#give me the domesticity give me the intimacy!!!!

[projectjasper]

new siwaj is genuinely so good at the romcom genre (with a dash of something like slice of life here and there), so good at showing humour and domesticity and intimacy and cute fluffy romance. fully unparalleled in those departments. and i think so far perfect 10 liners manages to stay within the bounds of the genre the best.

putting aside some of new's earlier works and focusing on two generally amazing romcoms that he has made in recent years that i absolutely adore - 'a boss and a babe' and 'we are' - there was pretty much only one issue with both of them: they tried to bite off more (complicated and heavy topics) than they (as romcom series) could chew. the way abaab handled the abuse storyline was just bad and it might as well not have brought up the question of the relationship's power dynamic cause it didn't have anything substantial to say about it. don't get me started on the way child abandonment is waved off in 'we are'. and i honestly think these more serious topics were eventually dealt with so flippantly not because new is incapable of handling such serious topics at all (see: until we meet again) but because seriously handling them in this case would take us too far away from the romcom genre. they are simply something it is inherently unequipped to deal with.

meanwhile, perfect 10 liners (at least, so far - fingers crossed for the rest of the series) has been really good at presenting human characters with a backstory that is significant and effective in establishing conflict but also pretty normal, not entirely world-shattering, or uniquely heavy. having a shitty ex or divorced parents are things that do absolutely have a serious negative impact on people, but they are also very common and it is exactly because of how ordinary and easily digestible they are that they can be dealt with fairly quickly and painlessly, not requiring too much nuance and in-depth discussion. what i'm saying is they are not like your first love being a survivor who killed herself or your boyfriend being sent away and abandoned at age five. you know what i mean? they are perfect conflict set-ups but are also not too much for a romcom to handle.

because at the end of the day the romcom genre is like the dessert of media. it's awesome, it gives us a sugar rush and, to some (me, it's me, i'm talking about myself), it is the best part of the meal. but it cannot handle the same amount of density the main course can. it is mostly lighthearted and largely uncomplicated by definition and it should stay that way. (part of the reason why i think romcoms have been struggling with this is because there has been a trend of people wishing to feel constantly intellectual just for the sake of it and thinking complexity and heavy themes are the only acceptable things in media, but that's like... a whole other essay).

and, although i know a lot also depends on the screenwriter(s) and the source material, with the way conflict has been presented and wielded in perfect 10 liners, i really think new is finally fully getting to that point where he knows exactly what this kind of series should look like, what his own strengths are, and how to mix the two.

at this point, at least to me, new siwaj is the king of the bl romcom genre. and, as someone who has been watching straight romcoms his whole life and has always loved the genre but yearned to see himself in it, i am eternally grateful to new for finally making that dream come true.

[vanmarkus]

thanks to your kissy series I'm realizing we did get some steamy scenes even on fox and now what if we get that turned up x100 for bucktommy? I will die a happy death

yyyyeah I am having my fingers crossed for some action... like, if we just get the 'undressing each other while kissing and getting closer to the bed' thing that they did with Buck and Abby that'd nurish me for days and weeks to come...

but then again, I would truly just appreciate some softness, lying in bed together (shirtless for the implications lmao) and just you know... giving soft kisses, talking quietly, drawing little patterns into each other's chest... yeah. 🫠

[meatriarchived2]

i know my big thing with writing definitely points more towards all the evil plots and dynamics etc, i really do love getting the chance to explore all those types of complicated and cruel aspects of verses and horror etc in general - and i definitely am thankful for the partners i get to nosedive those plots with bc its always so fascinating and heartbreaking and exciting to see what we come up with for them and everything, kisses to the sky to yall ♡

but one of the underrated themes ( that i see as underrated at least on here ) in writing that i absolutely LOVE getting to really go in on and explore are those deeper connections between muses to the point of domesticity among them. like yes, cutesy and soft interactions / plots dont come too easily to me personally most days bc i Am more of the dark / gritty / w/e type of writer and so my interest steers more towards those than anything but - get me to the point where we talk about a dynamic in that much depth and im SUCH a sucker for those soft intimate moments man. get me to where a family starts and im on the fuckin ground every time-

.

[lesbiradshaw]

ok great now that more network shows have lesbian couples where are the lesbian sex scenes

[repressedgaymer]

i don't want to date anyone. but id Love to be somebody's wife or husband

[mousfri]

will's conversations with bedelia are extremely meaningful. not only is will triumphant and smug about hannibal being in love with him, beds is actively jealous in return. it's this whack love triangle where one of them never had a chance, and for once it's not the straight pairing that's coming out on top.

will knows what he's doing when he breaks hannibal out. he doesn't hesitate. he puts plans in place to give them more time by acting like he's going to kill hannibal. he knew how he'd break him out far, far before beds even confirmed hannibal's love for him, he was just waiting for a good enough reason. will didn't ever fall out of love or obsession with hannibal, he just needed time to get over himself and accept the inevitability of it, because he's a fussy, vengeful bastard.

I'm sure this has been said a dozen times already, but it always baffles me when people say "Hannigram isn't canon" , "Hannibal is queerbaiting", "the show should've made them canon" or anything similar to that. I see it less on tumblr, but have seen it elsewhere and it's like, did we watch the same show? Just because they're not making out sloppy style or having intense gay sex on screen doesn't mean they're not into each other?

Like there's a scene where Will straight up asks "is Hannibal in love with me?" and gets a confirming answer. Theres a scene where Hannibal compares them to Achilles and Patroclus. Hannibal turns himself in to the FBI despite being able to escape and he does it for Will! Hannibal is so completely, deeply obsessed with Will because he loves Will. The show makes it explicit time and time again that Hannibal is in love with Will.

And Will is very much into Hannibal as well. I think for Will it might seem less obvious at times, after all, he had a wife and a kid while Hannibal was imprisoned. But ultimately there's a reason why Will chooses to free Hannibal and go with him. They kill the dragon together and Will is the one who says how beautiful it is. Will outright admitted that he wanted to run away with Hannibal, and that want never actually left him.

The show itself coined the term "murder husbands". A character in canon calls Hannibal and Will that. Hannibal refers to himself and Will as Abigail's fathers. They wanted to run away together and be a family. The finale of those two on the cliff embracing and covered in blood is like the most romantic scene ever shown on tv.

Characters do not need to kiss on screen to be canonically in love!

And I think with this show that statement is especially true because of how many times characters *do* kiss and have sex, and it means nothing. Hannibal had sex with Alana as a way to manipulate her and have her blind to what he was doing. He didn't do it out of love. Margot didn't have sex with Will because she was attracted to him. The show displays very obviously that those things don't necessarily equal attraction, and I think it's completely fine that Will and Hannibal never do something like that. Their attraction to each other is still there!

[creativepromptsforwriting]

The fluffiest masterpost

Hugs

Touching

Hand-holding

Domestic fluff prompts

Soft Domestic Stuff

Fluff Prompts

Fluffy Dialogue Prompts Part I

Fluffy Dialogue Prompts Part II

Fluffy Sentence Starters

Cute Interactions

Super soft intimacy

Subtle acts of love

Make ‘em swoon

Casual Affections

Affections without touching

Seeking out physical affection

One Hundred Compliments

Giving the reader butterflies

Making your characters blush

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[bunsiesblog]

Viktor Relationship HC

Viktor x GN!Reader

Purely self indulgent headcanons for Viktor in a relationship. You want fluff? Here is fluff.

tags: s1!viktor, established relationship, typical domesticity and fluff

➽───────────────❥

Viktor prefers subtle displays of affection. His intimacy is quiet—a hushed whispered shared between the two of you.

Very public and grand displays of affection tend to leave him embarrassed and flustered. This doesn’t mean he shies away from showing the world he is yours. But he prefers those intimate acts to be shared between the two of you.

That being said—he is a man in love. And he simply can’t help himself when you are near. So he has found a few ways to express his devotion to you:

A gentle bump of the knee under the table as you both sit together.

Interlocked pinkies. A touch so small it might have been missed if not for the faint smile pulling at his lips.

A hidden hand resting on your thigh while he reads or works—absentmindedly tracing circles with his thumb.

A tender touch to the small of your back as he guides you through crowds. Not only to keep you close but to keep him grounded as well.

Quick kiss to your forehead when parting ways. “Take care, lásko.”

Viktor adores holding your hands. Such an innocent and simple act leaves him feeling profoundly connected to you.

He often does it absentmindedly—reaching for your hand when his mind is elsewhere. His thumb traces your knuckles or the faint lines of your palm. He’ll even play with your fingers, as though committing their shape to memory.

Our lovely scientist quite likes the size difference between your two hands. He’ll press his palm flat against yours, marveling at the contrast with a soft smile on his face. “It’s quite unfair that I am so lanky, no?”

When privacy is reliably assured, Viktor rather enjoys spoiling you with affection and being spoiled in return. Here are some favorites of his in no particular order:

Kissing. And not the kind that is full of tongue and saliva (although he can acknowledge certain … situations … where it has its benefit.) He prefers the soft and revert kisses he gives you. The sort of kiss where he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs brushing along your cheeks, and simply embraces you. Like he’d rather be at your lips all day than breathe air.

Viktor also has a pension for kissing you in places that are not just your lips. His kisses are gentle, playful, and unexpectedly intimate. Some of his favorite places to leave them on you are the inside of your wrist, the curve of your shoulder, the slope of your neck, and the tip of your nose.

He particularly enjoys the way you laugh or squirm when he traces light kisses to your neck and jawline. Viktor will hold your hands to keep you from wiggling away. Despite being quiet by nature, Viktor’s smirk betrays how much he enjoys hearing you laugh. “You want me to stop? But you make such sweet sounds for me, Koťátko. Just one more.”

A quiet night in the lab made him realize just how much he enjoys seeking your warmth and filling in the empty spaces between you. When you’re perched at the edge of his work table, Viktor will instinctively step between your legs and rest his hand on your thighs as he looks up at you. It’s any wonder how he gets any sort of work done when you’re around.

To others, he is a polite but distant man. Constantly consumed by his work and ambition. But with you, he is something else entirely: gentle, tender, and devoted. And it is clear to anyone who knows him just how special you are.

Viktor always gives you his unwavering attention. When you speak, he listens. His whiskey eyes are held steady to your own. Oftentimes, when he thinks you won’t notice, they’ll flick down to your lips. And he’ll rub a thoughtful hand over his jaw, trying his best to hide an amused smile. “Hm? Yes, I’m listening, sweetheart.”

His reserved nature doesn’t lend itself to overt sentimentality. But with you? It shines. There is a tenderness in him that only you can bring out.

Viktor has a weathered notebook he keeps in his coat pocket for when inspiration strikes or he simply can’t put his pen down. However, among the haphazard grocery lists or scribbled equation are notes about you like ‘prefers chamomile tea when anxious’ or ‘smiles when it rains’. Even the margins of his notes are decorated with absentminded doodles of you.

He most definitely is an act of service kind of man. The chain of your necklace is broken? Or your watch won’t tick past 6:33? He’ll silently take it off your hands, fiddle with the repair in the quiet hours of his lab, and leave it for you to be found the next day. Any sort of thanks you try to give him are met with a humble “it was nothing.” Although the blush on his ears tell a different story.

[hitoshitoshi]

Hair Washing [Husband!Zayne x GenderNeutral!Reader]

Summary: You take care of Zayne and he allows it for once in his life.

Tags: Established Relationship, Married life, Hair Washing, Self Degradation, Hurt/Comfort, Self Indulgent, Workaholic and Stubborn Zayne, Domestic fluff, Non-sexual Intimacy, Romance.

Zayne drove his Audi into the garage, the purr of the engine fading to silence as he cut the ignition. As the garage door descended, shutting out the world where it was just him in his car — his forehead resting against the steering wheel, eyes closed, the weight of a 16-hour shift was hitting him like a fire being snuffed out by a lid. 

'Pull yourself together,' Zayne chided internally, straightening up with a soft inaudible groan. 

Flipping down the sun visor mirror, Zayne assessed his reflection. Dark circles lurked beneath his hazel eyes, his hair was slightly disheveled, and his skin lost a bit of its glow. Zayne grabbed a comb and meticulously smoothed out his hair into place. 

'You have no right to burden others with your childish grievances,' Zayne reminded himself, a mantra born of years of self-imposed stoicism. Zayne would not allow himself to ever burden you with such a pitiful thing such as tiredness or to ever make you worry as long as he lived. 

Satisfied with his appearance, Zayne exited the car, his movements deliberately measured to hide his bone-deep fatigue that threatened to consume him. As he approached the house, he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. The mask, Dr. Zayne — the Cardiac Surgeon, slid off as he was now Zayne, your husband. He opened the door, stepping into the warmth of your shared home. 

Zayne called out to you, "I'm home," his voice was steady and neutral, betraying none of the relief he felt at finally being home to where you were, in the house you two had lived in and cherished.

The sounds of rapid footsteps echoed through the house, and Zayne felt a flutter of warmth in his chest. You appeared, eyes bright with joy and relief that your beloved husband came home from work. For a moment, Zayne allowed a soft smile to tug at the corner of his lips as he drank in the sight of his partner. 

Your heart raced at the sight of Zayne, a mix of excitement and concern washed over you. You rushed forward, arms outreached for a hug, but you stopped mid-motion as you took in Zayne's appearance. Despite Zayne's immaculate exterior, you knew Zayne more than anyone else to know that he was tired —  the slight degree of a slump in Zayne's shoulders, the barely perceptible tightness around Zayne's eyes, the shadows under Zayne's eyes being a shade too dark. Your heart clenched, seeing the man you loved with your entire soul, pushing himself so hard. 

"Zayne, you look tired," You said softly as you reached out to touch Zayne's arm. Your fingers trembled slightly, torn between the desire to pull him close and the fear of overstepping even if you two were already married. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Zayne felt a surge of conflicting emotions at your words —  gratitude warring with his ingrained need for self-reliance. It was always Zayne treating and spoiling you, and not the other way around. Even the times when you tried to spoil him back, Zayne would always find a way to turn it around so that it was back to him spoiling you. His eyebrow arched slightly, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement to hide the vulnerability he felt.

"I'm fine," Zayne replied, his tone leaving  no room for argument, even as an iota of him longed to give in, "It was just another day at the hospital." Zayne knew that he couldn't convince you since you were as stubborn as him, but it couldn't hurt to try.

 Your eyes narrowed, unconvinced. You could see the weariness Zayne was trying so hard to hide, and it made your chest tighten with worry. You insisted, "You've been gone for over 16 hours and this was the 3rd time this week back to back that you've had these long shifts. You need to rest. Let me help you rest." 

"I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I've had longer shifts that were more troubling throughout the years," Zayne countered, a hint of stubbornness creeping into his voice. Even as he spoke, he felt his resolve wavering under your gaze —  he hated concerning you. He hated making you feel this way —  he hated himself for making you feel this way. 

You stepped closer, your hand was gentle but insistent on Zayne's arm. You could feel the tension in his muscles and the slight tremor of exhaustion. "Please, Zayne," you pleaded, "Let me do this for you once. You always take care of me, let me take care of you sometimes. Even if it's on a blue moon, let me take care of you once." 

Zayne's eyes shifted away as he let out a sigh, the rigid set of his shoulders relaxed a bit. A wave of tenderness washed over him, mingled with gratitude as he reluctantly gave in. "Fine," Zayne conceded, his tone was of his usual deadpan but it was tinged with affection. "If it will put your mind at ease." 

Your face broke into a warm smile, relief and love shining in your eyes. You grabbed Zayne’s hand as you led Zayne towards the bathroom. Zayne allowed himself to lean slightly into your touch. For once, Zayne allowed himself to accept the care he so often denied himself. 

You filled the bathtub with hot water, the sound of rushing liquid filling the quiet room. You added a generous amount of bubble bath, watching as frothy suds formed on the surface. The scent of rose oil wafted through the air as you added a few drops of it to the water. Your heart raced in anticipation and nervousness, hoping that you’d be able to take away Zayne’s stress. 

Soft light from carefully placed candles flickered across the walls as you dimmed the overhead lights. You turned to Zayne who stood in the doorway — a hint of vulnerability in his usually stoic expression. 

“Come,” You said softly, extending your hand out towards him. Zayne took your hand, allowing himself to be led to the bathtub. He raised your hand up to his lips as he gave your knuckles a soft kiss as a thank you. Zayne didn’t know the last time someone had put effort into him that wasn’t you — at least, someone who didn’t have any outside intentions of being nice to him. Zayne was forever thankful that he had such a kind spouse in his life, that out of all the lives he had lived, that he was able to be with you in this one.

As Zayne settled into the warm water, a soft sigh escaped his lips. The tension he’d been carrying began to melt away, and he closed his eyes to savor the sensation. Your heart swelled with affection at the sight of Zayne finally relaxing.

With gentle movements, you began to soak Zayne’s hair with warm water. Your fingers combed through the dark strands, careful not to tug or cause discomfort. Zayne’s breathing deepened slightly, the rhythmic motion lulled him into a state of calm he only experienced with and around you. 

You reached for the shampoo, squeezing a small amount into your palm. The fresh, clean scent filled the air as you began to work it into Zayne’s scalp. Starting at the temples, you used your fingertips to massage in small, circular motions, applying gentle pressure to stimulate blood flow and to clean all of Zayne’s hair and his head. As your fingers worked their way to the base of Zayne’s skull, you could feel the tension that Zayne’s been holding start to loosen. Zayne let out a low hum of appreciation —  the sound sending a small flutter though your chest. God, you loved your husband so much. You worked the shampoo through the rest of Zayne’s hair.

Once Zayne’s hair was thoroughly lathered, you began to rinse it clean. You used a small cup to pour warm water over his head —  your other hand acted as a shield to prevent shampoo from running into his eyes. Zayne’s thoughts drifted, the simple act of being cared for stirred emotions that he usually kept tightly controlled.

Next, You reached for the conditioner, applying a generous amount through Zayne’s hair —  focusing on the ends which tended to be drier. You began to massage Zayne’s scalp once more.You used your thumbs as you applied pressure to the occipital ridge at the base of Zayne’s skull. You then moved to the crown, using your fingertips to make small circular motions. You paid special attention to Zayne’s temples as you used gentle sweeping motions with your thumbs to ease away the day’s stress.

As your fingers worked their magic, Zayne felt himself surrendering to the care being lavished upon him as his eyes fluttered closed once more, his entire body relaxing in the hot water. A surge of protectiveness and tenderness surged through you as you noticed the change in Zayne’s demeanor. You bent your head down as you placed a soft kiss on your husband’s lips who reciprocated the kiss with even more gentleness in his movements.

“Thank you,” Zayne murmured against your lips— his voice was low and thick with emotion. The simple phrase carried the weight of all the gratitude and affection he struggled to express aloud.

You continued massaging Zayne’s scalp as you replied to him softly, “Always.”

The rhythmic pitter-patter of water being poured filled the air as you rinsed out Zayne’s hair; steam curled lazily around them, carrying the fading scent of the conditioner. Zayne’s breathing slowed as the last of the conditioner washed away. Your hand found Zayne’s elbow, steadying him as he rose. The sudden change in position sent a momentary rush to Zayne’s head, his usual grace faltering. Your eyes met Zayne’s briefly in the foggy mirror as you reached for the robe hanging nearby; the dark purple fabric rich against the bathroom’s pale tiles. As you helped Zayne slip on the robe, the soft material settled against his skin, still warm and slightly damp. The sound of footsteps resonated through the house as you both made your way to the bedroom. The air was cooler, raising goosebumps on Zayne’s exposed skin. He sank down onto the bed’s edge; the mattress dipped slightly under his weight. You moved behind him with a towel in hand. The first touch of terrycloth against Zayne’s nape sent a shiver down his spine — bare perceptible but there. You towel dried Zayne’s hair as his eyelids grew heavy; his usual sharp focus softened around the edges.  You reached over to the nightstand where you grabbed the comb, its teeth scraped gently against Zayne’s scalp, with each pass detangling your husband’s hair — detangling all of the stress in Zayne’s mind who only focused on you and your touch. A clock ticked softly somewhere as the lamp on the other side of the bedroom casted a warm glow that softened the lines of their faces, illuminating your faces and your love. As you worked, Zayne found his gaze drawn to your reflection in the dresser mirror. He watched the play of emotions across your face: concentration in the slight furrow of your brows with care in the gentle set of your mouth. Something stirred in Zayne’s chest — an emotion he had sought after for so long that he would fight with his entire soul to keep.

“I love you.”

“I love you most”.

It was more than just a hair wash to both you and Zayne; it was an act of love, trust, and vulnerability that would deepen your bond in ways words could never express. 

A/N: I love Zayne. I really really really love Zayne as you can tell. Have I mentioned that I love Zayne? Because I love Zayne. I have Zayne smut in drafts thats halfway written :3

Masterlist

[frmisnow]

ALL KINDS OF WINE ! — series masterlist.

summary. after you realize that the man you had a drunk one night stand with, was in fact your new ceo. you settle on avoiding him as best as you could- but why do you feel so drawn to him?

🍷⭒⋆｡˚ masterlist key s - suggestive (m) / 18+ - smut f - fluff a - angst

chapter one. — BORDEAUX ─ ・ﾟ 🥤 "bordeaux wines are known for their deep, complex flavors and are often associated with luxury and intimacy. "

teaser tags. alcohol nerd! jk, reader uses him to get over bad memories ?, making out, alcohol!! ┃ rated : s

chapter two. — 1:37AM : BAROLO ─ ・ﾟ 🥤 "barolo wines are known to be one of italy's greatest wines. with bold, rich flavor. "

teaser tags. business trip, smoking (reader's first time), masturbation heavely implied, fingering, giving m. head, pussy eating, drunk!!!, tad bit of angst at end ┃ rated : (m) / 18+

chapter three. — MERLOT ─ ・ﾟ 🥤 "merlot wines are known for their smooth, soft flavor, often with cherries. "

teaser tags. let me take care of u! jungkook, hints at domestic abuse and daddy issues, angst, rly bad ex :/ , comfort!! ┃ rated : f, a

chapter four. — ONCE AGAIN, MILAN

teaser tags. a lot of sex, spoiling! jungkook, italy ┃ rated : (m) / 18+ , f

chapter five. — honey moon!

teaser tags. in love love love, marriage, drabble, turkey mentioned ┃ rated : f

drabbles are possible !

[usagiarchive]

sunday mornings — jing yuan x reader

"Come and rest your bones with me, driving slow on Sunday morning and I never want to leave."

sypnosis. [ 0.5k words. fluff. domestic + married life. ] — weekend bliss with your husband and son.

“Yuan?”

“In the garden!” you hear Yanqing’s voice call out, echoing through the door from the kitchen.

You pad barefoot through the house, sleepily rubbing your eyes. It was a Saturday, meaning he would be over to spend time with his father to either play starchess or spar.

The moment you slide the glass door and curtains away, you see the both of them on the wooden floors of the patio playing the beloved game.

Yanqing goes to greet you with a smile and tells you they still have tea and you ruffle his hair affectionately, “Careful, baobei, he might steal your pieces again,” you tell him as you pass the two by to pour a cup of tea, drinking from your lover's teacup.

The boy reacts immediately and lunges for the man in front of him, “Dad, open your mouth, you better have not eaten the pieces again!”

“I have not eaten the pieces,” he whines as he opens his mouth for the boy to inspect, “It was one time…” he sulks as Yanqing returns to his seat, eyes narrowed as he makes an ‘i’m watching you’ gesture.

You chuckle at their shenanigans as you slink beside your husband, his hand naturally falling against the curve of your waist as you lean into his chest.

“How was your rest?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice through the shirt he wears.

“It was well, could've been better,”

Yanqing makes a move and you feel him tilt his head then make his move as well.

“How so?”

“I could've woken up beside you,” you take a sip of your tea.

“Oh?”

You giggle from behind the teacup and glance towards Yanqing, he's unaffected by all of these by now.

Ah, you miss when he was a disgusted child telling you both to go get a room.

Nowadays, you only see him a few times a week, his position in the Cloud Knights and your schedule at the Alchemy Commission keeping you from your son.

You relish the moments on the weekends where you get to spend time with him. With both of them.

“Checkmate Xiao ‘Qing,” the general tells him and you see your son narrow his eyes before sighing.

He takes a sip of his own tea, “Nineteen years and you'd think he would let me win…”

You and Yuan share a laugh.

Yanqing never was good at losing.

“Well, next time, maybe,” your husband teases as he nudges your arm to give him a sip of the tea.

You raise your arm, no adjustments needed, just as you've always done in the past, he always did like it when you let him drink from the same cup.

Something about the intimacy of it, he says.

Yanqing smiles at your display.

Jing Yuan snuggles into the side of your face.

“How about a nap, Àirén? To make up for me not waking up next to you today?”

You placed the cup on the table and hugged his side.

“That would be a fitting solution, yes,”

It is hours later when you wake up still on the patio. Your head laying on Yuan's chest, his arm around you, sporting a smile on his face as he slept.

The sun has risen high in the sky, yet the clouds remain, providing shade along with the roof of the patio.

You spot Yanqing on the other side, his head laid on his father's arm as he slept peacefully.

Yeah, a few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.

usagi's note: hi yeah omg ao3 curse is real, i haven't been posting so consistently, i need to escape this curse somehow.

@usagiarchive 2024. do not repost, translate, or use for AI.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

WHIPPED

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary - You strain from your husband who will not give you attention. He doesn't like that.

Warnings - NONCON, domestic violence, dub con, manipulative, belt whipping, spanking, tommy is mean, degrading words, breeding kink.

Word count - 3k+

Notes - You voted, you received.

Something in Tommy’s intellect changed overnight. Every once in a while, his mind would travel back in time to the war. But now, when he awoke from his nightmares, he still felt like he was crawling through the tunnels. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up more frequently, his hand rested on his gun a lot. Feeling too skeptical that he’d need to fire it at any second. 

It had impacted your newly wedded marriage, but you didn’t dare to say anything to him. You showed you cared by holding him a little tighter at night. Whilst he laid on the bed like a stone figure, staring up into the ceiling as he refused to fall asleep. 

The sex had turned emotionless like flowers dying without water. The intimacy was dead. It made you down in the mouth and filled your heart with despair. You only wanted to kiss him, talk to him, be held by him. But he had forgotten who you were. 

Over the weeks, your sadness turned into anger. You refused to be upset by his neglect any longer. So, you found other ways to find pleasure in your life and quickly realized that the only way to get your husband’s attention was jealousy. It frustrated Tommy when you started to ignore his presence, venture out without informing him and associating with his family more than him. Tommy would lecture you, wagging his finger at you. You’d only simply nod your head, awaiting for it to be over. Then it would repeat all over again. But Tommy’s mind was too caught up in his business to find the time to truly teach you a lesson. 

Until now, the surprisingly last straw was Arthur whispering something into your ear, resulting in you playfully slapping his shoulder and giggling like a teenager. Tommy’s head snapped to you two, everyone in the reading room still watching Tommy as he awaited for you to acknowledge him. 

After a pause, you finally looked up to Tommy and the stare off commenced. Your eyebrows were furrowed as Tommy’s eyes twitched, he knew you had never been unfaithful. But his mind was now racing with thoughts of the possibility occurring if he didn’t put a stop to his behavior.  

“Well, we will have a break. It seems that my wife has forgotten her manners and I must reteach them…” Tommy declared confidently as he lit another cigarette between his cold lips. 

All heads snapped towards you and Arthur’s face turned beet red. 

“Thomas” you sighed as you pressed your hand to your forehead, cheeks turning a shade darker from embarrassment. 

Any other time, Tommy adored it when you called him by his full name. But this time, he felt as if you were challenging him, trying to humiliate him in front of his family. Tommy took three large strides towards the door and motioned for you to exit in an exaggerated manner. When you merely continued to stare back at him dully he snapped. 

“Get the fuck up!” Tommy raised his voice, causing everyone in the room to flinch. 

Tommy’s eyes were strained, a vein popped out of his forehead as his hands formed to fists. 

“Tommy” Arthur protested, leaning forward in his seat. 

Arthur was always so loyal to Tommy, but grew to be highly protective of you. He was prepared to cop the fire instead, take a beating if he had to. It was his doings anyways, not yours. 

“It’s alright Arthur” you soothed his guilty look, looking confident even though your heart was pounding in shock at your husband’s outburst. 

Tommy saw red when you reassuringly pressed your hand to his chest. Without waiting any longer he marched towards you. You jumped up from your seat before he could yank you up. But he still latched onto your bicep and pulled you out of the room with no care as you winced from his hold. 

“Tommy… You’re hurting me!” You cried as he pulled you up the stairs. 

There was no answer from him. Only the sounds of grunts through his hard expression as he led you to the bedroom. Shoving you into the room, Tommy slammed the door shut and stomped around in circles, his hand tugging at his roots as he heard the shouts and cries of his fallen fellow soldiers. Your arms crossed over your chest, a frustrated expression set on your face by glue. 

“Thomas you’re being dramatic” you pointed out, shaking your head at his behavior. The embarrassment had drenched you completely, he was too furious to notice how awful he had made the situation. 

Tommy’s head shot towards you and he glared at you. 

“Pardon? You parading yourself around my brother in front of my entire family is nothing more than me being dramatic!” Tommy roared as he marched towards you. “Why don’t you fucking respect me!” Tommy yelled, his pale skin now red as he grabbed onto your shoulders in a warning touch. 

His anger spattered onto you as you felt your chest tighten, you scoffed at his words, not intimidated by his hold on you. “Oh calm down Thomas!” You hissed at your husband. 

You fell to the fall before the pain even shot from your cheek. Before the redness even grew on your timid skin. You choked out in shock as you raised your hand to the burning sensation on your cheek. The back of Tommy's hand was still positioned in the air from where he hit you. Tommy had never hit you before, he had vowed to never do it. 

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down” Tommy growled.

Swiftly, he bent down to yank you back up to your feet. When you struggled against his hold and tried to smack him away he hit you again with the front of his hand this time. Then he hit the other cheek just as hard. You screamed out in fear but his hand was swift to smack over your mouth. 

“Who do you fucking think you are? Huh! You wear my name! You’re in my house!” Tommy lectured, shaking you around like a ragdoll before he shoved you back to the ground. 

Tommy went back to walking around in circles, his hand roughly massaged his chin as he wondered what to do with you. His disobedient wife. You laid on the floor, frozen in fear as you stared at his polished shoes twirling around the room. With your hands pressed against your stinging cheeks, tears shedded from your aching eyes. Your sobs were silent and rough. 

A heavy sigh left his lips as he looked down to you. Slowly, he undid his belt and slipped it out of the loops of his pants and folded it in half. Tommy fell back onto the brown leather armchair in the corner of the room and lightly slapped his belt against his knee. 

“Come here, lay over my knee my darling…” Tommy spoke in a soothing voice, but had a wicked grin on his lips. 

You looked up at him with fearful eyes, then your stare was stuck on his belt slapping against his pants. Knowing his intentions, you whimpered out pathetically and shook your head against the floor. 

“N-no” you objected weakly. 

“It wasn’t an offer” Tommy grunted, he leaned towards you, the grip on the leather tightened. “Do it before I show you how strong my foot is” Tommy warned, tapping his foot impatiently.

It took you a moment to get up, you were too busy having a little silent breakdown as you whined at his response. The smirk on his lips grew larger as he watched you gradually crawl towards him, wincing to yourself as you climbed up onto his lap and laid stiff on top of him. 

Tommy sighed as he pulled up your dress, his hand rubbed your ass briefly before he yanked down your panties to your knees. The leather brushed over your backside and you gripped onto his leg in fear as you sobbed quietly. 

“You seemed to have mistaken my kindness for weakness, my darling. I have no problem with showing you my ruthlessness, the many tales you heard of me before we had even met” Tommy explained as he dragged the belt all over your skin. 

“You’re scaring me Tommy” you sniffled out. 

The inside of your throat felt swollen and your chest ached. A harsh slap with the belt landed on your rear. It caused your panicky yelp to echo throughout the room. When you tried to impulsively wiggle yourself off of him he smacked you again with the leather. 

“You’ve lost your privileges to address me by my first name, correct yourself right now!” Tommy ordered, his hold on his belt tight as his free hand went around your back to keep you trapped. 

“Tom-uh Mr Shelby?” You answered unsurely, your expression wincing as your shoulders raised. 

“Good girl!” Tommy praised as the belt smacked against your rear again. 

You chortled out as he continued on with your punishment. Quickly, you lost count with how many times he hit you as he flicked his wrist in a haphazardly manner. Sometimes he’d focus purely on one cheek. Or do slow and heavy smacks across every inch of your skin. Then he’d do quick stings across your rear. 

“Please stop!” you begged, your voice dry and weak, your mouth pressed against his knee as you tried to muffle out your cries. 

“Aw, my darling can’t take it anymore eh?” Tommy chuckled. 

He dropped the belt onto your back and rubbed your tender backside with his bare hand roughly. 

“Please I love you Tommy!” you exhorted, desperately hoping this would ease his suspicions. 

The screech was piercing when he smacked your bruised skin wickedly with his palm. 

“Correct yourself, whore” Tommy spat. 

‘Ah! I love you Mr Shelby” you sobbed out. 

Your head fell back down to his knee, your teeth bit into his leg to silence yourself but he didn't mind. Surprisingly, the pain felt nice to him. 

“That’s a good girl…” Tommy grinned, rubbing your ass again roughly as if he was praising you. “I’m going to beat your ass beyond breaking point. Then I’ll know you’ve learnt your lesson” Tommy addressed. 

“No Mr Shelby please! I understand!” You protested as you squirmed over him. Tommy was quick to hold you on top of him as you tried to swing your body onto the floor. “Please forgive me! I won’t do it again!” You pleaded as you tried to blink back your tears.   

“Stay still before I hit you with the buckle!” Tommy threatened, his words hissing like a viper. 

You mewled out, but listened to his demand. Tommy picked up his belt again and proceeded to whip you with it. 

When your cries had died down and you laid still on him, Tommy dropped the belt to the ground and rubbed your black and blue rear. When his fingers rubbed against your slit, he grinned to himself as he brought them into his sight. They glistered in your fluid and he sucked his fingers clean, moaning to himself at your sweet taste. 

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one that enjoyed this”' Tommy commented as his fingers returned to your cunt, fondling with your folds and teasing your nerves by randomly pushing in a digit. “Have you learnt your lesson?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow to you. 

As you tried to turn your head back towards him, you nodded to him. “Yes Mr Shelby” you spoke out breathlessly. 

“Which is?” He questioned. 

You choked on your words as you blinked back your tears. “To be a good wife to you!”

“Such a good wife…” Tommy soothed as he caressed your bruised ass. “Stand up and strip for your husband” he instructed as he leaned back into his seat. 

Through gritted teeth, you stood on your two feet and slowly stripped till you were completely nude in front of him. Your body shook like a leaf in the wind as you resisted not to cover yourself with your arms. Tommy sighed to himself as he looked your heated figure up and down, and then he pulled out his length and gradually stroked himself a couple of times. Not failing to express how aroused he was through his groans. 

“Come here and sit on my cock eh?” 

“Mr Shelby please” you begged weakly, eyes stinging with discomfort. 

Tommy leaned forward and pointed his finger to you. “Shut up before I change my mind, bend you over and fuck your ass” he warned, his pointed finger completely still. 

You nodded your head like a begging dog and practically ran over to Tommy despite the pain that shot through your rear. You straddled your husband, his hands were on your hips as he grinned up to you, his cock pressed against your inner thigh. 

“Who do you belong to?” Tommy asked as his length pushed into your throbbing, soaked entrance. 

“You Mr Shelby!” You answered through a groan as you slid down his shaft. 

“Good… No more talking to anyone, at all, without my permission eh?” Tommy commanded with a resolute nod. All you could do was nod back as he rocked his hips against yours, his fingernails dug into your flesh as your walls squeezed his size. 

“Mr Shelby” you whined out. 

“You’re mine” Tommy growled animalistically as he leant in to bite your neck. “Only fucking mine. You wanted my attention? You fucking got it” he grunted as he rutted himself deep inside of you. 

Your eyes rolled back as you held onto your husband tightly as he drew blood from your neck. The pain dissolved as the pleasure quickly built up inside of your core. Your mouth had fallen open as you were moaning out shamelessly, Tommy slapped your ass and you squealed. 

“You’re clenching around me so tightly darling, you want to milk me empty eh? Get yourself pregnant?” Tommy asked, his own breathing heavy as he pounded himself into you. 

“Yes Mr Shelby!”

“Keep on squeezing me then, just like that” Tommy coached as his hips thrusted at an immaculate speed. “Maybe another baby in this house would keep you tamed. Let’s give Charlie a little brother or sister eh?” He suggested, a proud smirk on his lips.

All you could do was hum in compliance as you clenched around him. It was so slippery you had to hold your body in place. His balls were slapping against you as you felt your climax climbing as high as it could. The scream from your hot lips echoed throughout the room as you held onto Tommy for dear life. He grunted in response, and shortly followed through with his own climax. 

Your body fell dead on top of him as you tried to catch your breath back. Through deep breaths, your chest rose and fell as your eyes remained shut. Tommy breathed out, his hands caressed your lower back as he inhaled your scent. He was still buried inside of you, he could feel your fluids drip out slowly. 

“Fuck, that was something else, wasn’t it my love?” Tommy asked teasingly as he patted your rear. 

You whimpered, tear stained eyes as you looked up to your husband, he smiled softly to you, you smiled softly back. He guided your hips up, his coated cock slipped out of your swollen entrance with a pop and he helped you onto your feet. 

After he slipped his member back into his pants, Tommy guided you to bend over the bed, you winced as you followed through and he examined you. Down on his knees, Tommy pulled your lips apparent with two fingers as he watched your mixed fluids drip out of you. His hands caressed over your abused skin as he stood back up again.

“If only you could see how beautiful you look my dear” Tommy sighed, his voice dark and husky. 

He pulled you back up and held you in his arms, your flustered body caved against him. Your knees buckled as Tommy held your weak stance up, he murmured to you, his face rubbed against yours like a needy cat.  

“You wanna come down for the rest of the meeting?” Tommy hummed in the crook of your neck. 

The thought of you going back down there frightened you, the humiliation of this sudden occurrence felt too overwhelming. Having all eyes on you would cause you to have a breakdown without a doubt, you knew they heard you, your cries had echoed to the fields. 

“No Mr Shelby” you answered timidly, sniffling to yourself as you tried to cry silently. 

“That’s alright, you rest up, you look exhausted. I’ll come check on you later, I have some business to attend to after this, okay?” Tommy spoke innocently as he led you to the bed. 

Tommy helped you in, you winced at the friction of your rear to the sheets but made no comment to your husband’s kindness. The covers were tucked in around you, Tommy petted your hair to the side and smiled at you. 

“Thank you Mr Shelby” your smile shaked, cheeks still a dark shade of red. 

“Sleep well my love” Tommy whispered before he planted a tender kiss on your lips. 

It’s what you missed so badly, instinctively, your arms reached up from under the sheets and tried to snake around his back. But your body felt so weak, you couldn’t bring yourself up. Tommy hummed and pulled your body up, his hold on your lower back as the sheets slipped down your body already, his tongue slipped straight down your throat as your tongue massaged him. As you moaned directly into his mouth, Tommy pressed your faces together as he gently laid you back onto the bed. 

“I love you” you whispered once more as your head fell deep into the pillow, your tired eyes remained shut. A low hum echoed out of Tommy as you quickly fell asleep. 

Tommy walked back down into the reading room. He knew everyone had heard everything, his eyes locked with Arthur’s. As he shot him a glare, Arthur lowered his head submissively as Tommy continued on with his discussions and concerns to his family.

[affableramen]

who proposes first? according to this request. established relationship, fluffy fluff

Wriothesley: you should propose. This man is kinda shy when it comes to making something known and official between you two, and ultimately he is also the one worrying you may not love him as much he does you. He needs directness. When you propose him, he will become as red as a tomato, but without thinking twice he agrees, you even spot a few tears in his eyes!

Tartaglia: you propose to each other at the same day because you’re two mentally connected idiots in love. First you give it a good giggle knowing that only you two would have an awkward situation like this, and Tartaglia’s sense of humour spreads even to the marriage theme. It will be both romantic and laughable but you’ll remember this iconic moment for the rest of your lives. 

Neuvillette: definitely proposes first. He is a very family-oriented man, and he believes making you his wife officially will bring you two to another level of intimacy. And he just adores sharing domestic life with you. 

Pantalone: forgive me, but he is dumb at this point. Maybe that’s because he’s old he doesn't care about family much, but he will simply not propose first. He needs motivation to propose, like seeing someone trying to steal you off from him, or someone proposing to you instead. He needs to be jealous in order to come to the decision of marrying you. 

Capitano: proposes first but he is slow with it. He will watch you for a long time, making it 200% sure that you truly do love him. Because for him, letting you into his domestic life and literally share home with him, would mean that you have to bear seeing his scarred face every day, and he fears that a lot. His proposal is very romantic and almost brings you to tears as the man kneeling with completely flat expression asks you the question you have been waiting for a long while.

Dottore: nah you propose first. He is very focused on his job. Science, science, science every day he has literally no time to think about marriages and such. But if you finally gather your confidence and do propose him dammit, Dottore will melt and be an embarrassed, shaking mess for a few moments because he did not expect you to really love him to this point. He might isolate himself in the bathroom or any other closed room to figure his emotions because he has never felt more blessed. 

Alhaitham: he is the first to propose. It might take some time, but finally a moment comes when he collects his thoughts and goes on his knee to pull a wedding ring for you. He will be completely smitten and embarrassed at first, his voice will be shaking. But he is definitely a type to eventually get married to his s/o, since he was raised by his grandmother and grown into the man who knows big deal about traditions.

Dainsleif: you propose first, but he stops you and says that he is supposed to be the one doing that. He scolds himself for not thinking in advance. He recreates the scene, and this time he is the one proposing. When Dainsleif proposes, he has a completely serious, but at the same time soft expression on his face. Looking at him as he kneels, you realise that he is the man that will satisfy all your needs.

Baizhu: he 1000% proposes first. Trust me, Baizhu is a very responsible man and he approaches a long lasting relationship with huge responsibility too. It has been a while for him considering to propose you, but something was always holding him back. Before proposing, be will ask you once again if you truly do love him, if you are ready to bear this feable pharmacist who chose the life of suffering in order to heal people. Once you confirm that again, he will kiss you so deeply and present you the wedding ring. 

[coff33andb00ks]

62 & 74 with lando please 👉👈🥹

driver + number = drabble <3

"I'm just so tired" / "this is a nightmare"

The city lights are a kaleidoscope of colors through the rain-spattered windows of the car. You let your head lean against Lando's shoulder as he drives and hear his soft chuckle. "I'm just so tired," you murmur apologetically.

He squeezes your hand. "I know. Kept you out past your bedtime, sorry."

A giggle escapes as he parks his car. It is past your usual bedtime and you wish your sleep schedules were more aligned. But it seems the universe has a sick sense of humour, pairing you with a man who's fine on just a few hours of sleep while you need at least eight hours to be a functioning human.

Upstairs in your apartment your cat is yowling, obviously starved and abandoned, and Lando lavishes affection on the spoiled brat while you refill his food dish – he has food, he's just mad because the bowl is showing – and when you shuffle to your bedroom to change into your pajamas Lando's sat on the floor next to the cat, stroking him while he eats.

"I know, mate, this is a nightmare," he says consolingly. "Poor neglected thing."

You scoff and his laugh follows you into the bedroom.

He follows you a few moments later, your 'neglected' cat dancing figure eights around his ankles and you sleepily marvel that the grouchy old man loves Lando so much. Lando scoops him up to set him on the bed, still murmuring softly to him and you fall a little more in love with him yourself.

"Alright if I shower?" he asks and you nod.

You're still getting used to the ease of this domestic intimacy. You know that tomorrow you'll find his bracelets on your bathroom counter after he leaves. There's already a tiny corner of one of your drawers dedicated to the t-shirts he's left, and just last week you finally bought his preferred body wash so he won't have to grumble about smelling like a bakery.

He pops his head out of the bathroom, grinning at you. "You didn't have to buy me soap."

You shrug, feeling your cheeks burning a little. "You always fuss about my stuff…"

"But I like smelling like you," he says before going back into the bathroom.

You're blushing. Giggling softly. If you were sitting or lying down you'd be kicking your feet. He's always saying things like that so offhandedly, like he instinctively knows the words that'll reduce you to a schoolgirl with her first crush.

When he comes out you're in the bed, your cat in his usual spot on the other pillow. He gives Lando a squeaking meow and slowly moves so Lando can lie down, plopping in the space between you.

"This is nice," Lando murmurs into the darkness once he's turned off the light and settled next to you.

"It is," you agree. It's nice and lovely and still a little new, and you're still not used to feeling like you have to offer sex after a night out.

"G'night, love," he whispers.

You grin against your pillow. "Good—"

"Sorry, talking to the cat."

[lov3rmir]

LOVE SIGN !

CONTENT INVOLVE

✦ — summary: domestic moment with genshin men. al-haitham / kinich / neuvillette. ✦ — cw: mention of injuries (kinich) ⁞ suggestive (neuvillette) ⁞ ajaw being an opp ⁞ mentions of intimacy but nothing nsfw (neuvillette) ⁞ 1.3k wc ⁞ just testing some layouts ⁞ not proof read we die like tingyun ⁞ a ref to a manhwa (neuvillette).

AL-HAITHAM — SLEEPING IN.

The morning’s sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains. Two sleeping figures were tangled in a mess of blankets. 

Al-haitham’s arms encircled around your waist, pressing your back further in his chest. Soft snores coming off you as he sleepily admires you. Your eyelashes resting on your cheeks, fluttering just the slightest as you begin to awake. 

He only continues to stare, his eyes often glancing down at your lips. He leans in closer, until your lips ghostly touch his. He presses a kiss in the corner of your lips, moving up to your cheeks. All while you stir and struggle to wake up. 

“G’morning love”, he whispers against your skin. His hands kneading at your hips, drawing odd shapes and pinching you when you start to fall back asleep. 

You groan, shifting to face him. He lets you, loosening his grips until you comfortably hide yourself in the crook of his collarbone. “Mornin’...” you groggily greet. Your own hands pushing him back into you. He was comfortable.

Al-haitham chuckles, adoring you even more. “You’re adorable.” 

You enjoy these moments. 

Moments where you get to experience the softer side of Al-haitham. The side which only you are privileged to see. Contrary to the usual snarky remarks his mouth breathes, soft words laced with un-denying love and affections spill out whenever you are in the privacy of your home.

You hum, almost melting into him. 

Until he ruined the moment, “You need to get up, you have work, remember?”

“Al-haitham!! Who cares, I’ll call in sick and spend the day with you in bed.”

“Seems like a good plan.”

Even though he will never admit it, Al-haitham loves moments like these. Maybe skipping work is worth it if it means he gets to hold you more.

KINICH — COOKING TOGETHER.

“Ingredients?” hands on your hips, you smiled at Kinich. 

“There.” He jabbed his thumb towards the row of ingredients.  “Did you go blind when you woke up?” Always the extra comment with Ajaw.

“Aprons?” Ignoring the flying pixels, you continued on with your checklist. Kinich looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the ‘Kiss the cook’ apron you were currently wearing. “Check.” 

“No it’s not! You aren’t wearing yours!” turning around you reached for the bright pink apron resting on the counter. And just as you walked closer to Kinich, the latter took a step back. This continued on until he was back to back with the wall. 

An obvious displeased expression could be seen. He eyed the apron as though it just killed his family. “No.” 

“Come on, it'll be funny! ” you pushed the apron on his face. Giving him your best convincing smile. “Pretty please?” batting your eyelashes at him, trying to muster up a kicked-puppy look that will push him to wear the apron. 

Kinich groaned as he took the apron from your hands, looking between it and your pleading eyes. And with a defeated sigh, he put it on. 

You had to admit it clashed on him. Suppressing your laugh, you regretted not bringing a kamera to capture the moment. 

“Simp!” Ajaw wheezed at the sight of Kinich's serious face clashing with the bright pink apron. His pixelated body was twirling as he couldn't stop the laughs from escaping him. “You look so dumb! Maybe you should add a frilly hat and say in a cutesy tone ‘of course master!’ C’mon say it with me! Of course mas—” Ajaw didn’t have the time to finish his sentence before he was shoved into the oven, Kinich turning on the heat.

“Hey wait, you aren’t actually going to cook him?”

Kinich only stared dead in the eye, “I always wanted to taste dragon's meat. Do you think it will have a trash type of taste? Considering this dragon I won’t be surprised.” 

With no hesitation, Kinich slowly turned up the heat in the oven. “You ungrateful scum! How dare you do this to your almighty dragon! Hey– Kinich! Let me out, it’s getting hotter!” 

The distress calls were muffled, but you could hear Ajaw clearly. (with his normal volume, you bet you could still hear him even from miles away.) Exasperated, you sighed. Placing your hands on Kinich’s shoulder, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, let him out, I’m sure he learned his lesson.” 

“Another.” he muttered, “Huh?” What did he want? More of what?. “Another kiss and I’ll let him out.” blinking twice, a giggle erupted. You held his face in your hands, bringing him closer to you. Your lips finally on his. Kinich savored the moment. Ignoring the distant cries of the annoying pixel.

He already turned off the oven, it’s fine if you stayed like this for a while. No?

NEUVILLETTE — BATHING & GOSSIP.

The Ludex has many duties. Some leave him with a heavy burden to carry. Many times has the Ludex questioned the very foundation of justice. Many times Neuvillette wished the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale would deliver a different judgment. 

Neuvillette was convinced if he didn’t have you by his side, archons knew how crazy he would have turned. 

But he had you. He had you to sooth his cries in the midst of the night, he had your sweet voice whispering words of love— lulling him back to sleep. Neuvillette had you to anchor him. And he will forever be grateful to have met you.

Another way you used to relax him, was coaxing him into taking a bath together. 

He had been intimate with you many times. But somehow, taking a bath with you felt more. . .emotional. 

Not the sexual intimacy you often experienced whenever the mood was right, no. This was more.

And his belief was reinforced as your fingers combs through his hair. Shampoo being gently massaged on his scalp. The Hydro dragon caught himself falling asleep too much he had lost count. 

But could anyone blame him? Neuvillette was smitten by you.

“Enjoying yourself, handsome?” Has he mentioned how sweet your voice was? Neuvillette feels as though he mentioned it too little. Leaning into your touch, the man hummed, “I would die before I ever not enjoy your touch my love.” 

“Ever the charmer, maybe you could give a few tips to Maxwell.” you giggled, recounting about Maxwell who sucked at flirting with his crush. Neuvillette could recite every rumor that circled around in society in the past months. 

You always kept him updated, sometimes barging in his office during working hours (he never minds. He actually thanked you for giving him a breathing moment to forget about all the paperwork and trials.) retelling how you overheard a couple recently broke up due to one of the partners cheating and taking all the money their partner gained through hard labor.

(“You might want to expect a case about this! And promise me when you do, give me ALL the details!”) 

Neuvillette finds himself indulging your little hobby. Giving you small details from cases and moments during trials. 

(“About the cheating scandal from last week, apparently the one he cheated on with was the step-sister of his girlfriend. And what more, the step-mother was the one behind the money stealing.”

“No way!! Poor girl, I hope she is better now..”

“Oh she is. I checked up on her earlier this week and she had found a better man. Black hair and red eyes. As for her family and partner, the step-sister is currently working as a maid and the step-mother was charged with murder of her deceased husband and attempted murder of her step-daughter. ”

“Gasp! Oh you have to tell me everything that went down!”)

Neuvillette was content with indulging you, but he was happier to listen to your sweet voice. 

“Love, could you tell me more about your day? Or just anything will do. I would like to hear your voice more.” you chuckled quickly agreeing and going on a tangent. 

The Ludex was lucky to have you. 

©— lov3rmir. 2024

[wttcsms]

baby, oh baby ; satoru gojo

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader word count 1.2k synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling). content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance

Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet. 

Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even. 

He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.

“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.

“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.” 

“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.

“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!” 

“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.” 

“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner. 

“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”

He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.” 

You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.

“Do you feel a bit better now?” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does. 

His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks. 

“What’s bothering you?” 

You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones. 

“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration. 

“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others. 

“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.

At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest. 

“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”

“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?” 

“Well, we’ll be the exception.”

“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.” 

Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much. 

“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”

“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!” 

“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you. 

“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud. 

You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.” 

“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”

“You’re going to say something corny.” 

“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?” 

Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this. 

(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)