a/n: angel said soft kenma and now here we are,, i hate it here.
set post-timeskip
warnings: domestic kenma, literally,, domestic,,, god this is so cheesy i hate it here,,, tw a child ?
You could count it on one hand, with exactly three fingers. Only three to count how many times he’s said it out loud, each time a little different from the rest.
“I like you.”
It comes quietly late at night with shimmering stars hanging above you and a bitter cold biting at your cheeks as he walks you home. The feel of his fingers brushing against yours drawing you closer as you search golden eyes for a hint of a lie, a joke.
“Are you sure?” The question is barely above a whisper, you wonder if you imagined what he said in the first place as he straightens himself out before you. There’s a crease that pinches his brow, a tilt of his head before he lets out a sigh and chilled fingers slide against your cheeks.
“With you? Yeah.” There isn’t a chance for even a second thought as chapped lips drag across yours.
“I want you.”
No more than three months had passed since his little more than casual confession that left your heart pounding and stomach in knots. Three months of quiet moments and shy touches. When the statement reaches your half asleep ears as you lounge in his bed it’s startling, it’s thrilling.
“Now?” You mumble as you rub the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you watch as he slides onto the bed, moving to hover over you, his hair falling before his eyes, masking whatever intentions he holds.
“Always.” Punctuated by kisses peppering up your throat, dragging against your jaw, settling at your chin. Gentle touches follow close as he mumbles something incoherent against your flesh.
“I love you.”
His hand slides over the swell of your belly, the statement whispered over and over in reverie as if it’s a prayer to the gods above. You brush a stray strand of hair over his ear, a fond smile pressing against your lips as you watch him whisper quietly to your growing stomach.
“Oh?” You hum as he nods his head slowly, as if the sliver of a question had long been answered.
“Yeah, you,” he offers a chaste kiss to your stomach, “and you.” He sits up abruptly, gently pulling you into his arms, your head falling against his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he presses his lips to the top of your head. Each beat of his heart lulls you into a quiet peace, the sensation of being pulled into slumber slinking over your body.
You feel a pull at your hand, opening yours eyes just enough to watch as Kenma traces over the gold band adorning your finger, the matching piece settled on his own, a fluttering in your chest as he twists yours slowly, just three times.
