#nothing but fluff

[vamp4kaulitz]

MORNINGS W GRUMPY BILL

no pronouns pacifically used can be seen as any gender

2006-2008 bill , will make a 2023 one i promise

Bill had a real busy schedule today, so you guys had to wake up early. Of course you knew Bill wasn’t a morning person, so it was hard with your mornings with him. You usually woke up earlier than him (if you don’t pretend shhh). You tossed and turned in bed and then yawned. You turned over and saw Bill sleeping. “How can someone be so fine when sleeping?” You thought. Only Bill Kaulitz can. You smiled and then got up and brushed your teeth before you went and woke up him.

“Bill?” You softly said while shaking him a bit. “Hmmm…” He whined while turning away from you. “Bill, we have to get ready. You have a very busy schedule today.” You said and Bill slowly opened his eyes. “A few more minutes.” He spoke and then fell back asleep. You chuckled and then hugged him. “Bill, come on..” “Schatz..Please..” He whined while wiggling around. “Fine, I’m gonna go get georg.” You smirked because you knew georg will definitely wake him up. As soon as he heard georg’s name he woke tf up.

“Meine Liebe you’re such a meanie!” Bill complained and then got up and went to brush his teeth and stuff. You also got ready and packed some of you guys stuff you’ll definitely need.

Once you guys had got on the bus, Bill was ignoring the fuck out of you. You knew he wasn’t a morning person, so of course he had his little tantrums in the morning. “Bill can you—“ “No!” “I didn’t even finish my sentence!!” “Nooo!” He whined while wiggling away from you and turning to the window. You sighed and shook your head. The whole ride he ignored you and when you tried to put your head on his shoulder he’d whine and shrug you off him. Bill didn’t care who he lashed out on, he just wanted to sleep more.

“That’s what you get for sleeping at 2 in the morning Bill.” You would say when he whined about wanting to sleep and being tired.

Of course his little tantrums and whiny mood disappeared once it was the afternoon. You would explain to him how he acted and he would be so upset at himself for pushing you away. “Meine Liebe!!” He whined while hugging you. “I’m sorry!! You know how I can act in the morning..” He pouted and you chuckled. “Don’t worry baby, I’m used to it by now.” No matter how your used to it, you found it cute every time.

requests open pls request

pic credit tokiosaturn0 dm to remove if owner only

rules for requests ⬇️

[salaimoi]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ thank you. ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

short fluffy gojo satoru x fem reader for a change ᵔᴗᵔ

wc: 363

Satoru always knew just what to say when you were on your period—aching with cramps and headaches. you’d usually tough it out and refuse to take any medicine to aid with the pain and that bothered him.

he knew you refused to take them so you wouldn’t seem “weak” in front of him. you could’ve lost an arm in the most brutal way but you would still put up a front for him.

he’d plant small kisses on your forehead while he massaged your shoulders and repeated a million i love you’s. he was too caring for his own good, putting others over him—especially you—because he had a soft spot for his pretty girl.

you were the epitome of divinity in his eyes. your aura alone made you irresistible to someone like him—someone who didn’t believe in love because it never ended the same way it did in the movies. he always witnessed how the guy got the girl, and they lived happily ever after, but that never happened to him—until you.

the heavens must have finally smiled upon him for a change when you bumped into him that fated day and spilled fresh roasted coffee on his expensive clothes. the embarrassed smile that adorned your face as you apologized to him for being so careless—the redness stained your face like paint to a canvas. he reassured it was okay, but you knew deep down that you made yourself look like a fool in front of such a handsome man like satoru.

ever since that day, you made sure to not let him see you in such a vulnerable state because of how passive he became around you. he never said no to you or even raised his voice at you—you were too precious to him for him to do so.

you were his everything. you planted a kidney bean that later sprouted inside him, turning all his hatred and bitterness into love and benevolence.

he could spend a thousand years thanking you for doing so, but even then it wouldn’t be enough. you personified the promise that things would get better when he was beginning to fall into despair.

you saved him.

[lostmyremembrall]

Come study/work with Ominis Gaunt in the Library!

So I've been studying to this for the past month, slowly adjusting the audio files, ambience... And I think it's ready!

Sweet Ominis will...

ask you to take a break at 50 minutes.

give words of encouragement

engage in chatter about Sebastian

eat snacks with you

tell you about his potion assignment

subtly ask you out to Hogsmeade

fall asleep in front of you

The timestamp for all his lines is in the youtube video description. Hope you guys enjoy! (This is my first time with AI voice and video editing, so any feedback is welcome!)

[3-2-whump]

Long Weekend

<prev next>

The premise: The mafia boss is away on a long business trip; and he asks Nico to look after Khaled for the weekend.

I know my handwriting is crap, so text reads as follows:

K: Can you believe it? A long weekend business trip! A whole Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to do whatever we want to do! I was thinking we could start with a movie, maybe go to the beach, play some soccer- N: -All of that is entirely possible, but first, I gotta pick up a friend... K: Wait, this isn't the same friend that gave me a pint of beer that one time, is it? N: No, it's him. J: What? You gonna start on all the fun without me? K: Julio! Wait, you two know each other? Okay, how did that happen? J: Uh- N: Doesn't matter! Now, about that movie you wanted to see...

How They Spent Their Long Weekend:

Movie Scene:

N: *has seen Spirited Away +100 times by now, still cries every time* K: *seeing Spirited Away for the first time, already loves it* J: *has seen Spirited Away ~5 times (?), is currently enjoying the popcorn*

Hookah Scene:

N: This is really nice. We should come back here some day, like maybe for your birthday.

Keep-Away Scene:

N: Wait, why am I in the middle? J: Because, Mr. 'Real Football,' Khaled and I know what to do with our feet!

High AF Scene:

N: Duuuuuuuude, you have got to bring those pot brownies again J: 'mkay K: *asleep already*

Pride Fest:

*no dialogue*

Cleaning House:

N: I'm back from the liquor store! God damn, the Boss has some expensive tastes... J: You know, of all the ways I thought we'd spend our last day of our epic weekend together, cleaning this bastard's apartment for free was not what I imagined. K: Less bitching, more vacuuming! Unless you want to use your tongue to clean the floors! (You don't btw, it sucks :P)

Mainly this was because I wanted to draw the trio in fun and fluffy situations before shit gets real. I'm sorry/not sorry I didn't outline and color the whole thing, but I put my whole pussy into that first page and was like "nope" for the rest tbh.

(Plus drinking and outlining do not mix, apparently)

Enjoy the long weekend my OCs desperately deserve, and Happy (Near End of) Pride Month! 🏳️‍🌈

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[rookieoneil]

*lucy rambling*

Tim interrupting her: Will you marry me?

Lucy: what?

Tim: just looking for something to shut you up

Lucy:

Lucy: ask me for real

[sacrficialspork]

A short xiaoven scene… 🦋🍃🥰

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

“Where doesn’t it hurt?”

(7-4-2023)

- - -

Venti opened the door, spilling a sliver of moonlight into the room with a soft creak, and padded over to the bed. Gingerly, he set down a bowl of hot water and a washcloth, glancing at the state of his lover’s bandages. He sighed in relief — he had changed them three times already, and finally the blood seemed to have stopped seeping through. There were just a few more small cuts and bruises that looked like they could use some extra care.

Xiao cracked an eye open at the rustle of silk and the sensation of a warm cloth being pressed to his cheek. His aching fingers twitched, grasping for his spear, searching desperately through thin air. But instead of his weapon, fingers, warm and light, found his palm, and a hand slid into his own, a thumb caressing his bruised knuckles. He opened his eyes fully to see the face of his lover, and he felt the sigh of a gentle breeze run through the room.

“Venti…”

“Hello dearest,” Venti cooed, placing his cloth at the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“…hurts,” Xiao rasped.

“Hmm.. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

A pause lingered between the two. Venti’s eyes shone a little brighter, moonlight reflecting off the tears forming.

With a feather-light stroke to his lover’s cheek, he grounded himself, “Where doesn’t it hurt?”

Xiao’s eyes softened, carefully raising his arm and pointing to his elbow, “Here.”

A bit of tension lifted from Venti’s shoulders, his pained expression melting into the tiniest of smiles. Leaning forward, he placed a small, loving peck on Xiao’s elbow.

“Where else?”

“Here,” Xiao pointed to the tip of his shoulder.

“Hm,” Venti leaned further forward, dropping a light kiss to his shoulder. A single shimmering drop fell onto his dearest’s bandaged chest.

Lifting his head and smoothing the skin of Xiao’s cheek once more, he whispered, “Where else?”

Xiao didn’t answer. But his eyes shone with renewed vitality, with affection, and with tears pricking at the corners.

Please.

Cupping his cheek with the utmost care, Venti leaned down and pressed a soft peck to his dearest’s lips. And then another. And then a few more for good measure.

“Stay with me tonight?”

“Of course, love. Always.”

[fe-fictions]

Laslow x Corrin commission (Corrin is also a mercenary that’s come over with Laslow, Odin and Serena! It’s a bit of a different take, so I hope you like it! :3)

“I know that this is probably a lot to ask of you, but I’m just not sure what else I can do.” Xander looked apologetically to the young retainer in front of him. You tilted your head, curious what exactly could have the high prince of Nohr so very exasperated.

“What seems to be the problem, milord?”

“It’s Laslow.” He sighed, “That man is just…getting to be more and more out of control whether he’s at the Castle or he’s running around town, doing gods know what. I know that you two are close, and that you’re pretty good at keeping him, er, in check, so to speak.”

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to fight the inappropriate smiling that was threatening to cross your lips. “Are you asking me to babysit Laslow and keep him from chasing skirts?”

“I am afraid that is exactly what I am asking of you, Corrin.” Xander sighed again, clearly exasperated. “We are all grateful to Laslow for his talents, and he is a highly skilled swordsman and an excellent retainer. But the behavior he exhibits outside of battle - and sometimes during - is a poor reflection of Nohr, and has the potential to get him into more trouble than it already has. Can I count on you to help keep him in check?”

 You grinned, and bowed deeply to your liege. “I’d be more than happy to, milord. Laslow’s behavior is nothing I can’t handle. And now that I have explicit permission to do so…well, you won’t have to worry about scandalous reports anymore!”

“I do not mean to sow doubt or make you feel as though I lack confidence in your abilities, but I want to be certain. Can you rein him in, despite the fact that you two are close?”

“Aww, don’t worry about that.” You laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “We’re close, sure, but we wouldn’t be this way if we weren’t honest with each other. If he needs to be put in his place, then I’m the one he’d trust most to do that! Well, besides Serena or Odin.”

“Right. Well, then we will put our faith in you and trust that you will be able to handle his less than savory exploits. The reputation of the entire army rests on your shoulders, Corrin!”

You bowed deeply, withholding a brighter grin for when you were out of Xander’s sight. After all, you didn’t want him to think you were being disrespectful or making light of his request. 

But it would be a lie if you said there wasn’t a skip in your step.

Rather, you were quite elated with this new challenge.

The four of you had known each other for a long time. Being the daughter of a renowned thief with a penchant for sweets, you were quite happy to be among so many friends. You stuck together like glue; you knew each other better than anyone else.

As much as you enjoyed the company of Serena and Odin, you were the most fond of Laslow.

It was silly; he was an absolute mess of a human being, but he made you smile and laugh more than anyone else. And most importantly, you seemed to do the same for him.

But now, it looked like you were in charge of fixing up a rather precarious situation he’d gotten himself into. With a skip and a giggle, you scampered through camp in search of your target.

Thankfully, it did not take long for you to locate him. He was already bothering a poor sweet pegasus knight, who seemed to be doing everything she could to shrink away from him.

You grinned to yourself and made your way over, though Laslow seemed not to recognize it until it was far too late.

“So you’re saying you’re free for dinner tonight, hmmm?”

“I-I didn’t say I was free, I just said I didn’t have plans with you!”

“We could change that very easily. Shall I escort you to your table tonight, milady? I would truly be honored if you might grace me with a few minutes of your time.”

“I really shouldn’t fraternize with someone above my station, especially as Prince Xander’s-”

“There you are, sweetheart.” 

Laslow jumped when he heard your voice, only to be caught by your arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him into your side. Granted you were much shorter than he was, which meant he was quite awkwardly slumped over. 

You looked at him with a knowing smile and a wink, before giving an apologetic look to the innocent knight who seemed to be standing up only because she was grasping her spear so tightly.

“You can go on ahead- I need a moment alone with this troublemaker.”

“But I was just-”

“Now, now. I’m sure she has much more important things to handle besides your nonsense.”

Laslow watched with a deflated sigh as the woman bowed and scampered off. He looked back to you with an annoyed glare, but you knew he wasn’t mad.

How could he ever be mad at you?

“Come on, now- I was this close to getting a date.”

“You know, you’re always saying you’re close to getting a date, but whenever I see you trying to flirt, it seems more like you’re trying to scare the poor girls off.”

“I’m afraid you may need to get your  eyes checked, then.” He huffed, arms crossed. “Can’t you support me in my endeavors every once in a while?”

“Because your endeavors involve constantly harassing young ladies in an attempt to get their attention for half a second. Honestly, Laslow, you’re not some casanova that can pull off flirting with everyone and it be seen as perfectly normal. It comes off kind of creepy.”

“Creepy-?!” He choked, indignant at your accusation. “I’ll have you know I am far from such a thing! I’m far too handsome to be considered any sort of creep.”

“Sweetheart, ask literally anybody you’ve flirted with in the last…week.” You mulled it for a second, but the point was made. “Which brings me to the reason I’ve arrived.”

“It wasn’t to bully me and make me feel far worse about myself than any single human should?” He asked, quite deadpan despite the amusing glimmer in your eyes. 

“I was sent here on assignment, Laslow. I’m your new babysitter for the next little while!”

If he didn’t look impressed, he certainly didn’t, now. He looked down at you as if you’d said something utterly ludicrous.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Lord Xander has asked me personally to keep an eye on you for the time being. He’s not happy with your behavior as of late, and wants to make sure you keep the targeting of women in the army down to a minimum.”

He looked absolutely stunned, more so than angered. There was also maybe a hint of embarrassment mixed in as well, although he would never admit that, himself. 

Instead he stared at you in awe, practically shellshocked at the revelation that his own lord would assign him a supervisor. 

“But that’s…that’s utterly ridiculous!”

“Apparently it’s not, dear.” You sighed, patting his shoulder, “He’s gotten a lot of complaints both inside and outside of the army; it’s affecting the image of our troops when our boys are out gallivanting and chasing any and every tail they can get.”

“W-what about Niles?! He’s just as bad as me, if not worse!”

“Well, yes, but he’s a little more discreet about it; he tends to flirt when people approach, rather than chasing them down directly.”

“Oh, come now. It’s practically the same thing! And he’s far more vile than I am.”

“Well, when Prince Xander assigns me to be Niles’ babysitter next, I’ll be sure to let you know. But for now, we ought to focus on getting your behavior back under control.”

“Pah. Unbelievable.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it!” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, attempting to disarm him (which, fortunately for you, it was starting to work a little bit).

“How can I not be? He’s treating me like a child!”

“Well, to be fair, you are acting a little foolish around all those sweet ladies.”

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, looking away bashfully. “Very well, then. If you insist on keeping tabs on me, then we’ll have to put those skills to the test, won’t we?”

“You’re proposing a challenge?”

“Not necessarily,” He winked at you, slipping from your grasp with a rather ominous grin, “I’m just saying. You can’t keep tabs on me if you can’t keep track of me, can you?”

“All right, all right. Don’t do anything stupid.” You laughed, waving dismissively at his revelation. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, a dancer boy. Don’t think you can escape from me!”

Laslow just waved goodbye and sauntered off to do whatever it was he did when he wasn’t obscenely flirting with strangers. You shook your head, watching him slink away. He wouldn’t be on his own for long…provided he couldn’t stay out of trouble.

-------------------------

For about a day or two, he seemed to hold it together. But it wouldn’t be much longer before that fell apart. 

The poor mercenary was just trying to do his best to enjoy his time alone. Your job made that practically impossible. It was getting to the point that even if a girl did start to show him a little bit of attention, you were still jumping in the way so that he couldn’t even get a shot with her if he wanted it.

Laslow was absolutely annoyed. But worse yet, you were seriously cramping his style whenever he tried to put some moves on.

The good news was that the complaints had stopped.

Xander was quite pleased with the results, and if you were being honest, so were you; somehow, you’d managed to tame the ridiculous beast that was Xander’s retainer.

It really came to ahead when, after about four days of trying to dodge you and win the hand of some lovely young lady. 

He had a few thoughts about this behavior, but he was wise enough to keep it to himself. Something told him it was best not to question the judgment of the woman whom he was being constantly harassed by, lest he awaken some sort of mischievous revenge.

The pair of you were headed to the bar in town; a village not far from your most recent victory.

Everyone was in high spirits, but you weren’t planning on letting up on your dear Laslow for even a moment. 

Much to his chagrin, you continued to pursue him, and walked right alongside him humming a tuneless song.

“You mustn’t accompany me this time, my dear. It truly isn’t necessary when we’ll all be too drunk to remember what happened tonight by morning.” He attempted to reason with you, but it would not work.

You shook your head with a giggle, bumping his shoulder.

“Of course I have to watch after you! What if the one unlucky gal you try to chat up stays sober? Then we’re both in trouble! You, because, well, you’re you. And me, because my one job is to keep you from sullying the army’s reputation!”

“Come on, Corrin! Cut me a break, just this once!” He was getting more and more annoyed with his situation, and that much was clear.

“I can’t risk it!”

“Oh, I think you can.” He frowned, the agitation starting to show on his face. He crossed his arms, taking quite the accusatory tone. “In fact, I think you’ve been going overboard this whole time on purpose!”

“Why would you say something foolish like that?”

“Because you fancy me, don’t you?”

Your face blanched.

“You…I…what?”

“Ah-ha!” He pointed a finger at you, smirking. “You’ve liked me this whole time, and Lord Xander’s orders were naught but a ruse so you could get closer to me!”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide exactly what to do with the man who was quite possibly the strangest, most ignorant and oblivious creature you’d ever known.

After a while, though, you smiled and shrugged, deciding it best to simply speak the truth.

“Well of course I want to get closer to you. You’re one of the people I care about the most!”

“W-what?” He faltered, his hand quickly falling. “Seriously? I was right?!”

“I mean, I don’t know about the whole ‘I fancy you’ thing, but I certainly do enjoy being around you. And it’s been fun messing with you and stuff, so I haven’t really minded this.”

“Oh, whatever.” He waved you off with a click of his tongue, the agitation returning full force.

You laughed again, brighter than before. 

“I’m sorry!! It’s just that you make it so easy with your bad flirting. Even the drunk girls wouldn’t give a second of their time to you, whether or not you corner them. I just want to keep you out of trouble, Laslow. Let me do my job, huh?”

“So I don’t even get one day off? Not even one chance to try and get my shot in there with some lucky lady?”

You rolled your eyes, resting a hand on your hip.

“You think you can pull one girl that won’t report you for harassment and get us both in trouble?” 

Laslow winked at you, “I’ll never flirt with another woman ever again if I can’t pick up a single beauty tonight.”

At this, your curiosity piqued.

“Really? You’d be willing to stake your flirting rights on one night?”

Again he waved a dismissive hand, and stooped over to pluck a few particularly charming little wildflowers from the path side. 

“Of course! If I must put my all into it, then the game will have completely changed. If you let me try and win over a single beauty tonight, and I fail, then I shall never flirt again. However, if I do succeed, you have to back off.”

“But then I’d be disobeying a direct order from Lord Xander.” You pointed out, not thrilled with the outcome, judging that he’d likely have your head if that was the reason Laslow’s behavior went unchecked again.

“That’s true… Very well then, instead of ceasing your operations completely, you only step in once every five attempts.”

“Every five?! How will I explain the break in my immaculate record?!”

“Hey, if I have to go completely cold turkey, you have to throw me a bone! Come on, these are high stakes for both of us! It’s only fair.”

“Hrmm…” You rubbed your chin, considering the option. It was certainly a gamble, but if it meant keeping Laslow out of trouble for the foreseeable (eternal) future, then…

“Well?”

“All right, it’s a deal.” You held your hand out, which he gladly took up. “You win, then I’ll back off. I win, you’re a virgin forever.”

“I-I’m not a virgin!!”

“That’s exactly what a virgin would say.”

“Shut up.” He pushed you away, earning a cackle as you scampered back to his side. The poor mercenary was at a loss with what to do with you.

The pair of you continued down the path to the village tavern, catching up with the rest of your comrades. 

The festivities were already in full swing, raucous cheers and mead abound in the boisterous place.

It was a delight to see. 

But the real fun was about to begin, once the challenge officially initiated.

Laslow started off fairly strong, sweeping the room with expert analysis in search of a willing participant in the battle of wits.

You deliberately kept your distance, opting to find a few pints for the two of you while he started sober. It was his best chance at success, after all.

He persisted with stronger-than-usual charm. 

Locating his first potential new girlfriend, his eyes sparkled brighter and his grin was far wider than usual, and he swung in with easily one of his best lines (learned from his father, no doubt).

One of the little wildflowers was presented to a lovely young woman with flowing lavender hair. You watched behind your cup as he spoke some sweet nothings to her, and leaned in closer. It seemed to be going fairly well.

Then she stuck her nose up and turned on her heel, striding away from him in a huff. Laslow’s shoulders slumped. 

You closed the distance with a soft snicker, offering the pint for him to take. 

“So, what are your odds tonight, do you think?”

He took it with a glare, straightening his shoulders again. “I think we’re just getting started.”

-------------------------

Laslow just didn’t get it. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how sweet or tender or empathic he was, the girls just wouldn’t take the bait.

No amount of flowers or polite compliments were getting him progress, neither were his more bold and daring pick-up lines.

The night was nearly over, but he remained empty handed and fruitless in his pursuit. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t getting frustrated, but what made this all the more agitating was the fact that there was so much pressure on this night being successful.

You, on the other hand, were starting to feel a bit bad. His attempts were starting to get more and more desperate, and he was starting to lose faith. 

Not to mention, if Xander saw you letting this happen willy-nilly, there’d be a number of reports coming in about Laslow…which would reflect quite poorly on your job performance.

A deal was a deal, but…this was just getting hard to watch.

The clock was closing in on midnight, and the festivities were starting to die down. If somebody out there wasn’t already passed out and drunk on the floor, there were soldiers hobbling together in an attempt to return to camp.

Laslow, in the meantime, was a bit ditsier, a bit clumsier with some alcohol in him, but he was still doing his damndest to get some results.

“Hey, uhh…Laslow?” You stalked up to him, taking a seat at the bar where he seemed to be resigning his victory. “Should we call it that?”

“No!” He protested, “I’ve still got time! The night can go long into the next day. It’s only almost midnight!”

“Shouldn’t we call it, though? Everyone who’s sober enough to show any interest in you is probably gone by now, and the drunk ones will kick your ass if you say the wrong thing.”

“It has happened twice already.” Laslow sighed, rubbing at the red sore on his cheek. You had not witnessed the slap, but you did hear it resonate across the tavern.

“That doesn’t look like it feels good.” You reached up, tentatively touching his face to inspect the wound. Laslow froze up, just slightly, feeling the gentle touch of a woman (it had not happened in a while).

You stared intently at it, frowning when you realized it would likely swell more than already without a little bit of treatment.

“Laslow, I think we ought to call it. You did your best, but I think you’re gonna have to concede on this one.”

“I just don’t know what I did wrong. I’ve tried so hard, yet I cannot seem to woo like my father did.” Laslow sighed, “I leave him a poor legacy.”

“I doubt you wooed your dad. That’d be kind of weird.” You laughed softly, gently stroking his cheek. “Come on, we should head back. We can celebrate my victory over some dessert.”

Laslow leaned into your hand for just a moment longer, and if you weren’t mistaken…your heart might have skipped a beat.

That’s when something shifted.

Laslow’s eyes opened wide, and he grabbed your wrist, trapping you before you could escape him.

“Corrin…you’re blushing.”

“What?”

“You’re blushing, aren’t you?” He leaned in closer, inspecting your face. “You’re blushing!”

“Am not!” You huffed, trying to tug your hand away. “I’m just red from the mead. I’m a little tipsy!” 

“But you were being so tender, checking my wound, and we’re so close together now, and…you’re definitely redder than before.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no, no! Not so fast,” He grinned, moving from your wrist to your hand. He squeezed it gently, slipping from his seat so he might pull you to his chest. “Corrin, are you perhaps…a little bit interested in your friend?”

You glared at him, though it was to be noted that there was little malice to be found. 

“I’m interested in seeing you put a stop to your antics! Just accept your loss so we can go home.”

“Don’t avoid the topic, young lady.” He slipped his arms around your waist, grinning broadly. “You’re the only beauty I haven’t tried to romance tonight. Won’t you at least give me one more chance before you doom me to bachelordom for the rest of my life?”

“I could, but…I don’t see much fun in that.” You rolled your eyes at him, “Besides, won’t that defeat the whole purpose? If you romance me, then you get to go around gallivanting and romancing everyone again!”

“Not if I can actually make it work.” He shook his head, glancing around the emptied tavern. Rather than subject the poor bartender to more secondhand embarrassment, he took your arm and strode from the place, taking you into the moonlit pathway back home.

“What are you proposing?”

“A truce, perhaps?” His suggestion did make you quirk an eyebrow, and you looked up at him, intrigued. He slipped his arm around yours, starting the slow trek home.

“And what exactly would that entail?”

“If I’m able to romance you, and win you over as I was supposed to win over any of those other beauties in that tavern…perhaps I could consider stopping my more frivolous pursuits, in favor of spending a little more time with you?”

“A little more time?”

“Yes. Just with you, exclusively. And in exchange, instead of trying to stop my romantic gestures that would be solely targeted at you, you allow me to continue to win you over.”

“Really? You’d want to drop all that casanova stuff for annoying old me?”

“Something tells me you weren’t just being annoying without a little bit of cause.” Laslow hummed, “In fact, I noticed a little while ago that you seemed to be noticeably aggressive even when I was starting to find some progress with other women.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You huffed, “I don’t care what you do!”

“When it doesn’t work.” He smiled softly, “My goodness, Corrin…if I knew you had such a cute little crush on me, I would have stopped fooling around much sooner! You didn’t have to do this whole backwards thing where you bullied me away from other girls.”

“I didn’t- Xander asked me to- you’re such a-!!” You dissolved into laughter, pushing Laslow away. He chuckled, seeing your bubbly personality shine through your bashfulness at being discovered. 

“But you can’t deny it fully, can you?”

“Maybe I can’t. We’re best friends.” You finally sighed, “And I don’t want to mess that up by trying to court you and then it falls apart. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t hanging out with me every day!”

“I would never stop spending time with you, even if we tried to be in a relationship and it fell apart. Our trust in each other goes much deeper than that. Besides…even if you can be a pest, I can’t imagine that a relationship with you would be anything but exhilarating and fun.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, and crossed your arms. “Really? After all the annoying stuff I’ve done to keep you from messing about, you’d be willing to date me anyways?”

“Of course I would.”

“Even though you think I’m a dorky little brat, who gets in your way all the time even if Xander doesn’t order it?”

“Er, it’s Lord Xander, but I would not change my answer. I think you’re a wonderful person despite how annoying you can be. Besides, it’s not like I can say anything-- you’re someone very important to me, like Odin and Serena. Though, if we’re being honest…I would not be opposed to saying my affection for you goes a little deeper.”

“Ugh…you’re literally just saying that because you found out that I might like you.” You rolled your eyes to brush him off, but he catches your hand again, drawing you back in with a twirl.

“If that were true, I wouldn’t spend everyday with you! Orders or not, we spend far more time together than we do with the others. I think it’s safe to say that we tend to get along quite well…maybe even more than we do with anyone else.”

“Maybe.” You grinned at him, and you continued your trek home, a contemplative air taking hold of the quiet. “Well…I guess…I wouldn’t be opposed to trying a more serious relationship. But if it doesn’t work out-”

“-Don’t even entertain that thought.” He shushed you gently, “Let’s just see where the wind takes us, hm? We’ve come this far together! I wouldn’t risk our time together for anything- know that I’ll trust you and care for you no matter what happens.”

“Careful, Laslow- that’s starting to sound like a proposal!”

Laslow would be quick to dismiss such a notion- after all, you’d only just agreed to try and date him!

But there would be some truth in what you said; within a few months, that dating turned into a deeper, sweeter relationship.

And not long after that, there was a proposal in the air…an engagement ring, followed by a pair of wedding rings, and a massive celebration.

Naturally, Xander was completely baffled when he found the woman he’d tasked with keeping Laslow out of trouble had somehow roped the playboy into marriage.

Your clear happiness and trust in one another kept him from questioning it too much; so long as you were keeping each other safe and clear of mischief, he was happy to consider your mission a success.

At least until you started getting into trouble as a team…then it was a whole new can of wyverns. 

[minhosimthings]

I wanna make something fluffy with Jeongin........and grapes.

Would anyone be interested in reading it?

[with-the-storms-aid]

A Silent Reunion

Warnings: none! Just fluff!

Extra: Hi! Welcome to my first post! This is a short story I created to go with my DND character, Bait, and his husband, William. This is the first drabble I wrote for them and is not where the story will officially begin, but will at least introduce you, slightly, to my characters! I hope you all love them as much as I do!

Word count: 440 words

Bugs chirp in the quiet summer air as a gentle breeze flows throughout the semi-avian city. The night was calm and quiet as a couple finally decided to head to bed. It felt like mere moments since the two found each other yet again, though it had, in reality, been several hours. The two men soon found themselves laying together, as an entanglement of limbs and cloth, on what felt like the most plush mattress in the world. No words were exchanged as honey gold and melted chocolate eyes stared into one another. Bait was never one for words, especially not in situations like this. He always found himself tripping over his own tongue, his brain rushing through the words like an avalanche as his tongue fell into the debris. Yet, this never stopped him from telling William his undying devotion towards him, even if it wasn’t spoken. Dark green hands found their way up to rest against William’s face. Rough, calloused fingers, covered in a myriad of small scars, traced across the pale skin as the two laid there. Bait’s fingers danced across his husband’s narrow features as if he were trying to memorize every divet, every small blemish in case he were to disappear again. He could do this for hours. He could lay there, doing nothing more then caress his husband’s face for days if he was allowed to. Bait saw the man in front of him as his everything. To him, William was nothing but perfection. The universe could not have created a more perfect being then the man who married him. As Bait continued to trace his face, he couldn’t help but imagine himself as the universe, slowly sculpting the narrow face of his own personal god. Suddenly, Bait was brought out of his thoughts as William turned to place a kiss in the palm of his hand. In that second, it was as if his brain short circuited, unsure of how to respond to the action. Twinkling laughter filled the room as the small goblin finally regained his senses. A goofy grin appeared on Bait’s face as he stared at the love of his life. The love of his life that was still here, that was somehow alive. The love of his life that he thought he would never see again, let alone be able to hold. As gold and brown eyes stare into one another with unspoken adoration, a silent agreement was made. They would love one another for the rest of the days they were granted. And they would never be forced apart like that again, not if they could help it.

[omgtheywereroomates]

I’m so sorry this one is late, I made it on the superstar saga anniversary and got busy! Enjoy!

[ayyy-pee]

waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.

so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.

"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."

he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.

"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.

"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.

then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.

nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.

[lostmyremembrall]

a sneak peek👀

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

sometimes katsuki gets really dramatic (but let’s be fr when isn’t he) and acts like you ghosted him when you don’t respond to his texts in thirty minutes. not in a creepy way, just in a dramatic, needy way.

he’s not worried or anything, he checks his phone every few minutes to see if any texts from you have come in. it’s a force of habit, because you usually respond pretty quickly but after a while it gets a little weird. and then he sends you a text and another one and unconsciously he starts spamming you a bit. again, not in a creepy way. just an annoying needy whiny dramatic baby, way.

“what’s up, bakubro ? you keep checking your phone.” katsuki doesn’t look at kirishima, eyes glued to his phone when he just grunts out an “‘m fine.”

and then kaminari just has to open his big mouth. his voice playful as he speaks “uh oh, trouble in paradiseee~?” katsuki scoffs, telling the blonde to fuck off.

and he isn’t worried..not at all. until he thinks about it and maybe there was trouble in paradise ?? were you maybe ignoring him ? what’d he do ?

you look up from your notebook at the sound of your phone vibrating. oh, it’s katsuki ! you smile just seeing his contact pop up.

“hi, katsu !”

silence, no response. you try again.

“…hello ?”

you hear a scoff from the other end, and some shuffling before your boyfriend graces you with an answer. “look at your phone, you idiot.”

“hello, katsu.” you snort. “yeah, yeah. hi.” you can practically hear the roll of his eyes through the phone, you giggle and your boyfriend huffs through the speaker.

it’s then that you see the wall of texts from him “oh, did you text me ? my bad i was studying.”

there’s a faint sigh of relief “‘s fine.”

“were you worried ?” you tease.

“fuck no. just—“ a sudden pause then katsuki grumbles “answer my texts next time, moron. bye. don’t overdo it while studying or i’ll kill you.”

“meanie !” you giggle, and when he hangs up you send him a text.

we can study together next time, just so you don’t flip out again 💗😚

katsuki scoffs a mean laugh, then sends you a middle finger.

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Bau Reader Genre: Romance, humor, angst Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content in later parts Series status: on hiatus

There is one rule you and Spencer agreed on: never talk about the past, especially when that one regretful night strained your friendship. But throw in nosy teammates, an obvious matchmaking scheme, and a never-ending battle of wits—the line between friend and foe starts to blur as you find yourself questioning your true feelings.

a/n: I’m starting a new series after a while and am so excited!! When I found out that the movie ANYONE BUT YOU was based on a William Shakespeare play, I got inspired, so I wanted to do a fun and sexy read for the summer☀️

ACT I - THE BEGINNING

Act I, Scene I: The Silent Agreement

Act I, Scene II: The Crude Suggestion

ACT II - THE PLAN

Act II, Scene I: The Suspicious Scheme

Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea

ACT III - THE DECEPTION

Act III, Scene I: The Fake Dating

Act III, Scene II: The Dangerous Game

Act III, Scene III: The Close Encounter

Act III, Scene IV: The Quiet Morning

Act III, Scene V: The Temporary Bliss

ACT IV - THE TRUTH

Act IV, Scene I: The Unspoken Words

Act IV, Scene II: The Flashback

Act IV, Scene III: The Heartfelt Talk

ACT V - THE END

Act V, Scene I: The Unexpected Surprise

Act V, Scene II: The Happy Start

*please note that the titles may change in the future

I decided there will be no taglist for this, so make sure to check my blog on each date, but I might have to apologize in advance if I don’t stick to the schedule. I’ll still try my best though especially if there are feedbacks, knowing what you guys think of this series would be so nice and would keep me motivated. See you in future updates⁠!!🫶

[nhura]

QUICK NO ONE'S LOOKING

(See readmore for thoughts, cope, bonus, etc.)

Anyone else up thinking about Ratio's big, strong, secure arms and how warm and all-consuming they could be in a hug or embrace. :/ Anyway

I just wanted to draw them being cute and seizing a sliver of a moment where they could have some PDA silly time without actually having any eyes on them. They're public figures and working adults with very clear boundaries between public persona and private life (to varying degrees of "in a sad way"), so while it may be in Aventurine's nature to constantly blur lines for various agendas and self-preservation (read: play "the flirt" without an aligned goal), I believe that in an actual relationship they'd be fairly private.

It's kind of fun to break your own rules, though! Ratio would be more upset about the consequences, though. He's a little bit of a hypocrite, which is devastating for someone of such discipline, but nobody's perfect.

I'm of the mentality of, "If you're tired of working on it, then just post it!", so here are some fun peripherals that I didn't feel like adding:

Some staff in the background sweeping up to evoke a blended sense of fragile privacy and liminal time.

A laptop on the aquarium/bar/counter because there's something fascinating about seeing people on their work laptops in public.

The rest of their clothes (casual friday)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.