jungwon’s body laid sprawled across the coffee table in front of him, an empty cup sat beside him, and his mind barely sober. the incoherent babbles pushing past his lips were something neither of his friends paid attention to, both jay and sunghoon being more focused on finding your contact name in jungwon’s phone.
you picked up after the first ring. “jungwon?” your voice came through, a hint of worry carried with it. “is everything okay?” you pressed further, unaware of the two who exchanged a short glance to one another at your inquiry.
“hello? this is sunghoon.” sunghoon clarified with an awkward pause. “don’t get mad at us.” jay interjected from beside, his voice attracting jungwon’s attention whose head jerked up in interest. sunghoon hushed him.
“what happened? where is jungwon?”
“jungwon is drunk.” sunghoon admitted. “we were playing a game and he kept losing—”
“he’s seriously terrible, please let him know.” jay interrupted once more. sunghoon nudged him away from the phone, opting to bring the device up to his ear instead. “jungwon is drunk. like, really drunk. and he keeps whining about missing you.” sunghoon sighed, twisting his head to take in the sight of his friend—his head resting on top of his crossed arms with his lips jutted out, his cheeks puffed pink and hair poking in different directions.
from where he stood, sunghoon could see the way his eyes blinked sluggishly in an attempt to keep himself awake.
"give him the phone." you said, sounding far more awake and alert than you were just moments before. sunghoon didn't need to be instructed twice as his feet were already moving in the direction of the coffee table. he shook the younger boy awake. "jungwon."
jungwon groaned and burried his head in the crook of his folded arms. “leave me alone” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“your girlfriend’s on the phone.”
the speed at which jungwon shot up was downright comical. his eyes went wide in disbelief, frozen like a deer caught in headlights as his gaze locked onto the phone in sunghoon’s hand. “my girlfriend?” he echoed, his voice suddenly clear and devoid of any trace of slurring. sunghoon wordlessly passed him the phone, turning to jay before dragging the two of them out the room.
“jungwon?”
“baby.” jungwon sighed out, his whole body melting at the simple sound of your voice reaching his ears through the phone. “i miss you.” jungwon thought out loud, a warm smile forming on his face, mirroring the exact feeling burning through his body.
your chuckle carried through the line, prompting jungwon to smiling further. “i told you not to drink more than three glasses, baby.” you lightly scolded him. the remark made him let out a breathy laugh, his heart swelling as he pictured your usual disapproving frown he grew to love.
“it’s because of jay and sunghoon.” he reasoned in a whine.
you sighed softly, though there was no hint of irritation in it—nothing that suggested his presence was unwelcome or that you didn’t care about how he was doing. “you’re okay right?” you asked him gently.
jungwon nodded instinctively, despite knowing you couldn’t see him. “i’m okay now that i’m talking to you.” he admitted. his gaze drifted to the ceiling, only for him to wince and mutter a curse at the harsh brightness casting down. “i wish you were here right now.”
“i’m this close to leaving the house and running straight to yours.” he mumbled.
“if you do that i’ll be really mad.”
“you’re never really mad at me anyways.”
“i’m mad at you now.” you challenged him.
“mhm.” jungwon hummed. “sure, baby.”
you giggled before continuing to speak through the phone with your smile remaining. “for someone who’s supposed to be drunk, you got a lot to say.”
jungwon took a moment to let your words process before responding. “hearing your voice sobered me up a little.” he confessed, his tone noticeably smaller. “i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all night.”
the unexpected confession rendered you momentarily speechless. and with the softness his voice carried, jungwon broke the silence once more. “i love you.”
“...suddenly?”
“it’s not sudden. i mean it—i love you,” jungwon insisted, emphasising every word. had he been there to witness, jungwon would’ve caught the shy smile spreading across your face, one you didn’t try to bite back in the confined space of your room.
“i love you too jungwon.” you returned.
“i love you more than you could ever love me.” jungwon one-upped you.
“that can’t be possible because i’ve loved you way before you’ve loved me.” you stated back.
“well i love you so much that i don’t need anyone else in my life.” jungwon declared.
the bold claim piqued your attention. “so you’d cut jay and sunghoon off if i asked?” you teased. part of you expected him to backtrack and admit he was just rambling whatever came to mind, while another part secretly hoped he’d stand by his words.
“i’d do anything for you.” jungwon replied, no hesitation found.
the tenderness in which he spoke—so sincere and personal—caught you completely off guard, even though a part of you had braced for him potentially sticking to his words. still, nothing you imagined compared to the impact of what he truly said, his words leaving you unable to respond back.
your lips ached from how hard you were biting them in attempts to withhold your grin. “you’re making me smile, jungwon. make sure you don’t drink anything else and have some water before you go to sleep, okay? i love you,” you reminded him. your heart was pounded unevenly at the thought of the boy on the other end of the call, who likely wouldn’t even remember half of what he’d said just a minute ago.
“okay, i will. just for you. i love you, i wish i was there right now to show you how much i love you but i will wait until i’m not out of my mind. i can’t wait to hug you and kiss you and just see you.” jungwon continued to ramble, his words never ending as new ideas formed the longer he thought of you.
“that sounds like a promise.” you laughed. “goodnight jungwon.”
a/n: everyone lowkenuinely wanted jaeyun so here we are...choose your own adventure 😛 jake route coming next!
my perm taglist is full, so i have made a secondary one! if you'd like to be in my perm taglist, please visit my secondary taglist post here. it's becoming difficult to keep track of everyones comments and i dont want to miss anyone so if you could leave a comment on that post specifically that would be greatly appreciated!!
that's all for now! enjoy :)
part one ⟡ part two ⟡ part three (jaeyun route) ⟡ part three (jake route)
content: smau ⟡ figureskater!sunghoon x figureskater!reader ⟡ bestfriend!jake ⟡ slightly suggestive humour at the end
a/n: to all my lovely fellow poc: i try my very best to use photos that don't include skintone for the reader (because ik how it feels reading something and the "reader" looks nothing like you), but i fear for this post i had to cave cause i couldn't find the type of picture i was looking for without a skintone in the photo. sorry in advance :(
part one ⟡ part two ⟡ part three
a/n: hope you enjoyed this series <3 if you're interested in being added to my taglist, i've now created a dedicated post! click here to check it out, and comment to be added!
@ nishimmortal ⟡ all rights reserved.
content: smau ⟡ tattooartist!riki x reader ⟡ profanity ⟡ suggestive ⟡ mature (minors dni) ⟡ riki lowk a freak
a/n: that's a wrap on aftercare yippee! onto the next series...
go follow my insta @ nishimmortal ! i post teasers and polls for future posts on there so check it out :)
to be added to my taglist, please visit my taglist post!
tags.: established relationship, f!reader, periods & period care, satoru being the universe’s best boyfriend :3
“no.”
“but why,” satoru whined, dragging his feet while following you in the kitchen.
“you know you can’t handle the heat,” you roll your eyes as you cut open a pack of dino nuggets.
he gasps, offended, “that’s not true!”
you just side-eye him in response, laying four dino pieces on a baking sheet.
“why am i being punished?” he buries his face in the back of your neck. “god forbid a man wants to shower with the love of his life.”
you shiver lightly, feeling his breath on the nape of your neck but you refuse to relent.
“toru, i just need one scalding hot shower right now,” you open the oven and throw in the nuggets, satoru still completely velcroed to your back. “you literally start squealing when i put the shower to my preferred temperature.”
“well, you shower like you want your skin to melt off of you.” his hands dropped inside the waistband of your pajamas, gently massaging your womb.
you instantly melt against him, feeling your angry cramps ease up as he expertly applies the gentlest of pressure making you relax and hum appreciatively.
“let me shower with you.” he murmurs against your neck.
five minutes later, you had the shower on, letting the water get at its hottest temperature. satoru and you undressed in surprising companionable silence.
maybe satoru was already aware of how tired and in pain you were, because today was your first day of your period and you usually experienced amplification in pain as the day goes on.
you step under the shower, hissing slightly as you welcomed the burn. immediately your muscles relaxed and you feel the dull ache dissipate throughout your body.
satoru watched from a safe point away from the downpour, looking at you with a myriad of emotions and the most prominent of them being gratitude.
satoru gojo was a man who never took anything for granted. being the strongest came with a glacier of burdens that he couldn’t share with anyone else in the world. and often times, it made him feel horribly lonely.
you were the light in his life, his anchor that held him to ground. you were the sigh of relief after an impossible day. you were his home.
he turned on his infinity and finally stepped in behind you.
you didn’t turn as you felt him behind you, the space around satoru creating a pressure creating a sort of non-presence due to his infinity. he cradled you against his body gently.
you lay limp in his arms, your skin getting redder by the second due to both the hotness and pressure of the shower. satoru massaged you all over with experienced hands.
this quiet, gentle love wasn’t what would best describe the nature of your relationship. both of you were freaks, him bouncing off the walls and you keeping up with his frequency usually.
but years of being together has taught you the language of each other. you can read him like an open book with ease, as did he.
there was nothing sensual in the air as satoru peppered non-kisses on your neck, not quite able to touch his lips to your neck because he was too much of a pussy to stand beneath your hellfire ass shower without his infinity.
he massaged his way down your stomach, giving extra attention to where your womb was before reaching between your legs to massage your mons pubis.
he’s done this for you every time you get your periods. he’d say he could read your body.
you held onto his arm as you started to drift away, leaning deeper into his body letting him hold you up.
after a good ten minutes, he wouldn’t let you be under there for longer saying something about third degree burns or whatever.
he handed you a towel and busied himself in sticking a pad on your granny panties while you wrapped your hair and put a robe on.
you got dressed while he helped you then laid you down on the couch with your back resting on an armrest and then quickly rushed off to rinse himself.
meanwhile, you closed your eyes and drifted off. you didn’t wake up until you heard the hush of a blow dryer and the towel on your head coming off.
he gently started drying your hair while you kept your lids shut. it was a peaceful end to your day.
you dimly registered the oven going off. he must’ve started heating up the dino nuggets before going to shower.
once your hair was dry, he left the room and came back with a plate of hot nuggets, handpicked by yours truly & his own nutritionally appropriate dinner.
“are you sure this is all you want for dinner?” he asked, squinting his eyes at you.
“I barely even want that,” you admitted. “I have no appetite.”
“okay, okay,” he slid on the couch, pulling your legs on his lap and handing you your plate.
you took it wordlessly, gnawing at the edges like a picky toddler while he wolfed his food down. you really were not hungry yet, but you knew at 3-4 am you’d get a huge wave of cravings so you weren’t worried and neither was he.
soon, he was clearing off your plates and cleaning up before he picked you up from the couch and gave you a sweet kiss on your lips.
he strode towards the bedroom and proceeded to pull a nightgown over your head as you took your robe off.
finally fed, dry and warm, satoru pulled you both under the weighted blanket letting you throw your leg over his hips as his fingers pressed on your lower back, alleviating an ache you hadn’t even acknowledged.
his lips found your forehead as you finally gave in to the heaviness of your eyes. at last, you murmured,
“thank you.”
the last thing you felt was his smile against your skin.
veryyyyy self indulgent. get you a gojo satoru for your period days NOW!
your finger freezes mid-scroll as you wrench your eyes away from the catalogue of cute clothes you were browsing, eyebrows coming together in a confused scowl as you look down at your boyfriend.
satoru was holding his head up from your lap, where he was previously buried in.
he had the same sparkle in his eyes as he often does — the empty-headed, vapid stare that let you know all his braincells were on vacation.
"huh?" you sounded like a minecraft villager, not quite registering his request. because like, touch each other's what?
"eyeballs," he flipped so he was on his stomach now, crawling up so he was crowding your personal space. "make our eyeballs touch each other."
"let's see eye-to-eye," his lips quirked up just slightly, mentally applauding himself for being hilarious.
he was barely hanging onto the grin he wanted to let out for being so funny, but waiting for you to laugh first.
you stare at him, deadpanned.
he wiggles in your lap, trying to crawl up into you completely.
“no."
immediately, his jaw drops, eyebrows flying up and disappearing behind his snowy bangs, "WHAT?!"
you wince at his volume, "inside voice, satoru."
"what?!" he whispers - loudly, but you appreciate the effort. he's pushing himself off the mattress, off your lap, scrambling to sit up to address the gravity of your rejection.
"let's not touch each other's eyeballs," you side eye him before unlocking your phone and resuming your online window-shopping again.
and the drama queen he is, his jaw drops again, more exaggerated, letting out a huff of pure indiginance. "so you hate me?!"
you side eye him again, turning slightly so you could lay on your side.
there’s exactly one beat of silence before satoru jumps on you. all 6 foot 3 something, 200 pounds of unserious goofball of a man jumps on you.
he engulfs your body from all directions, completely covering every inch of you with him. his arms wrap around you, squeezing so hard your phone slips out of your grasp and rolls somewhere under your bodies.
“SATORU–” your yell comes out as a gasp as the breath is knocked out of your lungs.
you’re laughing, absolutely gobsmacked at his audacity.
he squeezes harder, his legs caging you in. he had to be looking ridiculous right now.
“tell me you love me,” he tries to sound stern, but he’s smiling despite himself, unable to help himself when he can see you laughing and thrashing beneath him.
“oh my gofmmf-" you're gasping for breath, laughing as satoru's fingers find your waist, tickling a little. you push at his head, wriggling under him like a worm as cry-laugh. "toruuu-"
"tell me you love mee," he whines, grinning ear to ear as he lifts himself up, giving you a moment of respite.
you swat his arm, but you're beaming up at him as you, "i love you 'toru."
and he knows you do, he needs you to tell him you love him at least fifteen times a day - minimum, or else he throws a tantrum just like this one. but god, the warmth that spreads through his body everytime he hears those words.
he dives back on you, peppering every inch of your face with kisses. the room is filled with the sounds of his wet & exaggerated mwah! mwah! mwah! and your giggles as you push him away, just for show.
"so can we do it?" he asks again, pulling himself up so he can see your face. your smile is soft and tender and just for him.
"why the fuck-"
"because it's the only part of me which hasn't touched you," he pouts, looking genuinely upset.
"i guess, bro," you giggle, rolling your eyes. you knew you'd give in eventually.
you don't bother reminding him that he hasn't touched most of your internal organs because you did not want to deal with his crashout and then the solutions about it.
and that's how satoru got you in his lap, closing his hands on the plush of your thighs and pulling you as near as possible.
"baby, hold your eyelid open," you're the one commanding him now, despite still thinking it's the dumbest idea he's had since convincing you to try coffee with melted cheese in it.
satoru pinches his eyelids before pulling them apart, revealing the globular organ to you. his freaky-deaky blue eyes stare at you, unblinkingly, as you close the distance, your own eye pulled wide open.
after a minute of silent giggles & struggle, you finally manage to make contact with his eyeball.
you pull back, laughing at the absurdity of what you both just did.
satoru has a dopey, content smile on his face as he watches you cradle your eye.
"i love you."
———
coffee w melted cheese is actually goated fight me
taglist that im editing on 8hrs later cuz i forgot i made a permanent one: @bunninio @ratskillrats @cherrys-wrld @peachygelic @tojisgdgirl
ever since you and him started dating, his days have become so.. normal. in a good way. a really good way.
the problem is, he hasn’t had much of ‘normal’ in his life, ever.
but then he met you and he knows you’d probably plow his back if he ever called you normal, but that’s what you were and it was just about the best thing in the world.
he picks you up from your classes, stops at the grocery store to follow you around as you get stuff you need to stock your dorm room.
“crunchy or smooth?” you’re not looking at him but at the options on the shelves.
“smooth,” he replies, his hand on the cart that he’s in-charge of pushing around.
“wrong. crunchy is the only right answer,” it’s not, but you liked disagreeing with satoru.
he pouts, “you said that about smooth last time.”
“did i?” you hum, already moving on, satoru trailing behind you.
he doesn’t miss the way you pick up his favourites to keep in your tiny dorm pantry, things that he always prefers having over others.
his chin is on your shoulder as you contemplate between the flavour of instant noodles you want for the week. he chimes in his opinions every now and then, and you always acknowledge and reply.
in your room, you ask him if he wants to stay the night.
"yes," he replies, plopping down on your bed, "obviously."
"'kay," you rummage through the stuff you bought and pull out the takeout boxes.
"what're we doing?" satoru gets off the bed and starts to put away the groceries while you're busy.
"i have a presentation tomorrow," you open the box of noodles and settle it on your bed before opening your laptop. "you find something to do while i practise."
and that's how satoru picked up the book you'd recommended him, sitting beside you on your bed as you go over your notes.
occasionally, you take a bite of your takeout while you work and notice satoru's share left untouched on the table still.
you turn your head to the side, "you're not eating?"
he doesn't lift his eyes off the book, "'m comfy, don't wanna move."
"but you're hungry?" you press.
"i always am," he wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally looking at you.
you roll your eyes, of course. wordlessly, you pick up the noodles, gathering them in your chopsticks and bring it up to his lips.
"thank you," he says while chewing, attention back on the book.
"don't talk with your mouth full," you chided before taking a bite yourself.
he thought that would be the end of it.
but after a few minutes you take a bite and start twirling the noodles around your chopsticks again, as compact as possible.
and then you silently raise your hand towards his mouth again, grabbing satoru’s attention away from the book. again, he wordlessly leaned forward and took the offering.
all while your eyes never leaving your laptop, skimming over your notes.
confused, he thinks maybe that’s the end of you passing down food to him and refocuses his attention on reading.
but then there's your chopsticks in front of his lips and he eats it, of course, but frowns, "do you not like the food?"
you glance at him sideways, still hunched over towards your laptop, "huh?"
"the food," he juts his chin at the box in your hand, "is it not to your liking?" already mentally taking notes to avoid the restaurant, because really, why else would you be feeding him so much of it?
your eyebrows furrow as you look at the noodles in your hand, "no, these are delicious. why?"
"then why're you feeding it to me? i thought it was because you didn't like this," satoru is genuinely confused, being unable to imagine any other reason behind your actions.
you blink, "toru..."
you turn towards him, "you said you were hungry, and i didn't want to move either," your explanation is easy, as if the obvious answer was to just share your food.
and it was, it was not a big deal at all to you. wanting to keep your boyfriend fed but not wanting to get up. this was the ideal solution.
"if i'm still hungry, i'll just have some of yours later," you stick the chopsticks in the box and boop his nose when he remains silent.
your eye darts to your dimming laptop screen, fingers skimming on the touchpad so your device doesn’t enter sleep mode and when you look back at your boyfriend, his eyes are misty.
“wh-” your eyes widen slightly in alarm, “toru, are you crying?”
“you’re so nice to me,” he lets out a dramatic wail to hide the fact that he’s actually emotional and sappy right now, jumping up from his position to throw his arms around you and engulf you in a massive hug.
“oomph,” your grunt as you swiftly hold up the food in the air, protecting it from satoru’s sudden burst of affection.
he sniffles a bit, his hand reaching over to pluck the takeout box out of your hand and onto the bedside table, before putting his full weight onto you as he pushed you onto the bed.
“i will eat you up,” satoru is pouting, looking down at you, tears still shining in his eyes.
“why’re you crying?” your voice is soft as you wriggle your hand out of under him, wiping away the moisture.
“i’m not,” he sniffles again right as a tear falls down his eye and onto your cheek.
“why are we lying?” you snort as he leans down and licks it up in a flash. “hey!”
he ignores your surprise at his dog like behaviour, pressing his weight onto you more, “i’m neither lying nor crying.”
“okay, poet,” your eyes are soft and understanding despite your teasing tone. your fingers still swipe the tears collecting at his waterline.
he suddenly burrows his face on your neck, giving out his arms from around you so that he was fully laying on top of you.
“toru, that tickles.” you giggle as you felt satoru’s breath on your neck.
“HELP,” you half screamed, half laughed as you felt satoru deliberately breath harder into your neck. your arms feebly pushed against him as you tried to wiggle out from underneath him, giggling harder as you felt him laugh against you.
after a moment of the weird breath-tickle torture, satoru lifts himself off as you take in big gulps of breaths.
he slips in beside you, wrapping his arms around your frame. you meet his eyes, face flushed from the exertion of laughing so hard while being crushed.
his heart skips a beat as he takes you in. you are the most beautiful thing in the world, with eyes so full of shine and warmth, hair disheveled on your pillow, breaths mingling with his, lips parted into a tender smile that satoru wanted to receive for the rest of his life.
“I love you,” he blurts out, “i’ve never been so grateful for anything in my life as much as i am for you.”
you still in his arms, eyes searching his face to reassure yourself that he was okay, but you say nothing.
satoru squeezes your waist lightly as he finds the words to continue, “everytime i think of you, my heart fills with so much love it threatens to burst out.”
your lips twitch and he catches it, groaning as he realises how that sounded. you let out a giggle despite your attempts at holding it in and he loses it with you, laughing as he pulls you closer.
“I was trying to pour my heart out!” he laughs, burrowing his face back into your neck.
“sorry, ‘toru” his breath tickles you again, and you giggle harder, pushing at his head weakly, “i-it threatens to burst out! bahaha—”
satoru whines, his face going red despite the wide smile splitting across his face. he nips at your neck as you squirm, still giggling at the unfunniest shit ever.
he decides to get his revenge, his hands going under your top and onto your skin, smirking when you shriek while laughing, crawling away from his ice cold fingers.
———
period care with satoru | “let’s touch each other’s eyeballs.”
DIARIES starting your spring semester, you were not expecting another new anonymous school confession page, or the boy that came with it ⋆˚࿔
⤷ LEE HEESEUNG ── ⌗ childhood bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ˎˊ˗ where a dm about your childhood best friend is the catalyst for a confession long overdue.
y/n just wants to finish her pokémon card collection. Jake just wants quick money... even if it means scamming someone on twitter. what starts as a failed scam after she exposes him in seconds turns into late-night dms, constant teasing, and something neither of them expected.
warnings: attempted scam (not taken seriously), lots of cursing, 2am arguments over pokémon cards, Jake being a little embarrassing, zero communication skills, kys joke
song rec: love for you - loveli lori
the airport was louder than she expected.
people rushing everywhere, luggage wheels scraping against the floor, voices echoing through the terminal.
y/n adjusted the strap of her bag, looking down at her phone again.
no new message.
of course he wasn’t here.
she didn’t even know why she expected him to be.
jake : where are u
y/n : near arrivals
jake : got it
y/n : you’re really annoying i think i’m lost
jake : look up then
slowly, she lifts her head.
and there he is.
leaning against the railing with his hands in his pockets like he hadn’t just nearly stopped her heart.
jake.
real.
not a profile picture.
not a late-night text.
not typing bubbles on a screen.
for a second, neither of them moved.
jake looked exactly how she imagined.
which somehow made it worse.
because now she had to deal with the fact that he was actually real.
and smiling, a nervous smile, but still.
y/n : u liar !
jake looks down at his phone, then back at her.
jake : surprise..
y/n laughed before she could stop herself.
jake pushed himself off the railing and walked toward her.
until he was standing right in front of her.
“hi,” he said.
y/n blinked. “you’re taller than I thought.”
jake stared at her for a second before laughing softly.
“that’s the first thing you say to me?”
“you said look up,” she defended.
“that’s crazy.”
“you’re still ugly by the way.”
“there she is.”
part 8 part 9
a/n: hey it’s the end! i don’t know if i like tell me what you think in the comments:)
it’s 2:30 AM. you’re dead to the world until your phone starts buzzing violently on your nightstand, vibrating so hard it’s practically dancing off the edge.
you crawl out from under the blankets, blinking blearily at the harsh screen light. there are 17 unread messages from satoru (do not answer). they start with incoherent memes, transition into a blurred picture of a stray cat he saw that “looked like you,” and end with a string of keyboard smashes.
the last text reads:
satoru (do not answer): i know ur asleep but i found this cool vending machine that dispenses little juice boxes and i bought 10 for u because they have little bears on them. do u think bears are cute? i think u’re cute. wake up i miss u.
before you can even type out a reply telling him to go to sleep, there’s a soft, rhythmic tapping on your glass.
you slide the window open, and satoru is literally floating outside your second-story room, gravity completely optional to him. he’s holding a crinkling plastic bag full of bear-themed juice boxes.
he grins, rubbing the back of his neck, looking incredibly endearing and slightly ridiculous in the moonlight. “hey,” he says softly, the night wind blowing his white hair into his eyes. “you’re awake. cool. can i come in? i brought juice.”
꒰ 𓈒 ׁ ︎ ︎ ✿ GOOD @ GOODBYES ! ㅅ `͈ 𓏼 )ა
first kiss 𝑤. ͏͏ sukuna ac. su2kuna ಎ
⎯⎯ ✉️ awky ⨍ reader 2.2k
the only shocking thing about ryomen sukuna was that he was a surprisingly good boyfriend. like, embarrassingly good to you.
he was still the occasional dickhead, obviously. but at least he nice about it. he always went at your pace, never pushed when you got shy or overwhelmed, never made you feel stupid for needing reassurance. hell, he even showed up with a bouquet of lilies for your first “official” date with him.
and the date itself wasn’t anything extravagant either. no fancy rooftop reservation, no over the top attempt to sweep you off your feet. just a quiet little restaurant tucked between buildings, warm lighting spilling across wooden tables while soft music played somewhere overhead.
simple. intimate. perfect for you.
a secluded booth in the corner, sukuna sitting across from you with an unfairly soft look in his eyes whenever you got shy and toyed with your food.
and you were doing fairly well. right up until the date ended that is.
because now here you were, heart hammering violently against your ribs, butterflies wrecking your stomach as you hurried, nearly ran, toward your apartment door, leaving behind one very confused sukuna standing a few steps away.
which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the smoothest way to end a date with your boyfriend.
“oi.”
you froze with your hand on your purse, about to reach for your keys, head snapping up at his voice as he made his way toward you, his hands buried deep in his pockets.
you turned your head slowly, eyes trailing up his tall frame, though looking at him only made things worse; his pink, coral strands faintly glowing under the streetlight, tan skin catching the light, black markings accentuating the sharpness of his features.
yeah. you didn’t stand a chance.
“. . . what?”
he scoffed. “what?” he mimicked under his breath, head tilting slightly, eyes sharp and fixed on you. “you forgetting something?”
your brain only buffered, eyes darting between his face and everything else: left, right, anywhere but him. “no..?” — humming under your breath as you dug through your purse.
lip gloss.
receipt.
wires.
a sonny angel, for some reason . . ?
everything but your keys.
normally, you weren’t this awkward. you just weren’t used to this. dates with people you actually found attractive. emotionally. intellectually. physically. romantically. sexually—
“you regret comin’ out with me?”
oh . . .
for a second you almost forgot he was there. well not really. sure, you tuned him out but you could definitely feel him. you could never really ignore ryomen sukuna; the sound of his breathing, the shift of his weight, his presence pressing against your senses, it was all there.
“what?” you blurted, finally looking at him in the eye.
sukuna leaned against the wall beside your door, pink hair shifting against his forehead, his expression unreadable, save for the faint amusement in his eyes.
“you heard me.”
your brows knitted together, mouth opening, then closing, before finally speaking: “no…”, your voice coming out a soft whisper.
his slitted eyebrow only cocked up at you, a faint laugh escaping his throat. “no?” the single word rolled off his tongue slowly, thick with amusement as he watched you, heat crawling higher up your neck under his stare, your movements growing clumsier the longer he looked at you.
“you’ve been diggin’ through that bag for, what, five minutes now. plus you nearly jumped outta a moving vehicle.” he continued lazily, pushing himself off the wall beside your door. “it makes a man wonder.”
“i’m not doing anything,” you said, quieter now, finally meeting his eyes for half a second before looking away again. “you’re the one who keeps staring me down.”
“mm,” he hummed, “so, lookin’ at you’s the issue.” his eyes flickering over your face once more, slow and unhurried. “that right?”
well, yes, that was part of the problem. but it wasn’t thee problem. because the actual problem was much worse. the actual problem was that you liked sukuna. like. like-liked. and he liked you too.
“well, no! i just—” what an insufferable man. “i really liked going out with you,” voice going a mile a minute before taking a deep breath, lacing your fingers together in front of you, fidgeting under his gaze. “i loved it.. actually.. i’m not trying to run from you or anything.”
“just nervous.”
“nervous?” he repeats after you, the word foreign on his tongue, “that’s what we’re callin’ it? you’re just embarrassed ‘cause you’ve got it bad for your boyfriend.”
your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, heat flooding your face all at once. “what?! no! don’t put words in my mouth.” you blurt, your hand flying up to shove his chest with a dull thud.
sukuna only lets out a low laugh before his hand comes up quickly to close around your wrist mid motion; his grip gentle but firm, holding you there as his other hand stays buried in his pocket. barely trying.
“so… you gonna say bye properly now?”
you gulp, your hand relaxing in his soft grip. “well… how do you want me to say bye?”
sukuna doesn’t answer, instead, he gently lowers your hand between you, scarlet eyes locking onto your softer, pliant eyes.
“your call.”
and the space between you two seems to freeze, soft silence of the night stretching between the two of you. easy on his end, unbearable on yours.
“w—well…” your eyes flick between his for a second before betraying you entirely, dipping down to his lips without meaning to. “i—” you huff. your throat feels dry, yet it feels unreasonable. sukuna wouldn’t judge you, you hope.
“i wanna kiss you… goodbye...”
“platonically,” you added after a moment.
. . .
his brows lifted slowly.
“you wanna kiss me. platonically?”
“um.” your voice came out smaller than intended. “yes.”
“yeah? and i’m sure those pretty little eyes of yours are lookin’ at me real platonically too.”
“that too.”
silence.
then sukuna hummed low in his throat, all amusement, already taking a step back.
“ah. got it.” he turned slightly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. “well, in that case— have a nice night.”
your eyes widened immediately. “wait—”
he kept walking.
not far. just enough to be annoying.
“sukunaaa,” you whined, hurrying after him before your fingers caught around his forearm, dragging him back to your doorstep. “not like that.”
a soft huff escapes him, his mouth quirking upwards, canines softly refracting the dim light — not quite a smile, but rather satisfaction. “hm?” he glanced down at your hand on his arm. “so now it’s not like that?”
your grip tightens for a second before you realize it and quickly loosen your hand, heat rushing straight to your face. “i—no, i mean—just—don’t pretend you don’t know what i mean…”
his gaze flicks over your face for a second, slow and unreadable, before he scoffs “you’re the one makin’ it complicated.”
“shut up,” you mutter instantly, but there’s no real bite to it, just embarrassment as you finally tug him a little closer.
his hand comes up, settling near your jaw, thumb resting against your warm cheek. your fingers catch lightly at the front of his shirt as you rise onto your toes.
before you could overthink, your lips meet his.
it’s quick. chaste. shy even.
his eyes flutter shut a moment after, his free hand coming out of his pocket to steady you by the waist, warm and heavy, yet restrained, seeping through your clothes.
he doesn’t kiss you back immediately, letting you mold against him. he tilted his head, lips pressing gently against yours; warm, and embarrassingly sweet.
you pull off his lips slowly, a hesitant look in your eyes, your breath catching lightly as you settle back down flat on your feet, hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt.
your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could hear it. did he like it? did he think you were a bad kisser? to be fair, you didn’t kiss many people. or often. but what if—
“hell,” he mutters, like he didn’t expect that, “you even kiss cute. kinda sweet.”
you pant, “what does that even mean?”
his gaze flicks back to your mouth and the slight furrow of your eyebrows.
the way your fingers still cling lightly to his shirt, the shy warmth clinging to your skin, even that stupid little clip tucked into your hair.
a quiet exhale leaves him through his nose, almost a laugh.
he lets out a soft laugh, leaning down slightly to your height. “i’m annoying?”
you only nod, biting down on the plush of your lip before looking away again, suddenly very interested in anything but him.
except before you could give an actual rebuttal, his lips meet yours deeper this time, no longer testing the waters. still gentle, but an unspoken certainty lingering in the way he kissed you. his mouth warm against yours, moving slow and unhurried, giving you all the time in the world to keep up, hell, even backout if you wanted to, the space between you disappearing.
his hand shifts from your waist up to your jaw, cradling your face and simply holding you in place for the moment. his other arm staying firm at your side, keeping you close without pulling too hard, steadying your wobbly steps against him.
you swallow down a gasp before your eyes slip shut, your nose bumping lightly against his, the angle a little awkward, a little clumsy, yet perfectly you.
it only makes him breathe out something softer against your mouth, amused, as if it’s exactly what he expected from you.
the kiss deepens for a few more seconds — slow, and warm — until it didn’t feel like teasing anymore. just a need held taut beneath careful restraint.
then he pulls back just slightly, just enough for air, his thumb still lingering at your cheek, in no rush to let you go.
“okay . . . was that . . a good goodbye?” you murmur, breathless, still a little dazed as you finally force yourself to step back.
he lets out a low “hm” under his breath, his thumb dragging lightly against your cheek. “yeah. it was good.”
“s’pose i can let you go now.” removing his hands from your sides, drawing a small, inward pout from you.
your hands went back to your purse, fingers already digging through it again—until sukuna stopped you.
“here.”
you pause.
and there they were.
your keys, dangling right in front of your face from his fingers with a soft jingle, cute, colorful keychains swinging in the quiet night air. you gasp before snatching them immediately.
“you bastard! you saw me looking for them!”
he lets out a soft huff of laughter, not even trying to defend himself. “you dropped them while you were busy runnin’ from me,” he hums, shifting his weight back against the brick wall beside him, a faint, sly smirk settling in on that stupidly handsome face of his, “when i asked if you forgot somethin’, you said no.”
you scoff before rolling your eyes, “well! i thought you were talking about saying bye?!”
his gaze flicks over you, steady and thoroughly amused. “two things can be true at once.”
you make a small sound of frustration and snatch the keys tighter in your hand, glaring up at him through your lashes anyway.
“…thanks,” you mutter.
“…go on,” he murmurs, voice low. “before i change my mind and keep you right here.”
and you knew he wasn’t joking. that man was about one breath from devouring you right then and there.
you turn quickly, fumbling with the lock, the soft jingle of your keys echoing in the stillness, his presence still radiating from behind you. his gaze dropped briefly to your hands . . .
“you alright?”
“yes.”
“you’ve missed your keyhole three times now.”
“i know!” you shoot back immediately.
the door unlocked with a soft click, warm light spilling out into the hallway.
“ okay . . . ” you hummed.
“okay,” he repeated, looking down at you expectantly, waiting for you to head inside.
but instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.
a low, rough laugh rumbled out of him before his arms circled around you instantly, strong biceps trapping your head against his chest. his scent, a deep, clean mix of cologne, so distinctly him, filling up your senses and making your head feel all dizzy.
despite his rough exterior, sukuna was soft, surprisingly so. maybe it was the steady weight of his chest against your body, or maybe it was the quiet way he held you that made it hard to think. either way.
you liked it.
you pulled away first with a small cough and an awkward straightening of your clothes, cheeks warm enough to burn through metal.
“okay! um— bye, sukuna,” you blurted awkwardly, already backing toward your apartment door.
except your shoulder clipped the doorframe on the way in.
“fuck—”
you fumbled with the handle in a panic before practically stumbling inside. “bye! goodnight!”
and then, you’re gone.
the door shutting a little too hard behind you, a muffled “ow!” coming from behind the door.
outside, sukuna exhales through his nose, shaking his head as the corner of his mouth curled upward.
（contents）♪ f reader、fluff、slight insecurity frm zuko、reader is a little awkward but so is he、they are just so cute、set before having to fight the fire nation >< . . 𓊆ྀི wc: 1.1k 𓊇ྀི
one night, zuko was laying wide awake underneath the inky sky dotted with twinkling stars, unable to fall asleep for whatever reason. it might have been the sudden flurry of memories of his sweet mother that waded through his mind or the impending sense of doom of having to soon face his ruthless father alongside the avatar — he did not know.
as the night time waned on, he heard a faint rustle from behind which made him sit up right, hands up ready to attack. but then he heard your small yelp and he lowered his hands as he muttered an apology.
"it's okay," you whispered, shooting him an impish smile and staring at the empty space beside him. of course you wouldn't ever just ask him if you could sit there, too shy to do so. with a gentle smile, he patted the ground, letting you know that it was okay for you to sit with him. and so you did, your knees brushing against his, making his cheeks flare with a light pink hue.
"you couldn't sleep either?," he asked, unconsciously shifting closer to you.
"well. . ." you hesitated, looking down at your lap as a tiny chuckle left your lips. his heart thumped at the sound. ". . . actually, i have a teensy confession."
he waited for you to continue, quite intrigued about what you were about to admit to him. your eyes flitted towards his face for a second, and just as quickly turning away as heat rose to your cheeks, unable to look at the boy who was gazing at you like you were the most dear thing in the world.
"i usually stay up much later than all of you because i absolutely love star gazing. i've loved to do that ever since i was a child and i've just never grown out of it. well anyways. . . i noticed you were awake because you kept kindling little flames on your fingers and i figured i could join you."
zuko could not help but scoff at this revelation — though not out of mockery, just simple adoration. it did make sense since you'd always have your head tilted up to the sky once it was dark, a shimmer sparkling in your eyes that mirrored the twinkle of the stars above.
"star gazing, huh?," he mused. "care to teach me a thing or two?"
and boy! a thing too many you taught him! he had never seen you so ecstatic, moving so animatedly as you harped on and on about the wide expanse of our universe, how the stars are a true glimpse into the past, and which constellations and planets were your favourites.
"you even have a favourite planet?," he questioned, raising his brow in curiosity. unbeknownst to either of you, the two of you had inched closer to one another, shoulders leaning against the other and hands mere centimetres apart.
"mhm! wanna take a guess as to which one it is?"
he sincerely pondered about it, taking into account everything he knew about you. after much thought, he guessed, "saturn?"
you shook your head, "it's venus. or even known as aphrodite."
"isn't she the goddess of love?"
"yes she is," you mused, a soft smile ghosting over your features. "it seems almost poetic. she is named after the hottest planet in our solar system, mirroring her own reverance and beauty. don't you think?"
"sounds like something my uncle would say," he remarked, a tight smile tugging at his lips.
you chuckled at that, his heart fluttering like a rabid butterly in the wild. and then a silence fell between you two, though not in the least bit awkward. it felt serene. welcoming even.
zuko slowly turned his head to face you, but you had beaten him to it, already staring at him. he knew exactly where you were looking at too and this unsettling feeling began to brew at the pits of his stomach — you were looking at his scar.
it was as if you were studying that god-for-saken wound that had been forever carved into him. the more you stared, the more troubled he felt. "what's with you?," he hissed, but not with the same venom he used to carry before.
"oh i'm sorry! i wasn't. . . i didn't mean to do it in a rude way. well, what i mean is that i wasn't looking at it because it's weird. because it's not! obviously! i was just —"
he interrupted you, "calm down. i'm not mad. i was simply wondering."
you sighed, taking in a shaky breath to try regain some sort of composure back. he patiently waited for you to ground yourself, not unfamiliar with these little 'outbursts' of yours — a quip of yours he had really come to adore.
"sorry. . . what i wanted to say was that. . ."
your gaze fell back to his scar.
"it reminds me of venus."
zuko was truthfully stunned. his mind felt dazed, unable to process what you had just said to him. was it an insult? was it a compliment? what did you even mean by that?
as if you read his mind, you carried on, "the colour, the bumps, the savagery of it all. it reminds me of venus. tragic yet beautiful in it's own way."
beautiful. what an odd word to describe him, he thought to himself. he'd almost wanted to laugh at you for saying such an absurd thing but he couldn't when he saw just how genuine you were being — like you actually believed he was anything other than the ugly monster he used to be (and still was, as per his belief).
"that is quite a compliment," he mumbled, his entire face searing with heat that he felt he could combust.
"i mean it," you said, voice soft yet unwavering.
a beat.
then your fingers brush against the crimson wound, touch dove-like and fleeting. much to both of your surprise, he had not flinched, not a bit. if anything, he had leaned into it, eyes closed in contentment. and so your touch became bolder but still tender, like you were holding a prized porcelain piece that you were scared to break.
a brief flicker of confidence surged through him and so before it fizzled out, he held your hand to the left of his face, letting your whole palm feel the ridges of his burned scar and your fingers rest over his eyelids. the warmth radiating from your skin brought him an immeasurable amount of comfort — so warm that it cooled down the sting of his wound.
"i think you are more like aphrodite though," he susurrated, delicately tracing your hand with his calloused fingers. "and i am. . . ares. isn't that more fitting?"
you giggled sweetly, that pretty smile of yours only making his earlier assertion more true in his mind.
oh, who was he kidding? — to him, you surpassed the goddess aphrodite in every manner.
❤︎ ⸝⸝ FOUR LETTERS ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀aang spots the little name on your hands drawn with mehendi
（contents）♪ fem!woc reader、south asian reader、fluff、sort of modern au setting — 𓊆ྀི wc: 1.1k 𓊇ྀི
aang had seen many grand events & festivities in his life, but none of them even held a candle to what he was witnessing at the moment — a big, fat, desi wedding. hundreds of thousands of family & friends dancing & chatting around, lively loud music blasting throughout the area, & delicious food plattered everywhere. he was absolutely enjoying every single moment of it, living it up & getting to learn so much more about your culture.
you had invited him to your cousin's wedding as your plus one & the moment you did, he'd been jumping off the walls with excitement to finally meet your family & to hopefully leave a good impression on them. he had even been so eager to pick out his own kurta, wanting the colour scheme to match perfectly with your lehenga so that everyone would know who you were with.
and my, did everyone know. from the moment he'd stepped foot into the venue with you, he'd been bombarded with a million questions left & right from your relatives about your relationship — how you two met; what kind of person you were with him; what drew him to you; when you two were planning to get married & have children.
aang hadn't ever encountered people being quite so intrusive right off the bat but yet, he didn't find it the least bit uncomfortable because of how warmly they were all treating him. he thinks he could get used to this kind of pampering!
after having a rather lengthy conversation with your father about his future, aang decided to go & look for you, having been seperated from you for far too long（which was roughly just about under half an hour!）he pushed through the sea of people who were either busy dancing their hearts out or stuffing their stomachs till they were sure to explode. he smiled at everyone he passed by, just in such high spirits at the jovial occassion & that he'd been so lucky to be brought here with you.
soon enough, he bumped into one of your cousins who was busy scarfing down the food. aang plopped down beside her, making her nearly throw the whole plate away in shock. then when she realised it was just him, her body relaxed & she grinned at him, "bhaiya! my god, you scared me! where have you been?"
"oh i've just been roaming around here & there. talking to everyone."
"you enjoying yourself?" she asked as she gulped down on her mango lassi — a beverage that aang admittedly had grown addicted to once he got a taste of it. yeah, he was definitely going to pester you at home now to make this for him!
"very much! though i have just been searching for my sweet girl, have you seen her around anywhere?"
she thought about it for a few moments before she replied, "she might be getting her mehendi done."
he cocked his head in confusion, "what's that?"
"oh, it's basically like body art."
aang began to envision you in something akin to face paint which did make him smile, truth be told. he thought you'd be covered in streaks of colours with comical doodles drawn all over you. he thought you'd look beautiful regardless, albeit a little silly!
❤︎ 𓂅 𓈒 ˖
your cousin had led him to where you were — in some corner of the venue with a crowd of your relatives all around. in an instant, he had spotted you in the crowd, adorning that deep red & golden lehenga you'd purchased to match his own suit. and then you paired it with the prettiest set of golden jhumkhas he'd ever seen & his heart nearly stopped beating from just how beautiful you looked.
aang saw you seated down in front of some man, arms stretched out as he drew intricate designs all over your skin, hand steady & precise. when he came closer to take a better look, he was quite struck truth be told. with how pretty it looked against your complexion & how happy you looked, his breath was taken away.
"aang!" you called out. he met your eyes & was so enamoured at how ecstatic you looked. he practically skipped towards you, kneeling down besides you as he planted a soft kiss to the top of your head.
"hi princess." he mused as he stared at the gorgeous artwork being drawn on you, running all the way from the palm of your hands to your forearms — there was a large flower in the middle of your palms surrounded by other intricate flora accompanied with some other detailed line art. of course, it wasn't at all as colourful as he had imagined it to be but nevertheless . . it was all very stunning to him!
"is this what mehendi is?" he asked, watching in awe as the man continued his handiwork, putting in the finishing touches.
"yes! how did you know? did someone tell you?"
"your cousin. the one you used to sneak out with & get drunk with every night, if i am not mistaken." aang chuckled to himself when he saw the way your eyes were narrowed at him in a playful glare.
"it was not every night!" you retorted, a small pout on your lips. "just . . maybe every week."
"quite the rebellious kid, weren't you?" he chuckled again when you lightly shoved him with your shoulder. his arm snaked itself around your waist, squeezing the side gently.
aang's eyes scanned your arms & as he did, he noticed something . . something that instantly made his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. four little letters written & hidden within the flora, drawn so prettily that he felt his heart flutter — and those little letters spelt out 'AANG'.
"is that my name?" he asked, pointing to your fingers where it was drawn.
"mhm!" you quipped sweetly, leaning your head on the top of his shoulders. "i thought it would be pretty nice. whatcha think about it?"
"i love it!" he sang, smushing his cheek against yours. you squirmed a little in his grasp, trying your best to release yourself from him but unable to stop while you giggled loudly. "you're the cutest thing ever, baby! can i get this on myself too, with your name?"
"well . . men usually don't get it done on themselves—" your heart nearly felt like shattering when you saw the way he looked so dejected, looking down with those wide puppy eyes of his & that darn adorable sad pout. oh, you could not bear to look at him this way. ". . it isn't a strict rule that men can't do it though so if you really want to, you can."
aang's eyes instantly twinkled, his lips curving up into the biggest grin you've ever seen on him. he shot his arms forwards to the artist seated in front of you, pulling up the sleeves, "great! write her name in big, cursive letters all over my forearms! on both of them please, bhaiya!"
jeez, he really was the cutest man you've ever met!
ex-bf riki x riki-hater gf. riki stops at literally nothing to get his ball back
!! - smau, crack, suggestive, fem reader, profanity, exes to lovers, riki is a model but also does bookclub (?), enemies to lovers if u squint, riki needs new pants, reader loves that block button.
⋆༺♱༻⋆
💌
authors note: i enjoy loser riki a lot. ok thanks enjoy #yolo
₊ ݃ ࿔ྀིྀ ꒰ 𓈒 NANAMI KENTO might be the pettiest man alive . . .
⎯⎯ ꒰ 1.3k ! ꒱ 💭
contrary to outsider belief, your marriage to nanami worked remarkably well. too well.
a shocking revelation, considering you were “ill-tempered” while nanami had the patience of a saint, allegedly . . . .
the truth of the matter was that beneath the all the composure, politeness, and that expensive wristwatch kento always wore on his wrist, your husband unfortunately was just as much of a brat as you were.
if not, worse.
the two of you held grudges over the stupidest things imaginable: once, nanami corrected your pronunciation of “espresso” during breakfast. so? you didn’t kiss him goodbye before work for three whole days.
in retaliation, your coffee that he would make you each morning mysteriously happened to arrive without the three ounces of sugar you so adamantly required to — “balance out the armpit taste.”
petty. childish. ridiculous.
yet somehow, these cold wars became the foundation of a deeply functional marriage.
“kento dear,” you began, soft steps quietly thudding against the wooden floors as you made your way to him, who was fully dressed: soft charcoal sweater hanging off his frame, pushed up revealing his forearms, reading glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose while his sandy locs unstyled in a way you almost never got to see outside these walls.
which, unfortunately, was the problem. he was far too comfortable for the atrocities he had just committed against you whilst you slept.
“did you touch it?” your voice coming out suspiciously calm.
nanami doesn’t even look up from the cup of jasmine tea he was nursing. “no.”
you only narrow your eyes as you finally end up next to him. “kento.”
that bratty tone of yours was enough to earn you a glance now, hazel eyes tired yet sharp all the same. “i told you, no.”
“yeah, well,” you huff, crossing your arms, looking up at him expectantly, “waking up feeling like i got left in a meat locker says otherwise.”
he shuts his eyes as he takes a slow sip of his tea, setting it down with a soft clink, the steam curling between you. “interesting,” he begins, voice flat with quiet amusement.
“you seem quite functional for someone who claims they’re—” he pauses, unimpressed, before lifting his hand and giving your forehead a quick, precise knock with his knuckles, withdrawing before you can even think to catch his wrist. “—frozen solid.”
“ugh!” you huff, hands missing his wrist and instead clutching your forehead with an adorable frown. “i’m not frozen solid, but i’m going to be. i don’t know why you just can’t leave it on 72.”
he exhales slowly through his nose, “you know i get hot. i shouldn’t have to strip to be comfortable in my own home,” he says flatly.
his hand lifts without much ceremony, gently replacing yours on your forehead. he briefly rubs the spot he’d knocked before his fingers slip down to tug lightly at your ear, earning an immediate, indignant whine from you.
“or would you prefer i start walking around the house naked instead?”
“what? i’m not answering that.” you say, turning your face slightly away from him, the words coming out clipped as you huff under your breath, “pervert…”, still clearly offended at the recurring offenses.
you manage to slap his arm away. “i don’t see why you insist on wearing long sleeves and then complain you’re hot.” you grumble. “you’re making me hot just by looking at you.”
he scoffs softly at that, as if the answer is obvious. “i wear it because i enjoy being properly dressed,” he replies, smoothing an imaginary crease from his sleeve before leveling you with a look. “and physiologically speaking, it’s significantly easier to warm up than it is to cool down.”
“so, like i said,” he murmurs, reaching for his tea again, “the thermostat stays where it is.”
and just like that, the war begins . . .
the rest of the day was full of quiet hostilities:
the two of you swiping the thermostat in opposite directions each time you walked by, addressing each other by first name as if you were two disgruntled coworkers trapped in an enemies to lovers arrangement rather than of spouses, nanami opening windows for “circulation” while you wrapped yourself in blankets like a victorian child afflicted with a devastating illness, texting each other back and forth instead of verbally communicating.
YOU ‣
my hands are blue and numb. i hope your happy
KENTO ‣
*You’re
How are you texting me then?
YOU ‣
don’t be annoying ken.
that’s not the point
clearly, neither of you were willing to concede. which only meant this was quickly becoming a battle of endurance rather than a dispute about “temperature”. which also meant this was not going to end soon.
or so you thought.
despite the many, many hours of domestic warfare, the two of you still end up in bed the same way you always did, backs turned dramatically beneath the blankets, the thermostat unfortunately still set at 63. which meant nanami was winning.
the cold seeped through the sheets and curled around your legs until your body instinctively tucks in on itself, shoulders hunching deeper beneath the comforter with a quiet frown hidden against your pillow. beside you, nanami remaining entirely unaffected, laid comfortably on his side with one arm tucked beneath his pillow, warmth practically radiating off of him in waves.
it was infuriating.
because no matter how committed you were to the cold war, your body had always betrayed you first when it came to your husband.
sometime somewhere in between stubbornness and sleep, you found yourself shifting toward him subconsciously, inch by inch until your forehead presses against his back, your leg slipping over his beneath the blankets in search of warmth. the soft fabric of the white shirt he’d changed into earlier brushes against your skin, warm from sleep and smelling faintly of cedarwood and tea.
and god, the bastard was warm.
firm beneath your touch too, broad shoulders relaxing slightly the second you curl fully into him with a sleepy little sigh.
you knew he was awake. you could tell by his breathing, it wasn’t the same comforting slow that soothed you once the day came to an end.
for a moment, neither of you said anything, pride still clawing at your insides. then came the soft shifting of sheets before nanami turned toward you, your forehead brushing against his chest as his strong arms came to cage you in instinctively, one settling around your waist while the other tucked beneath your head. his chin rested atop your hair with a quiet exhale, pulling you into his warmth.
your fingers curl weakly into the front of his shirt, face pressing deeper against his chest despite yourself. somewhere above you, nanami hums softly, entirely too aware of the fact that you were the one to cave first.
an inevitable outcome.
“interesting,” he murmurs into your hair, sleep roughening his voice. “what happened to hating me?”
you grumble something incoherent against him.
“mm?” he asks, entirely too pleased with himself. “couldn’t quite hear you love.”
your brows pinch immediately. “still hate you.”
his chest rumbles faintly beneath your cheek at that, amusement subtle but absolutely there. absolutely nanami.
“so, you admit defeat?”
you tilt your head up just enough to glare at him through the dark. “i told you. don’t say anyth—”
you were going to argue. save whatever was left of your pride.
except your words barely make it out before he tips your face up just enough to cut you off with a slow kiss, warm and unbearably smug beneath the blankets.
any and all insults died in your throat as butterflies began to bloom low in your stomach, your leg still hiked around his waist while his warmth slowly melted the last stubborn pieces of your pride away as your lips firmly molded against his own, a soft sigh escaping you. one of spite, obviously.
you could feel the faint curve of amusement against your lips when your annoyed little huff melts into him anyway — the exact outcome the two of you had been stubbornly dancing around all day out of pettiness and “spite.”
nanami pulls away from you before resting his thumb on your lower lip. “there you are love,” he murmurs softly against your mouth, breath mingling with yours: entirely too pleased with himself.
“63 seems perfectly fine to me, no?”
he only watches as your expression softens in real time before giving the faintest nod — mentally noting the effect he had on you.
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