at your reflection in the mirror propped above the sink.
Snap out of it, it’s just hair. You loved your boyfriend regardless of what he looked like.
… But still, you were going to miss running your hands through his hair now that it was short.
Suddenly, you hear the doorknob turn, and the door carefully swings open.
“I’m back.” You hear his voice, and his footsteps, as he walks around looking for you.
You take a deep breath and brace yourself, determined not to let your face show any emotion you don’t want it to. You open the door of the bathroom and step out.
“Hey, sorry I was in the bathroom—”
He has his back to you at first, and your eyes fly to his head almost immediately. He still has his dark undercut, but the pink part of his hair is much shorter now. He turns to face you.
Usually he’d run to wrap his arms around you and spin you around as he laughed and let out multiple “I missed you”’s. But right now he was too nervous about facing you to do any of that.
He watched carefully as you slowly made your way to him.
And now that you’ve gotten a closer look at him? He honestly didn’t look half bad. No, forget that, he looked really good. Sure his hair was much shorter, it looked like a slightly overgrown buzzcut—but it looked good. You knew Yuji was a cute guy, but for him to be able to pull off short hair like this?
Your hands reach up to touch it, and you let out a small chuckle as your hands are met with a slightly prickly feeling, instead of the softness you’re used to. His gaze lowers and finds yours, as you watch his cheeks flush into a subtle pink.
“You didn’t… burn your scalp or anything right? You’re fine?” you ask, your hands sliding down to cup his jaw.
“Mm-mh.” he shakes his head wordlessly.
“Okay, that’s good.” you mutter in response.
He breaks the silence, his voice quiet. “So… is it bad?” he asks, looking at you expectantly.
You suddenly realize he was waiting for your approval, and you scramble to answer him. “No! It looks great.”
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’re just being nice, aren’t you?”
Rolling your eyes, you huff. “I mean it, Yuji. You really pull it off well.” you laugh, and your fingers find their way to the back of his scalp, instinctively scratching and caressing his nape.
He looks at you skeptically for a moment before sighing and looking away. “It’ll grow back anyway.”
You look up at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth without even realizing it. “... and if I don’t want it to?”
He looks back down at you, surprise painting his features. “Really?”
Another laugh escapes you and you nod. “Really. You look hot.” you shrug.
He brings up a hand to his chest and points at himself, with raised eyebrows.
You burst out laughing at his gesture. “Yes you, dumbass.”
“You call me hot one second, and then a dumbass the next.” he deadpans, his hand going back to your waist.
“Yeah well we’re talking about you Yuji, the two kind of go hand-in-hand.”
“Thanks… I think?”
The two of you laugh together again, before you speak up. “Okay go wash up, you reek of sweat.” you separate yourself from him. "And make it quick so I can give you my review of that movie you told me to watch."
His eyes light up. "You watched it?"
"I did... was I not supposed to?"
His hands find your waist again and he lifts you up in a tight hug. "You're the best!"
"Yuji, Put me down you're all sticky—"
He quickly lets go of you. "Oh, sorry, forgot." he chuckles.
"At this point I think I'm going to have to shower too." you sigh.
He slowly looks up at you with that look in his eyes. "You know, we could just—"
"No, pervert."
"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am." his shoulders straighten.
You watch him as he makes his way to the bathroom, your eyes glued to the top of his head.
Yeah. You could definitely get used to this new hairstyle of his.
