AINT NO WAY I FOUND SOMEONE WILLING TO WRITE FOR MR. VILLANS DAY OFF🥹🥹🥹 INSTANT FOLLOW. I dont even know what to request if they are still open. I'm thinking how the first time spending the night in Warumono sans apartment would go. And like waking up togeather like the episode when he was too cold to get out of bed. He's so cute (female or Gender nutural if possoble)
Hope you like this little fic. I wrote it in my break.
Coffee filled the apartment long before the day truly began. The hum of the machine purring into the silent apartment, not even the roads were awake yet with weekend shoppers. The aroma drifted lazily from the small kitchen, winding through the hallway and into the living room, settling into the soft fabric of the sofa and the curtains that framed the broad window overlooking the quiet street below. It mingled with the faint scent of clean laundry drying near the balcony door and the earthy fragrance of the potted plants arranged with surprising care along the windowsill. The apartment still carried that lived-in warmth unique to shared spaces; a folded blanket left over the arm of the sofa, a mug abandoned from the previous evening beside a stack of magazines, and a pair of slippers sitting haphazardly near the bedroom door where someone had kicked them off without a second thought.
Outside, autumn had only just arrived. The trees lining the street had begun surrendering their green leaves one by one, replacing them with scattered shades of amber and crimson. Normally the season still carried traces of summer warmth, but today the wind had teeth. It chased brittle leaves along the pavement, rattled the panda pots Warumono had beguilingly placed outside, muttering they were ‘too cute’ to offend with the unseasonal cold. Every so often a stronger gust sent another flurry of leaves spiralling through the air before scattering them across the empty road, where they scraped softly against the tarmac.
The apartment windows had misted over from the cold. Tiny droplets clung to the glass where warmth from inside met the biting chill beyond, slowly sliding downward in uneven trails.
You stood beside one of them with a warm mug cradled between your hands, watching your breath briefly cloud the glass before disappearing. The ceramic radiated comforting heat into your fingers, chasing away the lingering chill that had settled there the moment you'd climbed out of bed. You leaned lightly against the window frame, content for a few quiet moments to simply watch the sleepy world beyond.
The first sip was almost impossibly comforting. Rich, warm and just bitter enough to wake you properly. It had been a long six months, the fact you had stayed the night at your boyfriend's apartment itself was a relatively new concept. Add in he was an alien lizard hell bent on destroying the earth…well that itself was…difficult.
It still felt strange sometimes, waking up somewhere that had slowly become familiar despite how absurd the circumstances were. The apartment no longer felt like somewhere you were visiting. Your toothbrush sat beside his in the bathroom. A cardigan you'd forgotten weeks ago now permanently occupied the back of one of his dining chairs. Somewhere in the kitchen cupboard, your favourite tea had mysteriously appeared alongside his coffee without either of you ever really acknowledging when that happened.
Your eyes wandered toward the bedroom.
The duvet had become an oddly shaped hill in the middle of the mattress. A small tuft of black curls escaped from the edge of the blanket, untidy and impossibly soft-looking, the only indication that the apartment's other occupant still existed somewhere underneath several carefully layered blankets. One foot had somehow managed to remain entirely buried beneath the duvet despite the obvious twisting and turning that must have happened overnight, the blankets wrapped around him like a carefully constructed cocoon.
You took another sip before wandering toward the bedroom.
The room was noticeably cooler than the kitchen. Morning light slipped between the curtains in pale ribbons, painting silver lines across the wooden floorboards but it did nothing to blunt the harshness of the cold. The air held that crisp stillness unique to early mornings before heaters had fully warmed a home, making the room feel just a little too cold to willingly leave the comfort of bed.
"...Good morning."
The blanket mountain remained completely still. For several seconds nothing happened. Then the blankets shifted almost imperceptibly.
One sleepy eye appeared. His hair had somehow become even messier overnight, dark curls refusing every attempt gravity made to flatten them. The faint crease of the pillow remained pressed against one cheek. His eyelid fluttered in the brightness before narrowing into a sleepy squint, clearly regretting exposing even that much of himself to the cold air.
"...Cold."
You couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped you. You forgot he was cold blooded, in the summer heat he would bask like an overgrown lizard but now in the winter you were seeing a rather more vulnerable side to your boyfriend. It was oddly endearing seeing someone who carried himself with such seriousness reduced to an indignant blanket burrito the moment the temperature dipped.
He watched you for a moment before disappearing beneath the blankets again.
Only the curls remained visible. For a moment you blinked at the mound of blankets, thinking for a moment if you should pick up that Panda throw that had just been released at that shop Warumono liked to loiter, scaring off anyone who dared approach it. You could almost picture him standing protectively beside the display, arms folded with exaggerated seriousness while silently intimidating every unsuspecting customer who looked remotely interested.
A hand emerged. Long fingers searched vaguely across the edge of the mattress before finding the sleeve of your jumper. They closed around the fabric with surprising gentleness, giving it the faintest tug as though he didn't quite have the energy to pull any harder. His fingertips were noticeably cool even through the thick material.
“Are you getting it? Or are you happy to let me freeze?’’
You looked down at his hand before looking back at the motionless blanket.
"...Five more minutes. Please…i’m cold."
His voice was barely louder than the wind tapping against the window. And even without seeing his face you practically hear his pout. The words came out half mumbled against the pillow, sleep still clinging stubbornly to every syllable.
You set your mug carefully on the bedside table. A thin curl of steam continued to rise from the untouched coffee as you climbed onto the mattress. The duvet lifted with a rush of trapped warmth before cool air slipped inside.
The mattress dipped softly beneath your weight as you lifted the cover and slid under the duvet, shivering as cold arms slipped around your waist and pulled you against an even colder chest. His hold tightened almost immediately, instinctive rather than deliberate, as though his body had decided you were now the world's most effective hot water bottle. Despite how cold his skin felt, the blankets around the two of you quickly trapped the remaining warmth between your bodies.
"Better?"
You didn’t get an answer save for a half murmur slur as he pressed his face into your back and curled around you. His breathing slowed again almost immediately, evening out into the soft, sleepy rhythm of someone drifting back toward sleep. A contented sigh escaped him, barely audible against the muffled rustle of blankets.
Maybe you could convince him to not destroy the world. After a nap of course.
