𝓽❀

you come back to hq after a long mission with your clothes absolutely destroyed, and zanka is not quite sure how to act when he sees so much of your skin for the first time—and not in private, but in front of everyone else! zanka x fem!reader

sometimes, missions go wrong, but you'd learn to push through them regardless! as a cleaner, it was your duty to tough it out. and while you were used to fighting trash beasts and getting a little roughed up by the end of each ordeal, today was a little out of the ordinary, because today's tumultuous walk back towards hq is spent with you having a minor fit of panic

"oh my god riyo, i swear i felt a breeze up my butt! are you sure you can't see it?!" you squeal, quickly turning around for her as she snorts, fingers reaching out to gently graze the bottom curve of your backside as you yelp

"just a little, if anything, it's like a cheeky pair of shorts," she says with a smirk, and you whine in defeat and embarrassment

"these used to be pants! i'm going to have to walk through the entire main entrance in front of everyone to get to my room." you huff, and she offers you a sympathetic smile before gently placing a hand on your shoulder

"i mean, i can see the underside of your breasts too, but as long as you don't jostle around too much, you'll be fine. trust me!" she says encouragingly with a grin, and your shoulders relax a bit as you sigh

"you're sure it's not that bad?"

"i mean... it's nothing like what you normally where. but hey! you don't look bad!" she teases, and you smack her arm with a giggle before you two finally step onto the familiar grounds of hq

zanka has been waiting for you since 1:32 PM exactly. you were supposed to be back by 2, but he wanted to make sure he was here early enough to greet you and sweep you back to his room. tamsy, enjin, rudo, follo, delmon, and a few other cleaners sat at the long table alongside him. while the others ate their lunch chattering noisily, zanka kept his eyes focused on the door.

his back was slightly hunched, a barely noticeable furrow between his brows when the clock hits 2:15 and you had yet to arrive. he bites the inside of his cheek, trying to school his expression into something neutral before enjin calls his name

"what's wrong, loverboy? is your girl late?" enjin snickers, and zanka huffs, hoping no one can hear the twinge of worry in his voice

"a bit. it's fine, i bet she and riyo took the long way back. you know how much those two love talking with each other." he grumbles, chin resting in the palm of his hand with the muscles of his back tense. he's so focused at glaring a hole into the wall minutes later that he doesn't notice the shift in atmosphere around him until he hears tamsy physically choke on his food beside him

zanka peers up, but tamsy's eyes are transfixed onto something else. he follows his line of gaze, and there you are—cleaner's uniform tattered beyond belief and showing so much skin that zanka's surprised he doesn't simply pass away on the spot. his mouth falls open, a chocked sound of utter shock and bafflement escaping his lips as you give him a nervous smile from across the room

"uhh—bad mission! i gotta walk through the main entrance to get to the rooms and change so..."

soft. that's the first word that comes to zanka's mind. soft legs, soft thighs, soft arms, soft tummy—he wants nothing more than to glide his fingers over the skin he hasn't seen before now standing right in front of him. while the two of you kissed and cuddled all the time, you hadn't gone further yet—and you didn't usually wear clothes so—so revealing.

it takes zanka a good five seconds to process your words, but once he does, he's snapping out of his daze

"you—you all better shut your eyes right now! don't you dare look at her!" he shrieks, voice high and cracked around the edges as he leaps from his chair and points an accusatory finger at everyone seated. they must not understand how serious zanka is, because after a moment of confusion passes, zanka's smacking a hand over follo's eyes for still looking at you

"ouch! dude—i was just about to—"

"rudo, you little shit—" zanka starts menacingly, and rudo looks mortified as he quickly pulls his gaze away from you and slaps his hands over his eyes himself. zanka peers around before his gaze lands on enjin

enjin doesn't think he's ever seen zanka's face this red before in his entire life, and the sight pulls such a visceral reaction from him that he doubles over and laughs hard enough to be gasping for air. zanka marches right past him, peering over once more to ensure no one else is looking before he's quickly covering your body with his own and speed walking you towards the exit

"oh, my savior!" you cheer. zanka swallows the lump in his throat, trying to ignore how nice the bare skin of your spine feels now that his hand was resting on it as the two of you rush towards the elevator. once you're both inside, zanka pulls away from you with a tired exhale, and you stare at him before a smile blooms on your face

"thank you, zanka." you giggle, and he peers up, eyes round and blinking slowly before they slowly peer down and assess your form. you don't feel uncomfortable in front of zanka, not even the least bit, so you make no move to cover up yourself anymore.

what you realize in that moment is this: the best part about zanka is that he was an absolute gentleman when it came down to you.

"are you cold?" zanka suddenly blurts, cheeks and ears tinged red as you shake your head no

"okay...okay... let's go to my room, it's closer. you can shower and change into something of mine." he states firmly just as the elevator doors slide open, and you don't waste a second as you sling your arms around his neck in a hug

your fingernails scratch gently at the base of his neck, and you hear his breath hitch when you place a soft kiss against his mouth—one that he positively melts into. zanka's hands hover around your waist hesitantly—the spot he normally holds when he kisses you now bare—before gently settling his hands down anyway and pulling you closer.

F1!SUKUNA X REPORTER!READER

SYNOPSIS - just when sukuna thinks it'll be another round of boring post race interviews, here you come practically calling him a loser on live national tv! wc 1.3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE - the poll winner as a bday gift from me :P ur girl's bday is tmr so i wanted to get this out ASAP thank you so much to everyone who voted :3 not proof read (i need a beta reader omg) enjoy!!

CREDITS - pictures from pinterest, sukuna fanart from @-to00fu, divider from @-cursed-carmine

taglist ... @khiulahaha @bleepybl00p @lifeofroblox21

even with the blinding, and rather unflattering, lighting and flashing cameras of the media pen, sukuna looked as cocky as ever. as a matter of fact, he looked like he thrived in the lime light.

a wave of reporters raised their hands and called for his attention but sukuna was drawn to you. the only one who wasn't hollering over others but there you were, front and center against the barricade. he struts over to your side, stopping just before the mic before he juts his chin in your direction as he spoke into the mic, "the pretty lady with the cute notepad in the front.'

you give him a bland smile that did not reach your eyes. “charming,” you say. “rather impressive drive today, from twelfth to p2. that overtake in lap 11 was impressive, but some are questioning whether it was truly necessary so early in the race."

"what can i say? my instincts told me to follow through, and it paid of," he shrugs.

"you nearly locked up and lost the rear," you challenge.

sukuna's eyes narrowed a fraction, unnoticed by others but not by you.

"that's racing," sukuna says, "if i don't take the gap, someone else will."

"so you believe it was worth dropping two seconds because your tires overheated? and of course, you ignored the recommended pit stop." your voice remained steady, your face seemed almost bored; as if you were lightly scolding a child for something so obvious. had it been anyone else, sukuna would've been annoyed and taken the fine just to cuss them out. but for some reason, he only grins at you in response.

"i still got podium though, now didn't i?"

you hum, as if in thought, "well, they do say second place is the first loser." reporters around you mutter in shock at your sharp words, the other drivers sweat dropped as they stared at sukuna to gauge his reaction, one of the drivers even scooting away from sukuna in a not-so-subtle way.

but instead of blowing up in anger, sukuna only laughs. the sound shocks everyone, it seemed so unnatural coming from him given the tense setting. he didn't seemed offended in the least, in fact, he seemed intrigued.

"you always this nice in your interviews?"

"only to the ones that ignore strat calls."

"i was right in my call."

"you were lucky."

the two of you keep your gaze on the other steady, never once breaking eye contact. sukuna's smirk was now permanently cemented on his face as he analyzed you. ever since he started racing, these interviews were always so bland to him. he enjoyed the fame it got him but that was about it. the questions were always the same and so were the reporters; just any other boring asshole asking the same damn questions. it felt like routine at this point. so it was only natural for him to be so interested in you, the first reporter to ever have the balls to call him the "first loser".

sukuna leans closer the mic as he offers you a question, "you saying im a bad driver?"

for the first time, you return a a coy look at him; almost as if you were silently saying your words not mine. "now, i never said that mr. sukuna."

the other reporters then took this as their chance to try and get his attention to ask their own questions. his team press officer comes up to him and ushers him to another section of the pen, trying to direct the attention away from the interaction the two of you just had on live tv in hopes of preventing a possible pr nightmare. even as he walked away, sukuna couldn't tear his eyes from you until you broke eye contact first and exited the pen, heading to interview another racer. the rest of the interviews were boring as always, but now even more so in comparison to the one he just had with you. he practically sped through the rest of the questions; offering short answers and even blatantly ignoring some reporters. his pr manager could chew him out for it later. for now, he was determined to find you.

by the time post race interviews were over, he was the first to slip away and evade his team in hopes of finding you. he eventually does find you and tries to appear as casual as possible as he watches you do your sign off in front of your camera man's rolling cam. by the time he reaches you, you signal for your camera man to cut it and he puts the camera down, almost shrinking at the sight of sukuna. you turn ever so slightly to look at him, barely even acknowledging him before telling your team to go ahead without you. leaving just you and sukuna.

"anything i can help you with?" you ask him, not angling your body to face him. and though you would never admit nor would you ever show it on your face, you were a little intimidated now that he was standing so close. and with his ridiculous height, he was practically leaning over you.

that snarky grin returns to his face like it was his nature. "y'know, most reporters try pretty damn hard not to insult me on live television."

"now when did i insult you?" you ask.

"i seem to remember you calling me 'the first loser'," sukuna repeats, even if he didn't seem the least bit insulted by your earlier jab.

"i don't believe i was calling you that directly," you justify. "merely referencing an old saying."

"eh semantics," sukuna shrugs. "besides, i'm not here to reprimand you for insulting me."

"then why do you seem like you're waiting for an apology?"

"i'm not, just.. interested," sukuna replies honestly. "not every day someone has the guts to say the stuff you did."

"would you have preferred i say it behind your back?" you offer, the corners of your lips pulling into a small smirk.

this pulls another chuckle from him as he steps even closer to you as he looks down at you with a calm expression-too calm. "you really don't care if the drivers like you, huh?"

"i don't get paid to make you like me."

"no, but wouldn't it make your job so much easier?"

"i wouldn't say that," you say. "you seem pretty intrigued by my methods so i'll take it as a job well done."

the grin on his face widens; this was refreshing to say the least. not only do you insult him, but the way you hold this banter with him was just so easy. perhaps he was still coming off the high from the race. that's what he'll blame it on should this go downhill from here.

"what do you say to a date then? to see how effective your methods really are. and ill show you mine," he suggests, his voice dropping into a low, sultry tone at the last word.

to no surprise, you don't back off. rather, you take a step forward and look up at him alluringly. "then i'm afraid ill have to decline. i don't go on dates with losers."

sukuna barks out a laugh, grinning proudly as he says, "is that so? well don't you worry your pretty little head. my next race is next weekend so clear your schedule for me, yeah?"

you pull away from and turn to walk away. but not before throwing a smile over your shoulder. "win first then we'll see, sukuna."

prequel: he realizes he wants to marry you

prequel: proposal??

You’re still mad at him.

It’s been three hours since it happened, and the fury has yet to subside. If anything, the silence in your shared apartment is making it worse, fanning the flames of your irritation until you feel like a walking, talking inferno. A very pregnant, very uncomfortable inferno.

It started simply enough. You were heading to the kitchen for your fourth glass of water in the last hour – this baby was apparently determined to turn your bladder into its own personal water park. That’s when you caught it: a low chuckle from the living room sofa.

You paused, one hand on your burgeoning belly, the other on the small of your back, trying to alleviate the ever-present ache. “What’s so funny?”

Sukuna’s laughter wasn’t the full-throated, arrogant sound that usually echoed through your home. No, this was a suppressed, wheezing thing, the kind of laugh that happens when you’re trying desperately not to, which only makes it a hundred times worse. He was buried in his phone, but his shoulders were shaking.

“Nothing,” he managed to get out, his voice strained.

You narrowed your eyes. “It doesn’t sound like nothing. What are you laughing at?”

‧₊˚ ┊𝐫ewind ﹒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - because you can never be satisfied with one replay ﹒

megumi’s thumb hovered over the remote, tapping it lightly in a rhythm against his thigh.

“meggsss, can you go back pleeeease? i need to see that at least one more time.” you sing, peeking at him through your lashes, your voice slipping into a playful lilt.

“again?”

he should've known better.

he did know better.

and yet here he is, barely scratching episode three, with twenty-two to go, watching you squint at a two-second shot of a bookshelf with a kind of scrutiny made for court examination.

your finger jabs at the screen. "look, that book wasn't published until 2006, megs. 2006. the movie takes place in 1998."

now you're too busy tracing the edge of the bookshelf on screen with your finger, mouthing the titles, and counting under your breath.

"seven," you mutter. "there's only seven. there's supposed to be nine."

he looks at the screen. there are definitely seven books.

"maybe two fell," he offers, testing the waters before the great plunge.

you turn to him so fast he almost flinches. "books don't just fall between shots, megs."

"it's a prop," he says, voice flat.

“yeah, but it's also lazy," you correct, turning to him with eyes so bright and indignant he almost laughs. "they had one job."

he sunk deeper into the couch, head tilting back until his throat was bared, eyes drifting shut, lashes brushing against his cheekbones.

his thumb stays frozen on the remote. the music swells 7 seconds into the scene and he doesn’t falter, counting from the four previous replays. he’s already counted the number of footsteps in that sound effect—three, a pause, then the soft whoosh of a door.

he’s got the timing down to the precise second the character turns, and the exact rustle of fabric in the audio mix.

he just listens to you hum in concentration, feeling the slight shift of your weight as you lean forward, squinting at the frozen frame.

he hears you inhale. his thumb twitches.

“okay, go.”

he presses play before the word “go” is even finished, the mechanical click of the button overlapping with your last vowel. because he was already pressing it, already waiting, and already counting down from the second your breath changed.

“what was the timestamp?”

"around.. seven minutes, i think? when they first showed the library. i need to count the bookshelves."

“why.”

"because in the third volume, the library had a west-facing window. on screen, that window’s facing east. i need to see if the camera angle was throwing me off or if they actually changed the room layout. it’s crucial, megs.”

one eye peeks open, finding you tucked against his side, breath warm against his shoulder, your pupils dilated with barely contained analysis energy.

you look ridiculous.

absolutely ridiculous.

yet he looks away before he blurts out something embarrassingly soft about how endearing you look right now.

a glance your way, a glance at the screen, then he presses rewind.

"thanks, you're such an angel," you exaggerate, throwing your arms around his torso in a quick, squeeze-and-release hug before leaning forward again, eyes locked on the screen as the scene approaches its mark.

"yet i'm enabling a monster.." he mutters in response.

not even 10 minutes later, you do the same thing.

the opening theme of the next scene hasn't even faded when you shift beside him, your knee brushing against his thigh. he feels the way you're coiling up like a spring with restless energy, ready to pounce onto another inconsistency.

“are you serious..” his voice monotone. but his thumb lays flat hovering over the remote, waiting.

“of course i’m serious! i need to see what was written on the paper. urgently.” you leaned forward, squinting at the blurry prop as megumi nudged the timeline back ten seconds.

the scene replayed, over and over. the character’s hand revealed a yellow sticky note with kanji scribbled in rushed, uneven strokes. the paper curls at the edges where it was folded, catching the light in a way that makes the ink hard to read.

your breath snags with frustration weaving in your chest, because why does it have to be so blurry?

“wait—there!” you jabbed a finger at the screen. “that’s sooo different from the books—in the books, it was the back of a receipt, not a note. why would they change that? what was wrong with a receipt? it did the same job!”

“so many questions, yet very few answers..” megumi murmured with a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“megs, not the time.” you huffed dramatically. “and also, that font is wrong. it's supposed to be serif.”

you scoff, a breathy laugh that's half-disgust, and shake your head slow. “who even directed this? where’s the authenticity?”

a small crease digs between your brows, turning to him with wide, earnest eyes, "megs. megs. this is a travesty. they’re playing with my time and energy.”

"travesty.. right.” he repeats, deadpan, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

thank you for reading, please like and reblog (๑>◡<๑)ྀིྀི.

© tivrkn , 2026.

back to jjk m.list…

‧₊˚ ┊𝐫ewind ﹒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - because you can never be satisfied with one replay ﹒

megumi’s thumb hovered over the remote, tapping it lightly in a rhythm against his thigh.

“meggsss, can you go back pleeeease? i need to see that at least one more time.” you sing, peeking at him through your lashes, your voice slipping into a playful lilt.

“again?”

he should've known better.

he did know better.

and yet here he is, barely scratching episode three, with twenty-two to go, watching you squint at a two-second shot of a bookshelf with a kind of scrutiny made for court examination.

your finger jabs at the screen. "look, that book wasn't published until 2006, megs. 2006. the movie takes place in 1998."

now you're too busy tracing the edge of the bookshelf on screen with your finger, mouthing the titles, and counting under your breath.

"seven," you mutter. "there's only seven. there's supposed to be nine."

he looks at the screen. there are definitely seven books.

"maybe two fell," he offers, testing the waters before the great plunge.

you turn to him so fast he almost flinches. "books don't just fall between shots, megs."

"it's a prop," he says, voice flat.

“yeah, but it's also lazy," you correct, turning to him with eyes so bright and indignant he almost laughs. "they had one job."

he sunk deeper into the couch, head tilting back until his throat was bared, eyes drifting shut, lashes brushing against his cheekbones.

his thumb stays frozen on the remote. the music swells 7 seconds into the scene and he doesn’t falter, counting from the four previous replays. he’s already counted the number of footsteps in that sound effect—three, a pause, then the soft whoosh of a door.

he’s got the timing down to the precise second the character turns, and the exact rustle of fabric in the audio mix.

he just listens to you hum in concentration, feeling the slight shift of your weight as you lean forward, squinting at the frozen frame.

he hears you inhale. his thumb twitches.

“okay, go.”

he presses play before the word “go” is even finished, the mechanical click of the button overlapping with your last vowel. because he was already pressing it, already waiting, and already counting down from the second your breath changed.

“what was the timestamp?”

"around.. seven minutes, i think? when they first showed the library. i need to count the bookshelves."

“why.”

"because in the third volume, the library had a west-facing window. on screen, that window’s facing east. i need to see if the camera angle was throwing me off or if they actually changed the room layout. it’s crucial, megs.”

one eye peeks open, finding you tucked against his side, breath warm against his shoulder, your pupils dilated with barely contained analysis energy.

you look ridiculous.

absolutely ridiculous.

yet he looks away before he blurts out something embarrassingly soft about how endearing you look right now.

a glance your way, a glance at the screen, then he presses rewind.

"thanks, you're such an angel," you exaggerate, throwing your arms around his torso in a quick, squeeze-and-release hug before leaning forward again, eyes locked on the screen as the scene approaches its mark.

"yet i'm enabling a monster.." he mutters in response.

not even 10 minutes later, you do the same thing.

the opening theme of the next scene hasn't even faded when you shift beside him, your knee brushing against his thigh. he feels the way you're coiling up like a spring with restless energy, ready to pounce onto another inconsistency.

“are you serious..” his voice monotone. but his thumb lays flat hovering over the remote, waiting.

“of course i’m serious! i need to see what was written on the paper. urgently.” you leaned forward, squinting at the blurry prop as megumi nudged the timeline back ten seconds.

the scene replayed, over and over. the character’s hand revealed a yellow sticky note with kanji scribbled in rushed, uneven strokes. the paper curls at the edges where it was folded, catching the light in a way that makes the ink hard to read.

your breath snags with frustration weaving in your chest, because why does it have to be so blurry?

“wait—there!” you jabbed a finger at the screen. “that’s sooo different from the books—in the books, it was the back of a receipt, not a note. why would they change that? what was wrong with a receipt? it did the same job!”

“so many questions, yet very few answers..” megumi murmured with a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“megs, not the time.” you huffed dramatically. “and also, that font is wrong. it's supposed to be serif.”

you scoff, a breathy laugh that's half-disgust, and shake your head slow. “who even directed this? where’s the authenticity?”

a small crease digs between your brows, turning to him with wide, earnest eyes, "megs. megs. this is a travesty. they’re playing with my time and energy.”

"travesty.. right.” he repeats, deadpan, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

thank you for reading, please like and reblog (๑>◡<๑)ྀིྀི.

© tivrkn , 2026.

back to jjk m.list…

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!”

“i haven't even said anything yet!”