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#fluff idea
gt-daboss · 6 months
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FLUFFY Relationships in GT (spice)
(teeeny bit spicy) Last week I gave rations to the angst crowd, today the fluff army gets their fair share: Yall know that TV trope where the one character prepares the room for their lover so that when their lover finally comes to the room to sleep, they are greeted by roses and candles and smoooooth jazz that gets the soul going right (I'm specifically speaking of that one Avatar scene)? Ok ok so now imagine that, but a tiny trys to impress their giant partner, Roses, candles, sweet scents, only it doesnt go exaaactly as expected...
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YEAH I SAID IT: All you tinies in the GT community, yall are LACKING in the game department, negative rizz and its honestly been on the decline lately... pretty soon yall wont just be able to rely on the fact that you are 2 in' tall and therefore are OBJECTIVELY the cutest thing in the entire universe anymore. Welcome to the real world cupcake.
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sizeshifterdonnie · 5 days
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Another Idea I made moths ago!
So imagine little tiny’s that are soft and squishy like marshmallows, and some have white skin tones like a marshmallow and they wear clothes that are white or very light colors, and once and a while magical flowers will sprout little baby marshamallow tinys and they get adopted instantly once there born. They can reproduce with a partner but the flower is very sacred to them, and it can be usfull for marshmallow tinys who can’t have babies or who want a baby that bad. They can also not get hurt by getting squished, they also do little purr sounds
yes this is based off Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 2
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novelbear · 3 months
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the sweet, early morning things ☀️
prompt list by @novelbear
"good morning, love."
sleepy, playful smiles as they both take in eachothers messy morning appearance
"you look your cutest like this." "but i just woke up." "i know what i said."
snuggling into the others neck to shield their eyes from the sunlight
gently brushing hair out of their face
peppering small kisses all over their face to wake them
"your morning voice is so hot." [laughs] "what?"
waking up a little earlier than usual, meaning they get the luxury of snuggling further into their blankets and lover to go back to sleep.
kisses, even while still half-asleep
"are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry."
accidentally falling back asleep, too entangled and comfortable in one another's warmth.
"i'll go make us coffee." "sounds good."
"i made breakfast." "i love you."
caressing the other's cheek softly, hoping to wake them up that way
"waking up next to you is my favorite thing."
sitting in a comfortable silence, arms wrapped around eachother, trying to wake up.
gently fixing their hair once they finally sit up
taking ten minutes to stop snuggling while laying down, then spend another ten cuddling whilst sitting up.
playfully shying away from them because of their "morning breath"
noticing the indented marks left on their face from the pillow or however they were laying
^ "did you sleep well?" "mhm.." [tracing the mark with their hand] "i can tell."
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thepromptswhisperer · 4 months
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"You're blushing." Prompts
“You’re blushing.” “Yeah, so? Never seen anyone fall for your charm before?”
“Are you okay? You look a little…” “I’m fine!”
A tries to hide their blush from B by turning their head away, but the latter doesn’t let them.
“I can’t help it (when you look at me like that).”
“Are you actually blushing?” “No! Shut up.”
“You, uhh… You… Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you… I mean…”
A smiles fondly when B starts to blush and draws them closer, allowing them to hide in their embrace.
“Awww. Did I fluster you?”
“This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…”
It appears A made B blush, and in response their own cheeks heat up.
“Stoooop. Stop making me all…” “All… what?”
“Just admit that…” (e.g. you like when I look at you like that.)
A has never blushed when they asked that question/made such a comment before. (Before what?/Has something changed?)
“… You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”
A touches their own heated cheeks (, maybe to confirm that they really are blushing. Not that they didn’t already know.)
“Why am I blushing?!”
A and B try to figure out who can make the other person blush first/the hardest.
“I call bullshit. There’s no way you never blush. No way.”
“Months/Years later, and you still make me blush.”
“I’m not blushing. It’s from the cold.” “Yeah. Sure.”
“Sorry. I just... like seeing that I have an effect on you, I guess.”
“God. You look adorable/etc. (when you’re blushing).”
A is curious/confused/etc. Once, they easily were able to make B blush. Nowadays, it seems almost impossible.
“You’re blushing.” “So are you.”
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euthymiaaa · 4 months
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— subtle physical affection prompts 𓆩♡𓆪
i hope everyone is having a great new year so far! enjoy :D
pushing strands of their hair out of their face
brushing the dust of their clothes
wiping off a food stain near their lips (bonus: you lick it off your fingers)
briefly tracing the lines of their palms
patiently helping them put their shoes on
teasingly playing with the string of their hoodie
nose boops
comparing hand sizes
accidentally grazing their hands as both of you are reaching for the same object
gentle massages for their shoulders
delicately putting your hand on their back
playful stabs with your fingers onto the side of their waist
ever so light forehead pecks
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youneedsomeprompts · 4 months
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~ OBLIVIOUS PINING ~ PROMPTS about denial of feelings
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requested by: anonymous request: how can i resolve very heavy denial of feelings? it doesn’t feel organic to just have a “oh crap, i like them” moment for this specific character
Feel free to use and reblog!
changing their behaviour towards the other person before they realise their own feelings
doing something nice for the other impulsively
growing softer in their attitude towards the other
finding themselves daydreaming about the other
being annoyed by how much the other occupies their thoughts/their daily life
realising certain single traits of the other they like/adore
being in the other's debt, so they can't hate them so much anymore, they 'have to' like them at least a little
getting flustered when the other is nice to them
realising they're feeling much better when they know that the other is happy
enjoying making the other smile
^ and being worried afterwards about these new strange sensations towards the other's happiness
*eye-rolling* "Well, I guess I can do that for you."
feeling bad when they're treating the other shitty
feeling bad when they're ignoring the other
telling themselves that they can be nice without that having to mean they like the other (that's totally normal, right? to give someone a gift and it doesn't mean anything)
A talking to C about B: "Yes, we're getting along better now. But I mean, it's normal, right? To do nice things, even though you weren't on good terms just a week ago. People change. Relationships change. But that doesn't mean we like each other, alright?"
spending hours wondering who the other actually is and what they mean to them
"Nothing has changed." *when in fact, everything has changed*
"It has always been like this." *when in fact, they're losing their mind about not seeing sooner how it has actually been*
"Come on, it can't come as a big surprise to you." *when in fact, it's the biggest surprise to themselves*
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snuffydoo · 5 months
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Flirting????
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isjasz · 7 months
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[Day 96]
Together they become GUY!!
(Context: On the stream yesterday they were joking about just combining into one player for decked out LOL)
(And Hermittober: Day 1 Frost ❄️)
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me-writes-prompts · 6 months
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Romantic/soft prompts:
By @me-writes-prompts
Sickfic prompts
'Affectionate gestures that have me going feral' prompts
Cuddling prompts
'Adorable things couples do that have me feeling single af' prompts
Sweet caring prompts
Sickfic prompts 2
"I've had a really rough day and I need you to make it better" otp soft prompts
Cute smile prompts
Fluff prompts
"You're so cute when you…" prompts
Lazy morning prompts
Late night prompts
Embarrassing first meet prompts
Domestic fluff prompts
Kisses prompts:
By @me-writes-prompts
Kissing prompts
First kiss prompts
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keyotosprompts · 28 days
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you're the thoughts that can't be tamed ⊹₊。ꕤ
some ways to build tension
⇴ holding person b's hand longer than usual, just because person a craves the skinship. meanwhile, the person b is practically on fire and keeps glancing at person a.
⇴ "and if you're not ready for this right now, then i can wait–" and the other person cuts them off with a kiss.
⇴ cutting people off with kisses in general. something so endearing about not being able to contain your love for someone that you have to express it asap.
⇴ that silence before a long, deep conversation between person a and person b. they're both looking around at anything but each other, when both parties want nothing more than to desperately reach out. (like they're spiraling not being able to talk to each other)
⇴ "so..." "so."
⇴ that feeling when person a knows there's someone behind them, but is too nervous to check in case it's person b. meanwhile, person b is highly anticipating person a to look back.
⇴ always (and i mean ALWAYS) managing to find each other even through the busiest of crowds. and having that moment where you two make eye contact across the room.
⇴ rubbing/scratching a body part (ex. back) and person a's hand lingers a little too low on accident. but they're freaking out and don't know what to do, so they just keep their hand where it is.
⇴ "if you wanna say something, now's your chance."
⇴ slowly watching person a walk away, even though person b wants them to stay. so, person b runs and tries to catch up with person a before they leave.
⇴ one bed trope except they can't even build the classic wall of pillows. the bed is tiny, so person a and b have to lay so close together that a can feel b's heartbeat pounding.
⇴ ^^ "are you cold?" person b asks even though they can feel their body heat radiating over person a.
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demigods-posts · 1 month
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i have this headcanon that percy and annabeth are raging accidental flirts. but not with each other. like. they'll go to the coffee shop on fifteenth street. and compliment the barista on his hair and clothes and tip really well. but only for him. and they have no idea this boy is absolutely swooning over them. or. each time they to go the bakery downtown. they take the time to converse with the waitress at the counter as they eat her homemade muffins. and are incredibly vocal about how she's their favorite server. and how much they enjoy seeing her. and suddenly they're the only two customers that can get her services for free. except, they just think she's like that with everyone.
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wonryllis · 14 days
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⠀⠀⠀⠀[⠀谷. ) ᨓ ENHYPEN ADMIRING THEIR 𝒢IRL !
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. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen lovesick over the simple things you do. fem!r. fluff, and so soft. wordcount` 635. アーカイブ ACHRIVE?
PLS REBLOG!!!!
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 when you're talking; the way your lips move and the way your voice sounds, these are two things lee heeseung could never get over. he just cannot help but fix his eyes on your mouth shaping letters, so lost and so dazed. you might think he's not listening to exactly what you are speaking of but no, he is. every word and every tone behind it, the most interesting thing in the world. in his world full of everything about you.
"yes baby, i'm always listening, i love to."
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 when you're eating; the little expressions you make and the tiny little sounds that leave you are heaven for him. he could live his entire life making you what you love to eat and sit infront of you to watch you stuff your face full of it. the way sometimes you'd smear some on your cheeks or your lips and just wait, leaving it for him to wipe it away with his thumb or kiss it off because you just love it so much everytime he does it.
"you're so cute, i could watch you forever,"
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 when you're tying up your hair; the hottest thing you could ever do is put your hairtie between your lips and tilt your head back to gather your hair in a pony, neck stretched and inviting. it is a sight on paradise and jake swears he'll die a thousand times to see it. in a trance he is trapped and helpless watching you seduce him every single time and then squeal away when he leaves a little peck at the base of your neck.
"fuck can you do that again, please?"
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 when you're putting on makeup; he absolutely loves sitting around and watching you doll up, or just see your fingers glide against your face like a creep. taking out his phone to click cute candids of you curling your hair, putting on ribbons and braids or record little videos of you putting on your lipgloss, zooming in on the applicator gliding against the plump of your lips, making it look shiny and so so kissable. he goes crazy.
"is it cherry? lemme give you a kiss, pretty,"
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢 when you're laughing; the sound of your laughter, the little giggles and the big snorts, sunoo is in badshit love with everything. he lives to make you so happy you cannot think about anything but laughing your lungs out at something funny or giggling to hide the sweetness and shyness you feel at his words. to see your eyes light up, your smile turning into tiny sounds of excitement sunoo can never move on.
"the sound of your happiness is my favorite thing,"
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 when you're asleep; the vulnerability and softness your features hold when you are passed out makes him feel so giddy, jungwon just cannot stop staring at how cute and peaceful you look. the little snores you let out are his favorite thing in the world. your hair falling over your eyes and lips, breath dulcet and cozy. he loves tucking the strands away, grazing your cheeks and leaving fleeting kisses all over, pulling you closer to him.
"how do you look so pretty even when you're sleeping?"
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 when you're checking out your outfit; putting on different dresses and twirling around in front of the mirror (and him), stopping to check your reflection in store windows and mirrors, riki does not know or understand why he feels so insane in love watching you do all that but he knows he looks at you all gogo gaga when you do it. sitting on the bed and helping you decide which outfit you look better in while his mind is all fuzzy.
"you look like a princess, my pretty princess."
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @ms-no1kpopstan
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novelbear · 7 months
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”no time will be better” - prompts for that first kiss <3
prompt list by @novelbear
"woah."
the first initial kiss being a simple peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one.
"are you sure about this?"
the hands. on the waist. oh my god.
^ then they feel themselves being pulled closer ??
taller gently grasping the shorter's chin
"that was...." "yeah."
a certain song playing while they have their moment and it becomes their song.
"sorry, that was my first kiss." "i could tell." "...." "i'm kidding!"
an accidental first kiss
"are we about to kiss right now?" "you are not serious."
awkward giggles right after
"well i guess that answers my question."
a hand (or both) placed gently on their cheeks!!!
"i'm sorry, i had to."
the uncontrollable smile they break into either after or during the kiss itself
"don't you dare tell anyone about this." "wasn't planning on it."
that panic beforehand while trying to figure out if they're really leaning in for a kiss or not.
someone's hair ending up getting caught in the other's glasses/jewelry
maybe one is awkward enough to the point where they're like "what the hell do i do with my hands?!"
feeling each other instantly relax as they both quickly get comfortable
"can we do that again? my eyes were closed." "oh my god."
their hearts stopping when they hear someone's camera click (a friend catching them in the act ?)
"so does this mean you feel the same or..?"
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thepromptswhisperer · 1 month
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"Together." Prompts
“You and me, together for the rest of our lives. How does that sound?”
“You can count on me.”
“It’s none of my business, but… Are you guys okay? It’s been a while since I last saw you together.”
“You already are a handful. Together, you guys are insufferable.”
“Together? As in ‘you and me’ together?”
“We’re a package deal.”
“It’s just me. And you.”
“Just to clarify: We are in a relationship, right?”
“Without me?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“We started this together, and we’ll end it together.”
“I’m here.”
“We’re in this together.”
“I can’t imagine life without you.”
“You’re practically glued to each other’s side.”
“Us? There is no us.”
“I could always use your help.”
“Oh? Do we have the honor of catching you alone today? It’s been a while since that last happened.”
“Together?” “Together.”
“You won’t get rid of me so easily.”
“Let’s do it together.”
“Those rumors about us are getting annoying. How many times do we have to tell them we aren’t together?”
“No, I mean… Just you and me.”
“I’m glad it’s you I get to/had to experience that with.”
“But we share everything.” 
“We go together like Bert and Ernie. A pair of socks. Or vegemite and oreos.”
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euthymiaaa · 5 months
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— slow burn for friends to lovers˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
aaaa slow burn man, enjoy LOL
delicate hugs, but they linger longer the more both of you do it
"why are you staring? is there something on my face?"
gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better
handholding where your hands are intertwined tightly with theirs
late night calls where one of you accidentally falls asleep
them reading you like an open book, especially knowing when you're going through difficult times
"i can't imagine who i'd be without you in my life"
wanting more physical affection yet you don't want to overstep
yearning to constantly be in their presence
platonic sleepovers that somehow ends up with you waking up with their arms around you
buying matching jewelry, but it doesn't mean anything right?
getting extremely worried when they get physically hurt
memorizing their coffee/tea order so you can buy it for them every morning
"you're so oblivious aren't you"
accidentally staring a bit too long at their lips
watching your favorite movies together
singing your favorite love song to them as if you are truly dedicating the song to them
"you drew stars around my scars" (cardigan by taylor swift)
feeling like your complete self when you're with them
sharing each other's clothes (especially hoodies)
hearing rumors that they have a crush and desperately hoping that it is you who they are crushing on
the urge to confess to them whenever you see them, yet you fear losing them
"what are we to each other?"
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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
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”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, 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 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.
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