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#but its more a domestic vibe

painsandconfusion · 11 months

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Hi! Love your writing!!

If it's not too much and you have time and want to, could you do a scene with an intimate whumper who's teasing whumpee for being scared?

Thank you!!!! (NO PRESSURE)

This is gorgeous. Yes. I love this prompt. Rip the other asks in my box, I have spoons for this.

Why Are You Scared?

(tw: intimate whumper, noncon touch, forced massage, forced comfort, implied abuse)

[Drabble Masterpost]

Whumpee flinched as the corner of their vision registered Whumper standing in the doorway.

Just...watching.

Predatory gleam in their eyes.

Whumpee swallowed thickly, grabbing the remote to turn their show to half mute. "...h-i uh...you.....wanna watch too...?"

Whumper's eyes raked down over them as they took a step closer. "I am watching."

Whumpee chewed on their lip, nodding as they turned the volume back up. "...do you...w-anna...sit on the couch...?"

"Mmmno. No, I'm good standing."

Whumpee's skin tingled - hairs on the back of their neck prickling up as Whumper prowled behind the couch to watch over their shoulder. Whumper's hands slid over the back of the couch, still out of view bust rustling against fabric nonetheless.

Whumpee flickered as warm breath brushed behind their ear. "Why are you so jumpy?"

Whumpee's fingers tangled together in their lap. "I...I wasn't trying t-...m'sorry-"

A soft whimper pressed from their throat as warm hands slithered over their shoulders, kneading gently into knotted muscle. It sent a shudder down their spine, pressing their entire body tighter in on itself.

"Just watch your show. You earned it."

Whumpee's lips pressed tight together, but they forced their eyes to stay glued on the screen as they gave Whumper a small nod. "Y-es sir."

Whumper hummed, continuing the slow massage. After a moment, they found a knot and prodded at it, rolling their thumb in hard circles around it until Whumpee was whimpering.

Whumper chuckled. "Did you break a rule, sweetheart?"

White fuzz scattered across Whumpee's mind. They shoved down the spark of panic and the burning of their eyes. "I...I d-onn't think so-??"

Whumper hummed in amusement, leaning in. Whumper's words brushed hot against the shell of their ear. "Then why are you so scared~?"

[Drabble Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

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the-kipsabian · 11 months

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I think the way you write emotions in your fics is lovely, and I like reading them back when I have a bit of time. But the ones I liked the best were your Chris/Drew fics. They’re just uncomplicated domesticity with my new favorite idiots and that really appeals to me. And there’s little hints of what life is like beyond the bounds of what’s in the writing itself! Snippets of a live being lived offscreen, told through the setting. I read any of your fics and I can start filling in a background from the bits that give the fic color. Like when you put a drop of watercolor on a wash and it spreads out, if that makes sense. They stick with me, at any rate.

ive been holding this in my inbox since yesterday, like.. this is the absolute cutest thing anyone has ever said oh my god?? i havent never really thought about it like that, like the sprinkles of lives lived outside the edges of the fic, thats.. thats such a good way to put it i never really thought it comes through? i dont think ive fully consciously tried to make it come through?? so gosh this means so much thank you ;; 💜💜

#also yes! the chris/drew stuff so far has been very just domestic vibes so im glad its hitting with someone!#i have at least two more coming with them at some point i just gotta finish them. honestly this might be the push i needed for them 👀#anyways this is so precious thank you so much 💜#xoxo #pascal-wehrlein #thank you for asking! <3

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mejomonster · 1 year

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Thank you priest for writing lots of epic length slow burns

Thank u Silent Reading for a slow burn that takes like a third a novel to flirt, half a novel to date, three fourths to hook up, four fifths to actually be (relatively) honest and confess some bigger heavy stuff (and for fei du to propose with a quickly made ring) and im on the last fifth now but I expect more reveals to come. Thanks for a slow burn that was half during their actual romance so the buildup of trust and development didn't stall once "together." Thanks for making them "love rivals" at the start so they're not flirting exactly, but they're competitively flirting and will go onto continue doing fighting/competitive flirting for the rest of their lives so its a fun transition from their mutual crush to each other (and also gives a fun opponent/enemies vibe that never totally goes away and even 4/5 in when fei du admits most things, there's the undercurrent feeling they'll never truly be able to see eye to eye in the same world as each other and just have to adjust to learning what the others perception is when they can)

#silent reading #lb #zhoudu #this might sound odd but zhoudu remind me of xena and gabrielle a LOT #because ones older and ones a mentor of Goodness and ones hellbent on revenge by any means #fei du may (depends on when and whats compared) have a more fucked up childhood than xena but he also killed less #and theres other differences #but stuff like the domestic vibe. the mutually flirty boss vibe. the mentor and mentee of each other in different aspects #the acclimatjng on how to love someone who loves YOU back but whos otherwise morality is simply NEVER going #to be the same as yours no matter how they change #cause their world is just fundamentally different #(id argue until gabrielle kills to protect xena in her pacifist arc she is not fully seeing #the worldview xena has as Warrior as HER path and THE way to protect loved ones.#beforw that gabrielle tries being a bard being a pacifist even eventually a spiritually avoiding harm belief.#but once she crosses That line for her loved one? shes done what xenas done forcmany years #killed for someone she loved or thinking in some way itd help or protect ppl she feltcresponsible for)#well luo wenzhou and fei du dont have that kind of scene yet. luo wenzhou Cant fully see why someone would #have fei dus moral view and driving his actions #fei du hasnt killed anyone. but perceprions wise Anything is justified for revenge and protecting #the innocent caught up in messes. and its just a Different basic perspective of the world ans how to interact #its very xena x gabrielle to me in 2 very different ppl also making a home together theyd Only be able to have together

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paint-music-with-me · 2 years

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This movie hasn't even come out yet but I am thriving in the chaotic potential it has as a Steddie AU.

It's called Ticket to Paradise and its premise is: divorced couple go to their only child's wedding and try to sabotage it due to their own insecurities about why they got married to begin with.

Listen I know it sounds weird but idk I love it? It's very exes to lovers trope and I love the trailer!

Now hear me out:

It's years down the line, I wanna say, maybe Dustin is in his early 20s right? He decides to marry Suzie for sake of plot.

He moved out of Hawkins for college, while Steve is stuck where he is. So that distance is felt and it makes Steve feel like shit though he tries to push it aside.

Meanwhile Dustin made a new friend called Eddie in college. Obvi, D&D club. Ofc Dustin gushes about Eddie to Steve and Steve obvi gets a bit jealous.

So lo and behold, Dustin sends a wedding invitation to Steve, out to Hawaii or some tropical paradise, ok? And ofc Dustin names Steve as his best man yay! And he's also sharing that title with Eddie so there's that. (Steve tries not to dwell on that a bit)

When Steve arrives, he gets all ready to meet this Amazing Eddie Munson that he's heard so much about. And when he actually meets him?

Boom! He was a goner! Absolute love at first sight....though he won't ever admit it because oh wow, Eddie is a bit of a firecracker.

He won't lie, Steve does feel a bit out of place. Dustin has these new friends and he can still get in groove with everyone from Hawkins. Steve feels like it's already an honor to be named Best Man, he didn't need to be vying for Dustin's attention. He can't help but fade in the background until

Eddie just won't let Steve be alone. They get into all kinds of messes around the island! One time when Steve wanted to swim in a secret pool he found in the tropics out of the resort, obvi Eddie followed - it was full of leeches. Another time they were supposed to do a scavenger hunt - they got lost. When they had to do a performance for the bride and groom, they accidentally threw a shoe at the DJ and knocked them out (they didn't perfect their choreography).

Bottom line is that this wedding was the most fun that Steve had in a long time. All the feelings of inadequacy and loneliness faded when he was with Eddie.

Maybe - just maybe - coming to Dustin's wedding alone wasn't going to be the downer fest he thought it would be.

#as if its not enough that ive got a bazillion st*ddie fics completed on ao3 #but like u dnt understand - i need more #idk why but like i need to consume until i am literally nothing #like once i finish this one fic - i am diving straight into angsty time fix-its #and i am shaking with fear and excitement - like i usually hate time loops but #the PROSPECT OF STEVE TRYING TO SAVE EDDIE ONLY TO FAIL SO MANY TIMES TIL HE BREAKS DOWN CRYING ??? WOW WHAT AN EMOTION - BREAK ME!#but then i want to read more vampire!eddie fics #but then i want more fluffy fics #but then i want fluffy found family domestic vibes where the kids meddle with their dads to actually get together #ughhhh #and then i may want to reread some fics omggg #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #dustin henderson #blabber time #please ignore me #but also dont - validate me please

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

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Hey @ everybody who said they wanted to read this!

It's out now!!! Enjoy!!!

idk if anybody wanted to be tagged so i'm gonna do it anyway for the people who said for sure that they wanted to read it and feel embarrassed about tagging them later

@stopstealingtomatoes @destinyisagift @bring-the-storm @teengage-miss-frizzle

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

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come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.

it’s beautiful.

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!”

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it.

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.”

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

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justporo · 8 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons on what Astarion and Tav's home would look like? :)

You bet, I do! But I put some more thought into it over the day so may I present you with:

Domestic headcanons about what Tav's and Astarion's home in Baldur's Gate would look like

After your adventures and some looting of certain castles you go to buy a small but luxurious townhouse in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate - probably criminally under its actual worth but you two are just so convincing, aren't you?

Dark wooden floors, high windows (with thick brocade curtains of course), wrought-iron balcony and fence - it's giving gothic and dark academia but in a homey and warm way

Soft lighting everywhere, lots of candles and candelabra, a fire place of course and oil lanterns that make every room feel warm and cozy

Astarion has impeccable taste and enjoys a bit of decadence (of course) and really finds joy in picking out furniture and decorations - he's going for noble, rich, palace-y, posh vibes, but tasteful

Also Tav would stop him from going overboard - she's not used to all the pompous stuff and cares more about the pracitcality of it all; also she's definitely the one who brings in some plants and greenery; also some nice stuff for Scratch because I'm sure Tav would insist on being the one to keep him

When Tav says she'd rather likes it simple tho... "Simple, love? Everyone can have simple, but not just anyone can have beautiful!" "So... you are not denying that beautiful means more complicated?" "No, but isn't that also why you chose me after all? Because I'm intricately complicated and incredibly beautiful?" Can't argue with that logic

Tav's also focused on making it cozy though and especially creating comfy little corners where they can just lounge together: like a little alcove to sit and read or look out the window or some pillows on the wood floor so you can sit in front of the fire place

There's a chaise-longue somewhere in the house - maybe in the incredibly over-sized dressing room, so Astarion can lay on it and watch Tav dress

DEFINITELY NO MIRRORS - no need to remind Astarion of that particular part of his condition; also why would he need it if you can tell him how beautiful he is everyday?

There's also a piano (as we have learnt before *wink*) and lots of books and trinkets and artworks - Astarion likes all stuff having to do with arts

It might be messy, at least at the beginning, you're both not used to having and holding onto stuff, also Astarion's desperately trying to find himself - that comes with creative chaos

Is there even a need to mention the bed is huge? And also has very much cliché dark red silk sheets? But it's probably the piece of furniture where you spend the most of your nights, not only for mingeling but just sitting and laying there, reading, drawing, talking, teasing each other

Also at some point you'd probably get a joint portrait but you don't want it to be too stiff and regal rather wanting it to show how much joy you give each other

The kitchen is to spoil Tav: when Astarion finds out you enjoy cooking and are pretty skilled at it he gets you all the best equipment he can find - even though you don't know how to use half of it - yet

Oof, I could maybe keep going some more... Thanks for the message, it was fun to think about this. (Also I know I might be swinging between medieval and more victorian vibes but hush, it's a fictional world where everything is possible) Also I knew I wouldn't yet do requests - but really that was just me putting something out there I already thought about. And I'll do some requests soon!

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brujaluas · 3 months

Text

How will your future spouse treat you in bed? +18

PILE 1

is a very unstable person in bed, likes to do things everywhere, likes quick sex, might like to get you pregnant. If they are a man, he may be big and strong, participating in some type of sport or practice that requires use of your body, so prepare yourself for strong sex in some way, can use vibrators, penetration and more penetration. It can be shy sex at first, this person needs to heal from something and at some point you need to connect because there may be a loss of connection because the person feels lost.

PILE 2

wow, I feel a very different vibe. you are very different from each other, there may be a difference in age (attention, if you are a very young person, rethink staying with that person, don't force yourself or feel pressured to want to satisfy that person just because they have more experience , everything has its time, don't force yourself to do things you don't want to do, listen to me). Well, one of you could be a virgin, I see more from the people who are reading here, you can lose your virginity on your honeymoon, or at home. it will be something very domestic the first time, but this person has strong masculine energy, is a dominator and likes to make that clear, so the first time, this person will do everything calmly and simply, nothing too intense so as not to scare you but if Get ready because they really like domination games, don't like losing, like to always be on top, but it could be fun to see you trying other things.

PILE 3

is a very sensual person and you are too, or you will learn to be with coexistence or vice versa, jealous sex, makeup sex, you may like quick sex, don't like pre-elimination, it's complicated to explain, it's as if everything changes the all times, this person is quite hurried and a little unstable, so I can't capture much of their energy, they may not have that many experiences.

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pigeonpeach · 4 months

Text

Heart of the Hearth

Aka Arlecchino Husbandry continued.

Summary: your baby daddy Arle puts a ring on your finger

Cw: none really. Fluff and domestic vibes all the way. Baby Lynette and Lyney plus Freminet but they snoozing. Fem reader.

Its a cold winter outside of Fontaine currently. You’ve decided to spend the night as you doubt you’ll make it home in this weather. Luckily your boss has given you a room of your own separate from the kid’s rooms. But you won’t make it there as for the first time ever little Lynette is cuddling with you. She lays her little head on your lap like a sleepy kitten as she dozes off into a pleasant dream. Lyney sleeps on your other thigh, drool trickling down his cheeks as you shut his mouth so he won’t stain his pajamas. Little Freminet sleeps nearby snuggling with Lyney. The domestic scenery further melting your heart more than the fireplace could. You however were awake for one simple reason:back pain. You and the kids were in the living room where you had originally been talking off their ears in a attempt to help them sleep only for you to become their pillow. If it was just Lyney you would have picked them both up and carried them to the bunk beds but little Lynette looked to cute to disturb and so you resigned to be a pillow.

The wind outside is howling but you trust the windows hold strong. The Knave should be in her office as usual. You don’t have the ability to check if she’s fallen asleep at her desk again. But the door opens as her high heels click down the stairs to your room. You fix your hair slightly as she opens the door.

“You’re not in your room? Is the mattress not to your standards?” She asks. Her eyes are typically cold and calculating, but right now you notice a different glint in them, not one you’ve seen before. A glint of pride or surprise perhaps as he spots the slumbering children.

“They couldn’t sleep so I took them here so they wouldn’t wake the others. And then they fell asleep on me.” A polite smile graces your lips. You notice her gaze soften seeing Lynette move briefly to be closer to you as she snores lightly. You notice a small smile on her face. Not too noticeable. She crouches down to examine Lynette.

“It appears you’re a more comfortable bed to them.” She says brushing some hair out of her face, giving a gentle scratch to her ears which flicker in response.

“I was quite surprised too. Its why I haven’t moved. I just didn’t want to ruin it for her.”

Arlecchino humms as she looks up at you. “You seem uncomfortable though. Why is that?”

“O-oh.. just my back. Its been a real pain recently.” You nervously say.

“Why is that?” She says as she stands up, still examining you. Her gaze isn’t as intimidating as it usually is. You notice her demeanor is different too. She isn’t just her for business or professional purposes. She deliberately left her office to look for you. Her hair is also down, no longer tied. She circles to behind the couch.

“Well.. I’m not sure. It could just be stress or maybe I’ve bent over too much.” You say. Lyney shuffles a bit, humming as he adjusts himself to a more comfortable position while still asleep. You rest your hand on his head to pat him gently.

“You certainly look more stressed than usual. You haven’t even changed out of your uniform into your pajamas.” She comments.

“Well truth be told I couldn’t sleep either. I felt like I forgot something to do.”

She humms as your nerves jolt at her hands suddenly landing gently on your shoulders. Her pals digging into the muscles of your collar like a massage. You blush taken off guard.

“M-mi-“

“Shh.” She says gently. “You will wake the children. If you get too worked up.”

“Sorry… I just..”

“Is it unpleasant for you? Its a bit difficult with my nails.” She comments. You shake your head.

“I’m just surprised. You’ve been so… soft to me lately And I just don’t understand why?”

Another hum as he continues with the massage. “You are important here, these children are easier to manage with you around. They admire you very much so. Is it wrong for me to care for the mother of my children?” She says. The way she says mother sends a shiver down your spine. You hadn’t seen your dynamic like that, a mother and father. But she was right.

“A m-mother.. oh I’m just a caretaker I’m sure I’m not that important.” You say attempting to be more humble and calm.

“Hmm not so. Little Lynette wouldn’t rest on the lap of a simple caretaker. They came to you when they were distressed. They also do, all of my children come to you when i am not available. You sing them lullabies and wipe their tears and you kiss their scars. You are the only mother they have here. Of course they would treasure you. And so should I.” Her voice sends more tingles down your spine. Her voice is deep, it sounds powerful but soft. Devoted but strong. “You are the mother to my children, you are very important to me.” There’s no room for debate on that matter. She’s clear with how she sees you. You gulp as you blush even more so.

“Y-you’re right on that matter.. but its such a…weird concept…”

“Weird?” She pauses. “How so?”

“We-well its just that it almost sounds like we’re married when you say it like that. I’m only your employee.” You say nervously. You look up at her as you notice that look in her eyes which makes you forget to breathe. Her eyes hold a passion and devotion you had previously not seen before. There’s also this sense that she’s holding back. Her fingers leave your shoulders and grip the edge of the couch. Her nails likely leaving a scratch.

“Is that idea something you’re uncomfortable with?”

“Maybe not.” You say quietly, averting your gaze. She smiles as she can sense your heart racing as her hands return to your collar. She notices how you seem to almost move to meet her touch.

“Excellent.” Her voice is almost like a purr. She presses a kiss to the nape of your neck making you blush.

“I’ll get you the finest of rings then. And we’ll start on preparations for the wedding tomorrow after my 12 o clock meeting, but for now.” Her hands trails to your right as she slides one of her own rings onto your ring finger. “This will do.”

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #arlechinno genshin #domestic fluff #arlecchino is so hot please step on me #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #pls come home now arlecchino #arlecchino #arlecchino my husband i love her so much #wlw

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whimsyfinny · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x reader smut #Dean Winchester x you smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Note

alright. in your profesh opinion bcos my brain kept going back n forth

jj and rafe being called "dad" vs "daddy"

do they both like both, or one over the other, is one of them a firm no. like what are the vibes here

the professional has arrived take a seat get comfy cuddle a throw pillow.

like what we discussed on your blog, you start calling jj dad and it’s kinda like a fun silly little joke yk ?? like yeah this is dad <3 he tells me what to do ! <3 and jj is just like ok girlie whatever u want idc. and honestly, he’s fine with dad domestically just in your day to day life. but when you fuck, he prefers daddy. he’s a little more simple as a man, and daddy is just more sexual to him. you’re a long term future investment to him, yk? he wants to actually give you kids one day (so does rafe but his pea brain doesn’t go too far ahead) so he wants to kinda keep that separate to sex probably .

rafe is the opposite. he looooves “daddy” domestically. wants you to call him daddy infront of his friends when you bring his drink over from the golf cart, say “stoppp daddy” infront of barry when he manhandles you a little too hard to sit still, even smile sweetly n say “thank you daddy” when he taps his card at the nail salon infront of the lady who did them….. but the minute things heat up….. its just easier for him to shorten the word yk! “y’gonna fuckin’ listen to dad next time or what, huh?” all aggressive in your ear whilst he pounds you from the back, holding your face in his grip. likes it when you clamber all over him after a party, drunk and loose, slurring out a “c’n i have it please, dad?” even just a simple “hi dad” against his mouth when he joins you in the shower, him leaving a big wet smooch against ur mouth <3

#hanasnx #rafe cameron prompt #jj maybank prompt

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