I’m So Glad This Exists Bc I Think Of Them Often - Blog Posts

sugar, mitsuki & masaru.

560. fluff. in love with katsuki’s parents in a fond way. their dynamic is every important to me. masaru loves his wife so much and you should too. ( threat )

mitsuki makes her way into the kitchen just as the digital clock strikes 7.

it’s moments like these, suspended in time, that masaru truly gets to admire his wife’s serenity. mair a mess from rolling straight out of bed, robe sloppily hanging off one shoulder, and the matching house slippers katsuki surprised the two of them with two christmas’ ago that she refuses to throw out adorning her feet. unmistakably her.

he smiles into his coffee and she throws him a look.

“what.” bitten off with a yawn and tapered off into something soft. unmistakably her.

“nothing, nothing,”

he sets to making her own cup and she smiles at him gratefully, pillow lines curving into her cheek just barely. and when he stirs milk into her coffee under her watchful gaze—very particular about the amount, she was—he realizes he’s smitten. a love born from the most uncanny of pairs held steadfastly for many years, and here he was, cheeks reddening at the thought of having a crush on his wife.

mitsuki sends him the second odd look of the morning. It's only been six minutes.

he clears his throat. “creamer?”

“mhm,”

he’s asked what it’s like ‘dealing with her’ a lot, lines blurred between joke and concern. and while he can agree that the two of them do make for a sight to behold, he’d do it all over again and still choose her. they didn’t see the funny faces she makes when she’s on the phone with a client she absolutely loathed, or the way she lit up at the sight of small dogs, or the hidden pride she had whenever someone talked about their son.

he’s mellowed out, now, she’d commented once with a faint sigh. he hadn’t missed the way the corners of her lips had turned up every so slightly, or the way her fingers had curled into the fabric of her skirt. the school’s been a good environment for him. was worried he’d never change, and… i recognize a part of it’s my fault as well.

masaru knows she’s the first person most would blame, but he knows he’s been too lenient, too underspoken. it’s a weight the two of them carried unspoken, each held down by the what if’s and could have been’s. but progress has been made, steps made towards a relationship better than what was left of it. he knows they still hover, awkward, ashamedly so–he’s so grown. so much more responsible–but they try. And while he doesn’t show it, he can tell that katsuki appreciates it nonetheless. (even if they are a little embarrassing.)

“sugar?”

“yes?”

he stops stirring abruptly, desperately fighting back the flush threatening to spread across his features, and gives her a pointed look of slight exasperation. he only relents when mitsuki poorly tries to hide a grin into the palm of her hand, her quiet snort a dead giveaway.

masaru sighs fondly and adds two spoonfuls of sugar. nineteen years and he’s still falling for the same jokes. he supposes it’s worth it, getting to see her smile like that.

sliding the cup over when finished, he watches as she takes the first sip, something horridly sappy banging alongside his heart when she hums her delight, content lifting her lips into a brilliant smile.

“thank you.” for choosing me. for katsuki. for the coffee.

definitely worth it.