Sleepy eyes and surprises
Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Chubby Black Reader
Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Established Relationship
Word Count: ~2.4k
Note: sorry this took so long I’m trying to get caught up on requests but I’m posting a kendo fanfic today!!
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The sun peeked over the edge of the city skyline, but Hitoshi Shinso was still buried beneath layers of warm blankets, snoring softly into the crook of his arm. It was his birthday—but the man could sleep through a damn earthquake, and you knew that well.
You stood in the kitchen barefoot, wearing one of his oversized hoodies and fuzzy socks that kept sliding down your ankles. You moved with care, flipping pancakes shaped like sleepy cats and brewing his favorite tea—lavender and honey, just the way he liked it. You even remembered to add a splash of oat milk, because “dairy before noon is evil,” as he liked to claim.
Your curly hair was pulled into a loose puff, and your cheeks were still warm from sneaking peeks at the gift-wrapped surprise in the hallway closet. This year, you’d gone all out.
It was Shinso’s first birthday since you’d moved in together. And you were determined to make him feel everything—seen, loved, celebrated.
“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, placing the pancakes on a plate and adding a few strawberries in the shape of a heart. “Operation: Wake Up My Grumpy Man is a go.”
Balancing the tray carefully, you tiptoed toward the bedroom. Your hips brushed the doorframe as you nudged it open with one elbow.
“Mornin’, birthday boy,” you sang softly.
A low, gravelly groan came from the bed. One violet eye cracked open, squinting at the light behind you.
“You tryna kill me with affection first thing in the morning?” he rasped.
You giggled and walked in slowly, hips swaying a little on purpose. “Nope. Just trying to spoil the man I love. Is that a crime?”
He rolled over onto his back and held out an arm. “Might be. C’mere before I start thinking this is a dream.”
You carefully set the tray on the nightstand and climbed into the bed beside him. Instantly, Shinso pulled you into his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His voice was still low, thick with sleep.
“Mmm… you smell like syrup.”
You laughed, rubbing his back gently. “That’s probably ‘cause I made you cat-shaped pancakes.”
He leaned back, blinking at you in disbelief. “You didn’t.”
“I did. And you’re gonna eat every single one.”
Shinso sat up slowly, his lavender hair sticking out in all directions. The duvet slipped down, revealing his bare chest and sleep-warm skin. You couldn’t help but admire the contrast—his lean, pale frame against your soft, rich curves.
“You’re unreal, baby,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he took the tray. “This is… cute. Too cute.”
You plopped beside him, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him take the first bite. His expression melted.
“Okay, you win,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “You’re the best girlfriend ever.”
You smirked and leaned over, brushing crumbs off his lips. “I know.”
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After breakfast, you surprised him again—this time with a scavenger hunt. Each clue led him to something small but meaningful:
• A keychain with a mini version of your first date spot engraved on it.
• A photo strip you secretly snapped of him napping with your cat, Sushi.
• A black hoodie with “Property of (Y/N)” stitched into the sleeve.
And finally, the grand finale: a wrapped box with two tickets to an underground pro-hero wrestling match—something Shinso had been talking about for months but never bought himself.
His face lit up. “You remembered this?”
“I always remember what you mumble about at 2 a.m. while wrapped around me like a human octopus.”
He flushed slightly, running a hand through his hair. “You’re scary good at this.”
“Nah,” you shrugged. “Just in love with you, that’s all.”
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That evening, you had more surprises up your sleeve. After a cozy dinner at his favorite ramen shop, the two of you returned home. The living room lights were dimmed, and you’d lit a few candles. The entire apartment smelled like warm vanilla and cinnamon.
Shinso stood in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over the decorated space. “Did you… throw me a party?”
You nodded, grinning. “Just us two. A ‘party’ doesn’t need guests to be special.”
He stared at you for a long moment, and something in his expression softened. His arms came around your waist, pulling you close.
“You really did all this… for me?”
You tilted your head, resting your forehead against his. “You’ve done nothing but support me, Hitoshi. Even when I doubt myself or feel insecure, you always make me feel like I’m everything. I just wanted to give that back to you today.”
His lips brushed yours softly—once, then twice. When he pulled away, his voice was low and sincere.
“You are everything. And this? This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
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Later that night, you curled up on the couch together, him in sweats and you in a silk nightdress that you knew made his brain short-circuit.
You fed each other tiny slices of cake, and he wouldn’t stop calling you “sweetheart” every five minutes, mumbling how soft you felt under his fingertips and how lucky he was to come home to you every night.
“I never liked my birthday much,” he confessed, tracing lazy circles on your exposed thigh. “Felt like I didn’t deserve to be celebrated. But you… you make me feel worth it.”
You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint scar near his jaw. “You’ve always been worth it, baby. You just needed someone who sees you. And I do. Every sleepy eye roll, every grumble, every moment you hold me like I’m precious. I see you.”
He leaned in again, this time with more intention, and kissed you like you were the gift.
And as the candles flickered in the background, you knew he’d remember this birthday—not for the gifts or pancakes, but for how loved he finally felt.
