#fluuuuuuff

You: “Dante. I got to go.”

Dante: “Five more minutes.”

You: “What are you, 5?”

Dante: “You’re 5.”

Although he wasn’t completely awake, indicated by the sound of the slur in his voice, he still has that sassy attitude about him that you adored. You would have actually thought this moment to be cute only that you really needed to leave. It was going to be a long day ahead. You try to free yourself from his arm around your waist but it only seemed to tighten his hold. You huff in annoyance.

You: “Dante, you’re gonna make me mad.”

Dante: “Then be mad at me.”

With some effort and strength, you turn yourself in his arms to mouth him off when your voice is silenced by his lips upon yours. It took you by surprise, stunned you even as he deepens the kiss by grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer. The sensation left your mind hazy, a feeling that lingers even as he pulls away and looks at you. He was completely awake now and had an impish grin on his rugged face.

Dante: “Take it easy today, okay? Imma be right here when you get back.”

With a final peck on your nose, he removes his arms from you and buries himself in your sheets. You were now free to go about your day, but his kiss still tingled on your lips. You glance at the clock on your sidetable.

Dante was slowly beginning to doze off again, it was still too early for him, however, he was roused awake when he felt the sheet over him shift and a weight press against his bare chest. Hands sprawled across his broad back before gripping him. The grip wasn’t strong enough to pull him, but it brought you closer, the feel of your chest against his made his heart quicken slightly. He opens one eye to see you lying beside him. He almost laughs.

Dante: “Thought you had to be somewhere?”

You bury your head in his chest, not wanting to face him and admit to the cliché sentimental effect he had on you.

You: “Five more minutes.”

XL only, though.

Written for @bnha-femslashweek Day 2 - acceptance/coming out! mainly acceptance for this one.

Pairing: MinaChakoMomo (mina x ochako x momo)

Rating: T

Word count: 1329

Extra tags: Fluff, pining, Iida and Midoriya are Ochako’s best bros

Summary: Mina and Momo are dating and Ochako is pretty gay.

OK, so I like this one, it’s adorable and I had a lot of fun, but I also feel like I maybe rushed it a little so you could have it before I go…..so feel free to request more fluff from me at any time

It’s a sight he’s still not used to yet, Fenris sprawled in the middle of his bed, indolent and content, idly flipping the pages of a book he borrowed from Hawke’s library, though the small smile Fenris gives him when he feels him watching is worth all the time it took them to get there. Candles litter the flat surfaces of Hawke’s room, three currently scattered on the desk he’s using, several lie on the bedside tables, and two more perch somewhat precariously on the armoire. The hour is late and darkness presses close outside the window. They’ve slowly been lighting candles all evening as the sky darkens, and Hawke tips an unlit candle into the flickering wick of another on his desk, placing the newly lit one near his elbow. A precarious place, perhaps, and he shrugs at Fenris’s questioning look before turning back to his pile of correspondence.

This is what he gets for refusing to answer most letters when they arrive downstairs, nearly tagged and catalogued by Bodahn. But he hates pretending to be civil to the nobles and other sundry folk who request his presence or his services. Leandra had been quite helpful with that when she’d still lived, and though Hawke doesn’t miss her very much, their relationship had been rocky to say the least, he does miss the skillful way she handled the other Hightown residents. They don’t much appreciate Hawke’s brusque style and his tendency to reply to invitations with a simple “yes” or “no,” rather than a flowery acceptance or regretful declination. Even with his terse method of communicating, when the letters pile up like this there’s just no way around having to spend several hours on it.

He’s nearly done, thank the Maker, and jabs his seal into the wax on the last envelope somewhat viciously. If he can’t duel his neighbors down the way, Lord and Lady Whatstheirrump, then the slightly crooked, slightly dented seal will just have to make do. Hawke pushes the folded bits of parchment to one side of the desk and folds his hands on the newly created empty space, resting his head on them to look over at Fenris.

Part of the elf is obscured by one of the posters on the bed, and Hawke frowns. It’s covering the bare expanse of Fenris’s chest and that just won’t do. If Fenris deliberately undressed for the purpose of lying in Hawke’s bed and providing a distraction from boring nobles’ letters, and he had for he’d told Hawke just that, meeting his eyes before slowly stripping his tunic from his body, then Hawke is going to bloody well enjoy the distraction.

He stands from the desk, careful not to upset any of the candles and burn the estate down, and crosses to stand at the foot of the bed, leaning against the offending poster. Fenris glances at Hawke out of the corner of his eye then resumes his reading, stretching one leg out long before tucking it back up against the other where it had been. He is incredibly distracting, Hawke’s impressed he actually managed to get everything he needed to done, and he looks incredible there among the messy sheets on Hawke’s bed. The lyrium contrasts against his dark skin, both lyrium and flesh providing a counterpoint against the deep red of the sheets. A master painter could have only this scene and never run out of things to paint.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Fenris asks, allowing the book to fall closed on his finger.

Hawke shakes his head and rests his cheek against the poster, wrapping one arm around it too. “I just…” He huffs lightly and licks his lips. “That’s a good look for you.”

Fenris looks down at himself, lying on his side, and stretches a little, raising an eyebrow. “Half naked in your bed? I imagine so.”

“It’s not that, it’s—” Hawke scowls with no real heat as Fenris smirks slightly. And the elf does have a point: any time Hawke is able to have Fenris in his bed is a good look. He sighs and presses his forehead to the poster.

“Happy. You look happy.”

Silence from Fenris, and Hawke chews on the inside corner of his lips. Had he overstepped? Maybe Fenris isn’t comfortable hearing things like that yet. He adds that to his mental list of things to be careful of and slowly rotates his head so he can look at Fenris.

Fenris, who has half sat up in bed and is staring at him, eyes widened, lips parted. His hair on the side he’d been lying on sticks in three different directions, and Hawke nearly smiles. Fenris’s book has been abandoned to one side of the bed. The hand he’d been using to hold it fidgets in his lap for a moment, then he raises it toward Hawke, beckoning with his fingers when he doesn’t move.

“Hawke.” Fenris’s voice is soft and low, and Hawke takes his hand. Fenris tugs him onto the bed until Hawke is lying on his side, facing Fenris. He traces his fingertips lightly down Hawke’s cheek, drawing across his lips then around the line of his jaw.

Well its almost embarassing

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