↳ ffvii (final fantasy seven) one shots || vol. 1

domesticity || scenario - biggs

anonymous asked: Howdy! Can I request some Biggs domestic fluff?? Your writing is absolutely wonderful and I can't get enough🤗🤗

☼

The sun is bright, too bright, blinding you as you open your eyes, and you can't help the groan that slips past your lips as you roll over, pressing your face against Biggs' chest. It coaxes a gentle laugh out of him, and his arm wraps around you, tugging you close, sucking up your warmth as he draws the blankets further around you both. A satisfied sigh slips past his lips, and his fingers dance up your back and into your hair, gently rubbing up against your scalp.

Your eyes flutter close, his heartbeat like a lullaby, coaxing you into the sweet release of sleep. He shifts, rousing you from your fatigued trance, grunting slightly as he shuffles around in bed, a gasp slipping from your lips when he presses his cold feet to your tight. He throws his head back as he laughs, eyes crinkling and hair falling across his forehead as you push yourself away from him, retreating into the bundle of blankets in search of wramth.

"So cruel."

"Sorry sweetheart. Coffee? Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Sounds good, thanks."

He nods, pushing the remaining blankets off of him and kneeling over you as he tucks them around you, making sure ever inch of you is covered, before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing a fond hand over your chair. The mattress rises when he gets off it, a gush of cool air blasting your cold face when he opens your bedroom door and disappears into the kitchen. He clatters around, opening cupboards and slamming them shut, knocking mugs and plates together noisily. Cutlery clinks loudly, and you abandon any chance of getting a couple extra winks of sleep.

With considerable effort, you push the blankets off, shivering as the cold air caresses your exposed skin, the wood floor icy cold against your feet. For a moment you consider retreating back under the blankets, but you're awake now, and it would take ages to warm yourself up again without Biggs there to be your heater. Pushing yourself up from the bed, your bring your arms above your head, stretching, body popping deliciously, before letting your arms flop to you side, and padding into the kitchen.

Biggs stands at the stove, eggshells abandoned on the counter, fingers strumming against the edge of the stove whilst his other holds a spatula by the pan. Buttered toast has been prepared onto plates on the counter, two steaming cups of coffee beside it. You can't help but smile at the scene, moving over to him to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek against his back and squeezing him tight. His free hand winds around his back, squeezing your side gently, before moving back around to his front to place on top of your arms.

A moment of peaceful silence pass by, contentment and love rushing through your body, tension built up over night during dreams dissipating from your body. His postures slumps slightly, a sign he is relaxing into your hold, melting into it, the worries of the past week and what was to come the next week leaving his thoughts instantaneously, replaced by the warmth radiating off of you and the comforting feeling of your body pressed against his. He starts to hum quietly, casting a glance down at the eggs and running the spatula carefully around the edges of the eggs.

"Hey, can you get the plates? The eggs are done."

He chuckles as you groan, slowly detaching yourself from him, stepping to the side to grab the plates, holding them out to you as he carefully lifts the eggs from the pan to the plate. The moment is tense as both of you wait for him to mess up, he's not known for the transfer from stove to plate being successful, but it's perfect. He grins widely, his eyes lighting up as he turns the stove off and places the spatula inside the cooling pan. He reaches out to take one of the plates, but dives in for a kiss as he does, taking you by surprise. It's a tender kiss at first, but he deepens it quickly, kissing you for a moment longer before pulling back, brown orbs sparking with mischief.

"A reward, for a perfect breakfast."

You hum. "Sure, we'll call it that."