#some fluff <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[spillurgvts-a]

open to: f muse: eamon murphy. 25-27. he/him. photographer. heterosexual.  connection: girlfriend, best friend, fwbs, anything of that sort.

"i love you more than anything in the world, you know that?"

[dollyfetti]

"can you just try?" your boyfriend gruffs, his tone gentle as he folds his arms. sitting across from you at a quiet cafe, his fingers lightly caress the back of your hand, sending a flutter through your chest. he's asking you— again— to order for yourself, just this once. he promised, "it'll feel good, trust me," but the thought of speaking up sends a shiver down your spine. you can't even remember the last time you asked for something from anyone.

"yeah, but it's their job to serve you..." he grunted with a tiny chuckle when you'd told him this the last time.

"i know, but i still feel bad..!" you muttered, twisting the hem of your maxi skirt around your fingers. he had grinned, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and let it go.

until now, of course.

he remembers when you were rambling to him one night, frustrated with how you could never speak up for yourself in any situation. you'd felt like a loser. (you are, but he refrained from saying so at the moment hehe)

"just try." he repeats, offering a rare, almost tender smile. you nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips in response. the waitress comes back, notepad in hand as she asks for your orders, starting with your boyfriend.

"mapu tofu— please." he says, closing his menu with a small nod as she takes it from him.

she smiles, turning her attention to you. your gaze drops back to the menu, but it feels like you’re studying it for the first time. “what would you like?” she hums.

"umm," you mumble breathily. you blink at the many food choices, even though you already know what you want.

"i'll have the.. kimbap, please." you speak lowly, your voice quiet and tentative. your hands cling to the fabric of your skirt, shoulders slightly hunched as you unintentionally try to make yourself smaller.

the waitress leans in slightly, smiling sweetly. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

you feel them both watching you and shrivel in your seat. you inhale sharply, looking up to meet the waitress's gaze before quickly looking back down. "kimbap." you repeat, your voice a little steadier now, though your nerves still tangle in your chest.

she nods, jotting it down before walking away, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you can't help but feel a little proud of yourself.

"jesus christ, felt like i was catching your introvertness." your boyfriend teases.

"shut up," you giggle, sliding your drink towards you.

"wasn't so bad, right?"

you shake your head, taking a sip of your drink as if it might help calm your racing heart.

"told ya so." he smirks, nudging your foot with his under the table

bakugou, aizawa, toji, zuko, eren, kuroo, + your favs !

[triona-tribblescore]

Kissy face <3

[justarandomart]

"Maria...do you think I'm dangerous?"

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

WHAT KINDA DOG IS THAT ?! - the werewolf's route ☆ !

cashmoneyyysstuff's big 6K event!!

synopsis : kinda feral, clingy protective and loyal to a fault—the best boy !! and no worries, he don’t bite . . oh shit, yes he do ??!!

things were, in fact, not back to normal. not in the slightest. based on the way kaminari practically hoists you up in the air screaming about your boyfriend the moment you walk out of your room.

you'd woken up on time after yesterday's events. even woken up a little earlier ! expecting your normal routine of having some breakfast with the earlier birds in your class.

except—

frantically, you're being shaken around by the shoulders by kaminari "dude, you've gotta come quick ! your boyfriend's on a rampage !"

"what are you talking about ? what'd you do?" you accuse.

his eyes widened, appalled at your accusation "and why would it be my fault?! a-anyway you gotta come quick, he won't listen to anyone !!" the boy cries, pulling you along by the arm as you stumble to keep up with his steps.

"then what makes you think he'll listen to me ?"

"of course he'll listen to you, you're you ! but if he doesn't then i'm doomed !"

so he did do something then... you internally sigh.

and oh, things had definitely not gone back to normal. if the scene in front of you meant anything.

kirishima, sero and mineta were crouched behind the couch, sero holding a broom in between them and your boyfriend, glaring at them menacingly and growling.

it looked like something was poking out of his head were those...dog..? wolf ears ?

your first thought was that they looked so fluffy. your second one was that yep, this was definitely not the end of the shenanigans.

"i brought her, you guys !" kaminari announced, and you only realised he'd been hiding behind you when you felt the tight grip he had on your shoulders.

the four boys turned your way and kirishima let out a sigh of relief "y/n, dude i'm so glad you're here !" sero sent you a casual wave despite the situation he was in and mineta kept his eyes fixed on the boy ahead of them, legs trembling and basically hiding between sero's legs. with mostly all of their eyes on you, you don't notice how your boyfriend (number three ?) had come to a stop and had simply started staring at you.

"what'd you guys do ?" raising a brow and crossing your arms, shrugging kaminari off in the process, you wait for a response from the three boys who suddenly look very nervous.

kirishima, always honest to a fault, spoke up first "nothing, honest ! we just saw him on the couch and started...messin' with him a bit, y'know like usual !"

"uhuh..." you said suspiciously.

"but y'know we realised he looked a little," he looks over at your boyfriend, (you finally make eye contact and woah, he's looking hard.) more specifically the furry ears poking up from his head, occasionally twitching.

"...different." he settled, sweat-dropping.

"we tried to ask him if something happened like good friends and he tried to attack us !" kaminari shrieked dramatically, you nodded after hearing their recountings.

"sorry for waking you up so early, y/n. we figured he'd chill out if you were around." sero explained bashfully.

kaminari grabs your shoulders again and it snaps you out of the staring contest you were having with the other blonde "please subdue him, dude he said he was gonna eat me !"

"subdue ? i'm a zookeeper now ?" you chuckled. your friend ignored your words, pushing you closer to the beast he still had not moved and staring at you dead on. your only semblance of a warning is his nose twitching before a low growl escaped his throat and he was marching over to you, causing your friend to behind you with a squeak.

you're pulled towards him and away from the other blond before you can think, your boyfriend barely makes eye contact and glares at the boy that was just hiding behind you.

"hey, that's enough." you try to calm him down, and only when you place a hand over the sleeve of the old parka he's wearing does he look at you, he squints at you would be better. and then he's looking away with a huff. quiet ooh's come from the boys in the room with you. except for one.

"get your boyfriend checked for rabies !" you hear mineta shout. unfortunately for him, you couldn't care less if this wolfish katsuki were to use his head as a chew toy, you lean in closer to his twitching ears and though his scowl deepens he leans down to listen to you.

"you can have the little one if you want." you say loud enough for the others to hear. all of them laugh, all the tension in the room dissapearing as the wolf actually plays his part and glares daggers at the little fiend like he was his next meal and mineta tries to get the boys to stop laughing at his torment.

your little moment is then interrupted by none other than katsuki himself, who's face just drops when he sees who you're standing next to. the wolf immediately stiffens at the appearance of a new face, baring his sharp teeth and damn they're really sharp now that you're looking at them.

he's arms drop and he sighs, frustrated "ugh—what the fuck ?!"

you can't help but laugh. well, things hadn't gone back to normal that was for sure, and you're a little ashamed to admit that you were sort of giddy about it.

what's it doing now ?

he's just been looking at me lol

fuckin freak

your boyfriend's response gets a snort out of you. you place your phone down to look in the direction a familiar pair of eyes peeking at you.

currently, you're being stalked.

after another explanation given to your teacher, (who was obviously already tired of seeing you and another clone of your boyfriend in tow as he quickly waved you off) and with your boyfriend about to pop a vein, you were left alone with kat—or should you say, wolfsuki.

(you're the only one left in the dorms to giggle at your terrible joke, unaware that the wolf's ears twitch as he looks at you from afar.)

you’re munching down on your breakfast and his eyes are still on you, they've been on you since getting back from the teacher's lounge, since you started making and eating your food. you wonder if he's even blinked at all.

he'd been surprisingly cooperative—and uncooperative at the same time; wordlessly listening when you asked him to follow you to see your teacher, but also hitting you with a nasty glare and a low snarl. he's willing to do what you ask him as opposed to..literally everyone else. but he will absolutely not let you touch him under any circumstances lest you want your fingers bitten off. you're also not allowed to look at him, but he follows behind you pressed so close to you like an actual guard dog, snapping at everyone who gets in a 10 mile radius so it was sort of a surprise to see he'd disappeared the moment you took your eyes off him.

but, just like with your original katsuki, all you needed was a little patience before he would crack and seek out attention by himself.

and that's exactly wait you do, you wait patiently while you pretend to not hear the ruffling of his tail against the furniture while he sneakily stalks around as you eat, you wonder if it's sort of instinct for him, or maybe this one just wants to actually eat you.

it suddenly feels very warm, you feel him glaring holes into your back—you'd been a bit lost in your thoughts and he was most definitely closer now, taking the opportunity. drawing nearer and nearer, stalking you.

you supposed you should feel intimidated, and your heart is beating fast, but it's definitely not because your scared.

but because this was an opportunity to pet those annoyingly fluffy ears of his ! the dragon was an interesting and frankly enlightening experience to how a different katsuki reacts to certain stimuli (the stimuli being you) and you feel sort of bad about how excited you are to see how this one behaves, especially when you see how distraught your boyfriend has looked for two days now.

and frankly, you really wanna see his tail wagging.

you don't turn around yet, afraid it'd frighten him and ruin your whole plan. instead, you quietly swallow down another bite of your grilled cheese "you can come over here y'know, i don't bite. "

you try to sound as friendly as possible, waving a piece of your toast slightly in the air "i still have some left if you'd like. not too brag but they're pretty—"

you stop dead in your tracks when warm air hits your palm. turning, your eyes meet with twitching (twitching !) fluffy ears; katsuki, now close enough to sniff at the bread in your hands.

"…good."

and he finally looks at you again, you almost freeze, you had just broken at least five of his unspoken rules by now. he looks like he's on high alert again, ready to snap at you should you take the cheesy bread away from him.

you don't of course, in fact you bring it even closer to him with an inviting nod, teasingly bumping it against his nose and seeing how he scowls at his nose at the contact.

so cute.

his fangs are very, very sharp—probably almost as sharp as dragon katsuki's were, he bites down on your grilled cheese sandwich and pulls back, far, veeeeeeeeeery far, trying to get the stringy melted cheese to snap, even going so far as to grab your wrist to stabilise himself. you giggle at his troubles, and he glares, but quickly shoots back to catch the cheese threatens to melt onto his chin, lapping at it.

"good, right ?" you laugh. he doesn't respond, only looks at you and back at your plate of food. there's still one half piece untouched you were planning on eating, but you just can't ignore the way his eyes drift from you to your food and he almost pouts. it's his version of puppy eyes, maybe.

cute, but you've always loved teasing him.

"what do we say when we want something ?" you say in a sing songy voice. he glares at you and his response is a gruff "gimme."

you make a buzzer noise "bzzt, wrong answer." you say calmly as you go back to eating, even turning away from him slightly.

katsuki's low growl should sound like a warning, but the longer you deny him, even going back to eating your grilled cheese, it starts to turn into an annoyed whine. he knocks his head against your harshly before pulling back.

"gimme...please."

and sure, he's grimacing like he wants to rip your guts out, but his little pout and flopped ears make him look less constipated and more endearing.

you can't resist, so you hand it over to him and watch as he gulps it down in practically one go. "good boy !" you praise. he growls and shakes his head "no ?" you tease. "no." he mirrors.

"you're not a good boy ?"

he snarls "not a good boy."

"ah, you're a bad boy then ?" he huffs, puffing his chest out "very bad." he insists. but of course, this katsuki is also a shit liar and if it wasn't his beet red cheeks giving him away, it was most definitely his tail wagging at hyper speed behind him.

ah.

well, that's one thing off your checklist of things you want to see before wolfsuki disappears.

you're so entranced by the way his cheeks puff out you hand him another piece of your sandwich without even thinking, but he growls, shaking his head.

"no."

you're a bit confused. especially because he's not even looking at you and almost looks like he's about to drool at the bread in your hands but even though you insist he's just as stubborn. you realise he's still gripping your wrist when he uses it to bring your hand up until your piece of bread bumps against your nose. he looks back at you only when you look down at your nose.

"eat." he commands firmly. his grip is insistent, slightly rougher than katsuki's (which you would assume is because he's..not exactly human.) and his nails are sharper, almost clawing at your wrist. but you can tell he's being careful. as careful as a beast can be.

you do as he says and he makes sure to watch you intently as you eat. he seems almost entranced like you were with him, bluntly grabbing your cheeks to feel how you chewed (you only found out that's what he wanted when he'd growled at you when you stopped).

once you swallow down another bite, you're hit with a sudden realisation and smile at him. it makes him frown, apprehensive, but his ears flop and he's just so cute you can't help but smile wider somehow.

"hey y'know, you don't talk as much as the other katsuki's do. you're so different when you're quiet. it's not something i'm used to." you wonder out loud. "to be honest, i thought you couldn't speak at all at first.." he scowls at you in confusion, maybe a bit insulted you thought he was unable to talk, but his cheeks turn pink and he looks off to the side. ignoring your words, he urges you to continue eating.

you hum happily once you finish, showing him you were done but he doesn't let you go despite that. even after you swallow, his hands stay against your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. he huffs amusedly when he squeezes you hard enough to make a duck face, but loosens up when you whimper in slight discomfort.

"squishy." he settles. he chuckles

"i'm not a toy." you deadpan.

(he seems to finally find something amusing and of course it has to be messing with you, is every single katsuki a little shit ?)

"squishy like one." he snarks, prodding at poking at your cheeks. you decide to retaliate and go for a double handed cheek squeeze. he flies back like you'd slapped him. "not so fun when the shoe's on the other foot, huh ?" you provoke. he doesn't like your answer obviously, and copies you. he grabs both your cheeks harshly while you're still holding onto his. "stupid human." he sneers.

"ouch ! quit it!" you whine.

"let go." he orders. you shake your head "you let go !" he responds with a grunt and you decide to compromise because you figure it's starting to hurt for both of you now.

"okay...how 'bout we both let go at the same time, okay ?" you widen your arms in warning "alright ?" you urge. you take his grunt as a sign of agreement. "okay... 3, 2, 1.." you slowly release his cheeks and he loosens his grip a moment after you, squints at you like he's really debating it, but ultimately let's go of you. you sigh in relief and rub your cheeks and smile up at katsuki who looks away from you, petulantly huffing and ducking his head away from you.

and well, you'd already broken about fifty five of his unspoken rules, you figured you might as well take a leap of faith.

katsuki's eyes widen when he feels your hands in his hair, you half expect him to snap at you, to bare his teeth and growl and bite. but instead, he subtly tries to lean his head downwards just a little to the right to guide you towards the holy grail; one of his fluffy, twitching wolf ears.

just a little bit of patience; that was all a katsuki needed before he'd seek out attention himself, you smile. "good boy." you praise, simpering. he grumbles, it doesn't sound like one of his warning growls, more like a complaint, a denial maybe ?

"not...not a good boy." he stumbles, blinking tiredly. unbeknownst to him, or maybe his instincts had just fully taken control. he ducks his head even harder into you, digging into your palm insisting you scratch exactly where he wanted. you want to see if he's still sensitive in the same spot as your katsuki is. you're proven correct when he lets out a lows rumble once your fingers reach the back of his nape.

"right yeah. very bad boy, right ?" you grin. he growls at you.

after your little tender moment, his path to prodding continues. he prods at your clothes, your ears and your hair and he cannot leave your fingers alone. you can't even do the dishes because he's pulling your hand towards him at any move you make, poking and placing them how he wants like those little wooden mannequins you see in stores.

you'd learned to deal with it after he'd been at it for 30 minutes, you're sitting on the couch now, trying your best to respond to your friends texts asking you how you'd been doing with the feral bakugou, said bakugou still sniffing around at your fingers when—

"WOAH!"

the fucker had bit your hand, and it actually stung. you reflexively try to pull your hand out of his mouth but he takes it as a challenge and growls as he glares, urging you to try and pull his new toy away. did the bastard actually think you were a chew toy ?!

"katsuki, no !" you try, slowly going towards his mouth to pull him away, his head snaps back and when his grip loosens and you manage to rip your hand out of his jaw you bring your hand towards you. aka, away from him and he's obviously pissed as he leans towards you.

"no, bad ! no biting !" a growl is all you get as warning before he's pouncing on you and you're being chased around the dorm building by your wolfish boyfriend.

"ow..." you whine for the umpteenth time. katsuki looks nothing but pleased, pretending like he hadn't heard you as he continues teething at your fingers.

you'd tried quite literally everything to shake him off; whenever you'd lock yourself in the bathroom or your room or anywhere with a lock he'd whine and growl against the door till you let him in; when he'd made his way inside you dorm room his eyes widened before he started making a mess and smelling everything. you had been a bit flattered that he liked your smell so much but you had to pull him out of the room when he started trying to eat your socks.

"ouch !" you yip, this time when you sigh katsuki's eyes fly up to you in surprise, kinda like when puppies realise they took play fighting too far. he almost looks guilty as his ears drop.

"look, you can't just do that, it hurts." you explain. his face drops as you continue and his eyebrows furrow harder, he never liked getting scolded after all. cheeks turning pink he places your hand on top of his head and nudges it. your heart skips despite yourself.

your fingers act before your mind and they curl in his hair. he juts his neck out to you, signalling you to keep going and you greedily reach up to pet his ears again. might as well enjoy this while you could, right ? technically, it was retribution for the what your fingers had to endure for the entire day.

you think you could die happy right in that moment, if zeus decided to strike you down right here and now, you'd welcome it with open arms.

katsuki chases your hand a bit when you pull away. he looks a little sleepy again as he looks at you. his head slumps into your shoulder and he leans up to sniff and lick your cheek and bite into it, a bit softer. as soft as a beasts jaw can be.

his ears perk up when you giggle, and he takes it as a sign to do it again. until he topples you over and decides he likes it that way, no matter how hard you try to push at him. he growls at you, but it sounds sleepy and drained, he's most definitely sleepy now, so you decide to let it go with a defeated sigh.

"you really are a big puppy, huh ?" he answers you with another growl and a sleepy warning "not a puppy.."

you giggle "oh, but you are. big, spoiled puppy." it obviously irritates him that you're not taking him serious but besides pushing his weight onto you some more he says nothing.

you're feeling a little greedy and go back to petting his ears, slowly running over them to see them twitch "besides the ears, and the fact you're so quiet, you and my katsuki are basically just the same."

his ears perking up makes you jump, he lifts his head up with a fang poking out "your katsuki is me. i'm better." he warns.

where had you heard this before ?

"gosh, you guys really are all the same it's crazy..." you wonder out loud, katsuki nudges at your hand and you quickly apologise before continuing to pet him.

a grunt. "i'm better."

"sure you are." you soothe. and he rewards your agreement by turning to face you and leaning up to lick your cheek. his warm arms wrap around you and he's squeezing, a bit hard but you don't mind because he softens his hold just for you, as much as a beast can.

"we sleep. and you don't move," his fingers dig into you. "you stay here."

of course, this katsuki doesn't know how to ask for cuddles either, you laugh and run one of your hands on his back "aye aye, captain."

happy with your response, he nudges his nose onto your collarbone "mine." he says to himself and it makes you shiver.

"mine..my mate.."

and he's out like a light, damn him.

of course, katsuki always had a way of saying the most endearing shit and brushing you off or pretending like he didn't hear you when you ask him, and it seemed this one was no different. though as you look at him sleep, you feel at peace, almost beside your heart drumming against your chest.

you can't help but wonder if this was the end of it, if there was more to come. or if how long this would last exactly.

oh well, you probably had plenty of time to think about that later. your eyes feel heavier and heavier and you fall asleep lulled by the sound of katsuki's breathing and occasional mumbling.

you wake up still warm but looking up at a katsuki this time. your boyfriend.

your sleepy groan catches your boyfriend's attention and your ears starts picking up on your classmates chatter. ah, so classes were over.

"you awake yet ?" your boyfriend speaks, quieter than he usually would to not startle you too much. as quiet as...well, a katsuki can.

you hum, going to rub at your eyes until you realise your arm hangs limply in the air.

oh, katsuki's carrying you.

you kick your feet slightly as giddiness overtakes you "where's katsuki ?" you ask. of course, you know it's a bit of a loaded question and he won't like your phrasing. and by the looks of his pinched brows and scowl, he doesn't. at all.

"don't piss me off." he scoffs and you laugh, tucking your head into him "really missing when you were asleep and fuckin' quiet..." he mumbles.

he grunts when you giggle sleepily to yourself before answering your question “guess he fucked back off to where he came from, found you passed out on the couch. fucker must’ve done a number on ya.” he explains.

you hum in response “you have no idea..”

katsuki eyes you suspiciously “what’d he do ? wasn’t he just sitting there starin’ at ya ?”

“for the most part, but then you just kept trying to bite me, half expected you to try and eat me.”

katsuki’s eyes widen to the size of saucers “what the fuck ? and stop saying it like i did that ! don’t lump me in with that thing, dickhead !”

you laugh, snorting into his chest, you feel how he huffs in frustration. you sigh "besides that, you were a really good boy. for the most part."

an awkward sound stays clogged into his throat and then he's quiet, too quiet for a long while. then he scoffs, you feel it almost reverberate against you. his fingers dig into your shoulder in reprimand. "s-shut up, stop saying weird shit..."

katsuki makes sure to keep his eyes straight ahead when he feels you look up at him, but you see his ear stained red.

“just so you know, this shit isn’t happening again. if i see another one of those bastards i’ll blast him to hell. and you,” he squeezes the bottom of your thigh ripping a surprised noise from you “you’re staying in my dorm tomorrow and we’re gonna study, gonna beat all the shit you missed into your skull if i have to.”

“i’m looking forward to it.” you yawn, unbothered as you prepare to fall right back asleep despite your boyfriend warning you not to.

when katsuki gets you to your bedroom, he's surprisingly sweet when he lays you down your bed and while you're wiggling to get comfy you look up to see him fiddling awkwardly with hands at his sides, you raise a brow at how he glances around, unsure.

you can't ask him what's wrong before he groans at the sky, leans down and chomps onto your cheek.

you stiffen a bit in surprise, your entire body heats up before your thoughts can catch up. he leans back up, eyebrows furrowed like he's angry and you know he's blushing despite the darkness in the room.

"if anybody's supposed to be bitin' you 's me..i'm your boyfriend...don't forget it." he mumbles the last part of his sentence quieter before he makes his way out and he offers you a quick "g'night." with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you wait until you're sure he's gone far enough to grab your pillow and squeal into it. it takes you longer to fall asleep as you wiggle and shake around like a worm. but you manage when you remember and dream about the feeling of the fluffiness of a certain hybrid's ears.

taglist ! ( if your name is in bold i couldn't tag u :< )

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[eraserbread]

growing old with kento pls🥺🥺

for your twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, kento got you a cat, a kitten, to be exact -- golden, like him, hazel eyes like him. he's your baby, taking over that space in your home that your daughter's move back to tokyo brought out.

just like he always wanted, kento retired early in malaysia, and tokyo's where your daughter chose to stay. school in the city was far more riveting than stewing away in a beachside cottage. and alone for the first time again in nineteen years, you had love to celebrate.

so, he hands you that little purring kitten as soon as you stumble out of bed, smiling at the gentle coos you're giving. looking at you in the rising sun reminds him of how you'd dote over your young daughter twenty years ago. he's always loved you, but seeing your motherhood bloom and grow out of you made him obsessed.

"awh, kento." you're pouting, holding the kitten to your heart. you're in a shorter nightgown, cut above the knees he leans down and closes his hands over. for a fifty-year-old man, that mobility has never gotten lost. in fact, you think he looks the best he's ever have -- greyed roots, shaved stubble, fine lines. so familiar.

"happy twenty-fifth." he replies, kissing over your knee. "been with you longer than I've been alone, now. our marriage's brain is finally fully developed."

"you're such a dad." you scoff, lovingly. "it's a boy? I'm gonna name him kento."

"don't. that's not a very creative name." he stands with a grunt, leaning towards to kiss your lips. little kitty purring between your chests, he lingers.

the only thing you got him for twenty-five years together was his steaming bowl of char kway teow he's hunching over as you head through a night market. you were supposed to be sharing, but you'll let him have it. you can taste the umami on his lips when he kisses you, and that's enough.

the nights gone on in street food carbs, and drowned-out music. scooters whiz past you in the dusty streets, and kento keeps his arm strong around your shoulders, staking that lifelong claim in physicality.

always, you end up by the beach, lying out on plush lounge chairs. you're resting on his chest, heartbeat backing the rush of the waves and the pulse of the fire-dancers in front of you, lighting up the sand. you haven't touched alcohol all night, neither has he, but his sound has you nodding off. you trail your settled-in hands across his homey chest, pressing the tips of your nails into his clothed flesh.

you can feel him shiver, then whisper, "tickles."

then, for that thirty-eighth anniversary, your husband, grey and in his sixties, wakes you up with kisses to the neck. windows open, an early-morning sea breeze rushing through the bedroom, you stir to life and savor the touch.

"i have loved you for forty years. can you believe it?" he mutters, keeping his lips pressed to your skin. "and I still want you like it's the first."

you're smiling into the sheets, still so susceptible to his charms in your older years. he knows you inside and out, upside and down. at this point in life, he is you.

at the foot of the bed, poor old little yuji, your thirteen-year-old ginger cat purrs in sleep. kento's rustling makes him flick an ear, but the old boy is far too comfortable to move.

for year thirty-eight, you made him his favorite breakfast and served it to him as he sits on the balcony with a book in his lap. kento's come to wear glasses, thin-framed ones that hang on the edge of his nose as he grumbles at words.

it's all he lives for now, western poetry, wife handling, and cleaning up after a rowdy cat. every night like clockwork, he calls his daughter in tokyo -- sometimes she doesn't answer, but most of the time she does. for hours, or just as long as she allows, she goes on and on about her life, the woman she's seeing, the home she's buying, and the job she's loving.

kento listens with every ounce of his soul just like he listens to his words, and you, and the sound of the warm langkawi breeze as it hits his face.

out here in the seclusion, there aren't any curses -- no angst. all that matters is the life he's hand-picked, thoughtful to the core.

and that night, his final gift is a sweater you sewed for him, and you. sandy hands, warm cheeks -- you present your naked body to him in the night, letting the full moon guide him right to where he knows to touch.

age is just experience. it's been thirty-eight years of memorizing each other's bodies - intimacy is like oxygen. he reaches for the canyon between your thighs on your secluded, beachside balcony, swallowing the sound of his name like he has for a lifetime.

like clockwork, every single time this starts, he whispers between your lips, "I love you."

and you whisper back, "i love you, too."

[katsukistofu]

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. ⭑ no feeling self-conscious on his watch.

Katsuki scowls from above you from where your head rests on his lap when he sees your fingers pinch at the screen of your phone again. “Stop doing that.”

You blink at him in confusion with your finger hovering in midair. “Doing… what?”

“You think I’m stupid?” He lets out a scoff, not unkindly. “I see you. Zooming in and out of your pictures.”

Damn. He really saw that? You swear you put the brightness all the way down too. “I’m not.”

You shiver as the feeling of familiar, soft lips softly brush against your ear.

“Don’t lie to me.”

He snatches your phone out of your hands and you let out a little whine of protest, to which he silences with a pinch of your cheek between his fingers. And pinching hard.

“Ow, ow, ow—what the hell Suki!” You pout. “That hurts.”

“Good.” Your disgruntled boyfriend grumbles, using his thumb to hold down a button, and you spot the familiar symbol on the screen signaling that your phone is about to power off. “Now you know how I feel like watching you. You look fine.”

“Just fine?” You tease with a cheeky smile.

“You know what I mean.”

“I think I need a little more elaboration.”

“Stupid.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You always look fucking perfect, okay?”

“I do?”

“You do. So I better not see you doing that shit again.” His firm thigh shifts from beneath your head and he makes sure its supported by sliding the cushion his back was resting on under it before he starts getting up, snorting at your cute pout at the sudden loss of your favorite pillow.

"Where are you goinggg?"

"To the konbini, dumbass. Yesterday you said your snacks were running out.” Katsuki tugs you to stand with him and you flail a bit, kicking your legs.

"Wha— Katsuki wait! I can't go out looking like this."

Katsuki observes you for a moment, and when you shyly meet his eyes his gaze softens. You look flawless to him, messy hair, eyebags and all.

But he knows you value your appearance. Doesn’t think vain or silly to want to look like the best version of yourself.

Whatever makes you happy works for him, and he’s happy too.

"Fine. You've got ten minutes."

The fierce blush on Katsuki’s face rivals the color of his eyes as you plant a big kiss on his cheek.

[yois2aki]

it started as a casual afternoon, just errands and wandering through the city. caleb carried both your iced drinks and trailed after you as you drifted into a boutique tucked between a bookstore and a bakery. he hadn’t expected you to pause by the pastel display near the front, but when you did, he noticed the subtle change in your face.

the dress was soft pink, with delicate lace on the sleeves and a ribbon tie at the back, simple, but it looked like something that belonged in a scene from your favorite shoujo anime. you reached out and touched the fabric lightly, lips parting just a bit.

“you like it?” caleb asked, stepping beside you.

you nodded, cheeks warming. “it's cute. right?”

he gave a small smile. “yeah… it’s really you.”

you held it up to yourself in the mirror for a second, a quiet spark of excitement lighting up you face. then, gently, you peeked at the price tag. your shoulders sank almost immediately.

“yikes,” you murmured. “never mind.”

before he could say anything, you carefully put it back on the rack, brushing the fabric smooth. “it's okay. i was just looking.”

caleb watched you for a beat. you were already turning to the next display, pretending to be interested in the stack of cardigans, but he could tell you still wanted the dress.

he didn’t say anything right away. just made a quiet mental note.

when you left the boutique, he brought up something random to make you smile again. a dumb story from basketball practice, a comment about someone’s dog in a sweater outside... and you softened, distracted for now.

later that week, you'd find a small box waiting for you in your bedroom. no note. no explanation. just carefully folded fabric, soft pink lace, and a ribbon tie at the back.

[shouyuus]

vi loves it so much when you play with her hair -- the ends are getting long, but she knows you like it so she hasn't brought up trying to get it cut. she loves the way your fingers feel, twisting through the roughly dyed ends (though the darkened tips are slowly washing out, with every subsequent shower and rinse), the way you absently tug on them when you're talking to her, about everything, about anything.

she grins, her whole body slouched between your legs as you run her ends through your hands over and over and over.

"hm?" you pause, even as she readjusts to fit more snuggly against you.

she shakes her head, peering over her should to slate you a smile.

"nothing, sweetness -- keep on doing what you're doing."

you laugh, resuming the movement.

"but like i was saying -- it was all so random, but i thought --"

she lets your voice wash over her like the sweet lull of the tide, the warm kiss of water at her toes, the soft sink of her limbs into the sand. and she's never been to the ocean, but she thinks that this must be what it feels like to be held by it --

to know that whether she decides to sink or float, you'd still be there to catch her, to hold her, and that if she were to close her eyes and let herself go, the taste of your lips will still be just as sweet under water.

[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.

[yuviur]

Summer vacation, 4am.

Tons of easter eggs in this one! Click the image to find them (and for better quality ofc)

Close ups and process shots under the cut, description in alt text

[anonymouscheeses]

Gimme them gimme them dope and diamonds

Diet Mountain Dew, baby, New York city

Never was there ever a girl so pretty

Do you think we'll be in love forever?

Do you think we'll be in love...?

[ageofstarkey]

soft glow ✰ m. riddle

summary: sleepy mornings with matthéo

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but nothing really other than that!! just tooth rotting fluff n théo who’s soft for u and no one else!! :’))

note: hi!! i’m not sure how i feel about this one but i still think it’s a lil tiny bit cute so i’m posting!! feel free to send in requests!!

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated! <3

✰ ✰ ✰

when you wake up, matthéo’s bedroom is warm with the soft glow of morning. golden rays of sunlight peek stubbornly through his drapes, and soft white noise filters steadily in through the window.

as you slowly come to, you begin to register the familiar sensation of matthéo’s touch. his calloused fingers glide almost curiously across your face; carefully tracing each curve and dip, as if to memorize your every detail.

with a soft hum, you finally blink open your eyes - squinting into the sunlight. you roll towards matthéo with a yawn, offering him a sleepy smile. “hi”

matthéo grins, smoothing a mess of tangled hair away from your face. “hi, darling.” his voice is raspy and painfully fond - and your heart aches pleasantly behind your ribcage. his hand slides casually to the back of your neck, and you quietly hope that your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “how’d you sleep?”

“me? oh - i slept terribly” you’re aiming for deadpan in a desperate attempt to play it cool, but you wear a giddy little grin that almost certainly gives you away. “worst sleep of my life.”

“oh yeah?”

you nod with all the conviction you can muster - which admittedly isn’t much. “mhmm” with a little stretch, you’re leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. “you snore louder than my granddad.”

matthéo scoffs in mock offence, fingers poking teasingly at your side. “‘s that so?”

you nod once more, trying desperately to stifle a giggle. matthéo’s teasing is relentless, and you squirm clumsily away from his prodding fingers. in the end - it doesn’t take long for you to give in. “okay! okay - fine!” you laugh breathlessly. “you don’t snore and i had the best sleep of my life. is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes actually. because you on the other hand - you do snore and it’s really quite loud - sort of like-”

“matthéo!” he’s being mean on purpose and you pretend to hate it. “i do not snore!”

“okay but how do you know you don’t snore, hm? i mean - if you’re asleep when it happens…” he tugs you towards his bare chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your back. “you wouldn’t really know, would you?” he punctuates his words with a soft kiss to your forehead, and you all but melt into his gentle embrace.

“i hate you.” with your face smushed against matthéo’s chest, your words come out awkward and muffled. “like - i really, really can’t stand you sometimes.”

he tugs you impossibly closer with a pleased laugh. “don’t lie, sweetheart”

“i’m not lying!”

he tilts your head upwards before slowly kissing your lips. you feel warm all over, and you chase him with a quiet whine when he pulls away. “if you really hate me, why were you screaming m-”

“you’re so awful!”

[mediumgayitalian]

When Lee and Michael pull him from Chiron's exceptionally dry Ancient Greek lessons, Will is excited. When they drag him down, ducking, behind the stables, as other campers walk by, he is intrigued. When they guide him all the way back to their cabin, sit him on his bed, and then drag two stools to sit across from him, silently, he is still excited.

A little nervous, now.

But excited.

"Will," Michael says, solemn. He presses his fist to his mouth, eyes carefully blank. "Will, you are almost ten years old, now."

Will bounces on his mattress, grinning. "Yeah! I'm nine and fifty-six seventy-thirds." He peers at his brothers hopefully, trying to lessen his fidgeting and appear Regal and Adult. "Am I getting my Dad present early?"

Gods, he hopes so. He has been counting down the days -- every tenth birthday, for every kid, Camp-bound or not, Apollo sends them a gift of gold jewelry, smelted in the heat of the Sun by Holy Hephaestus, jewels handcrafted by the finest artisans on Olympus, blessed by yours truly. Will has been watching in seething jealousy as Michael's signet ring glints every time he pulls back his bow, as Cass' hoops swing when she walks. He hopes the gift is earrings -- he finally convinced Michael to pierce his lobes a couple months ago, and he's tired of the ugly studs. Beckendorf made him promise to let him poke around at whatever Will gets, and Will has been itching to show him.

And to get the jewelry, obviously. That's priority number one.

Lee shakes his head slowly. "No. You will get your milestone when you get it." He exchanges a long, fearful look with Michael. Will picks at last summer's clay bead, with the trident on it. "Speaking of milestones…"

Michael makes a sudden, choked noise, covering his face with his hands and curling forward. Will startles. Lee sighs, looking down for a moment as well. When he looks up again, he meets Will's wide eyes with his teary ones, and places a supportive hand on Michael's back.

"Will…" he looks out to the open window, shaking his head slightly. When he looks back, his face is creased in apology, and his eyes are ringed with pity. Will feels his heart drop. "Have you chosen someone, yet?"

"Chosen?" Will straightens, fists twisting in his shorts. "Chosen someone for what?" Michael makes another strangled wailing noise. Will's breath hitches, and his ears white out. "Lee, tell me! Tell me now!"

"We are a Greek camp," Lee says, finally. "An ancient Greek camp. With ancient Greek customs, kiddo."

He says it softly, apologetically. Like the time a seagull swooped down and stole Will's ice cream, right from his hands, on the beach last week. Will recognizes the hopeless tone of his voice and his heart drops.

"How much did they tell you about…our customs?"

"I didn't listen to the admissions video!" Will confesses, panicked. "I'm sorry! It was so boring! There were a bajillion music numbers and they were all kind of bad no offense and the screen made my eyes hurt and I missed my mom and --"

"Will," Michael says, voice shaking. He meets Will's eyes and Will is horrified to see they are wet.

He has never seen Michael cry before -- not even once.

"It's okay, Will. Some people don't know."

"Tell me," Will begs. "Am I being sacrificed?"

To his great relief, both his brothers laugh, waving dismissive hands as they chuckle. Will sags into his pillows.

"Oh, no, gods no. That would be barbaric." Lee wipes a tear from his eyes. "C'mon, Will, we're a little more civilized than that." He smiles encouragingly. Will smiles, hesitantly, back. "You're getting married."

It takes a long enough moment for the sound to travel and the word to register that Will is sure his hearing aids have gone wonky. He taps them, as though it will do anything, and tilts his head.

"I didn't hear you right. What did you say?"

"Married," Michael repeats. "By age 10, like all people had to do back then." He and Lee exchange another weighted look. "That, or you have to marry Mr. D." He rushes to assure at Will's panicked shriek; "Only if you don't choose someone in time. You have until you turn ten, so don't worry. I'm sure you'll find someone in time. You'll have most of the summer, anyway."

There is a moment where Lee and Michael murmur to each other, nodding. "Yeah," Lee says, mostly to himself. "You'll be fine." To which Michael responds: "Of course, of course. I mean, we did it."

Will sits there, frozen.

"I can't get married!" he cries, coming back to himself. He begins to hyperventilate. "I'm -- nine! I'm a kid!" He looks to his older brothers, blue eyes big and watery. "I don't even know how to file my taxes yet!"

Lee and Michael are sympathetic. They move forward, immediately, one on either side of him; Lee slides a squeezing hand around his shoulders, Michael pats him on the leg.

"It'll be fine, squirt," Lee soothes. He gestures across them. "I mean, me and Michael found somebody. It all worked out."

"You're married?" Will chokes out. His breaths come quick and shallow, despite Lee's comforting hand. "Michael is married?!"

"Watch it, twerp," Michael warns, at the same time as Lee says: "It was a challenge and a half, but yeah, Michael is married."

Will glances quickly down. There is no ring on either of their left hands, but they must notice him looking, because Michael snorts, pinching him on the knee.

"We just told you it's an ancient Greek custom, dumbass. Rings were invented later. We just…" He makes an incomprehensible gesture with his ringless hand. "Followed the book, completed the rite, etc, etc. Boom. Matrimony."

Lee nods. He rubs Will's shoulder a final time, encouragingly, before pulling away enough to give him space to breathe.

"You'll find someone, Will. We just thought we'd warn you because it didn't look like you remembered yourself, and we don't want you to have to…well."

Will shudders. Vaguely, in the back of his blurry, blurry memory, he can recall someone saying something in a video somewhere about partners and their importance in Camp. He had not paid attention, and he curses himself for it, now -- he almost had to marry Mr. D. Mr. D. who is rude, who smells like vinegar, who always has something in his teeth, who sleeps all day and drools more than a waterfall, who scares the satyrs on purpose and never even says sorry. Who is mean and gross and the worst ever.

"Thank you," Will says, tearfully. He grips his brothers' hands in his small fists and shakes from his spot between them, almost-life flashing in front of his eyes. If his brothers hadn't warned him, Mr. D. would have made him rub his stinking feet and feed him grapes for all eternity for sure. There wouldn't even be breaks for episodes of Star Trek. He shudders. "Thank you."

His brothers return the half-hug, although Michal sighs about it. He is too short to see the smirks they flash above his head.

"Anytime, twerp."

-- -- --

next

[cameronsbabydoll]

no cause scc!reader probably when her kids are older she starts like a cute etsy business and her kids help her and she’s so proud of herself and scc!rafe sees it and he sorta takes over trying to get people to invest and she’s just like “rafe is an etsy business”… here’s how it goes (ib: @rafeslittlepup)

she’s just trying to make her little handmade things—hair bows, custom recipe cards, vintage-inspired aprons—and she’s so proud of it, shipping them off in pink bubble mailers with dried flower confetti and hand-written thank you notes. it’s her soft little world, her cute side thing now that the house is quieter and the kids are older.

she’s working out of the sunroom, tea steaming beside her, favorite candle lit, typing out Etsy captions like:

“perfect for slow mornings 🌸 handmade with love 💌”

and the kids help her take pictures, package orders, even run the post office errands. her daughter helps her with aesthetic reels, her eldest son built her a little website (“just in case it blows up, mom”), and the baby boy makes stickers that say “made with love by mom.”

but then scc!rafe finds out it’s doing numbers.

and suddenly he’s pacing in the living room shirtless with glasses on, saying things like:

“you know if we brand this right we could scale. licensing deals, bulk production—baby, you’re sitting on a goldmine.”

and she’s just like 🧍‍♀️ sipping her iced matcha like

“rafe. it’s an etsy shop.”

and he doesn’t get it.

he’s running numbers, calling his lawyer, half-joking about putting it under a shell corp. meanwhile she’s just trying to make crochet mug sleeves for fall 😭

but deep down?? he’s so proud of her.

he orders from her shop using a fake name just to leave 5-star reviews.

he makes their daughter wear the bows out in public.

he gets a little shelf made for her “office” and calls it “headquarters.”

and when she hits her 1,000th sale he buys her 1,000 flowers and says,

“not bad for a housewife.”

with a smirk.

but then kisses her forehead like she just closed a million-dollar deal.

[pitifulwolves]

Okay so.

What if Logan had a nightmare episode where he wakes up all claws out and stabbing Wade in the chest.

What if he forgot that Wade can’t die from that?

What if Wade didn’t wake up straight away and Logan panicked thinking he’d killed another partner?

But when Wade wakes up, very much not dead, more just huffy that one of his stupid novelty shirts got ripped than anything, and Logan just has to hold him for a little.

Wade kinda realises after this happens more than once of why Logan panics, and so after a few recurring incidents, Wade comforts him, reminds Logan that he’s okay, that he’s still there no matter how many times he gets skewered.

I dunno I think the angsty fluffy potential of that is good