#im such a sucker for domestic fluff

[betweenblackberrybranches]

RLGL au guys getting ready to go out on a date♡

My favourite throuple

[saetoshi]

sae is bad with timezones.

whenever he goes on a trip because of football he always forgets he’s not in your timezone.

it’s why you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to your phone ringing right next to your pillow, his name lighting up the screen.

“hey.” his voice is almost enough to make you smile. (almost. you’re still too sleepy.)

you stifle a yawn, “hi.”

“hi.” you can practically feel his smile.

a sleepy huff of laughter slips past your lips, “you already said that.”

“i know,” he sounds a little breathless, you note, “i just like greeting you.”

a smile blooms on your lips when he says that, your heart skipping a beat. you hide your face in your pillow, shying away as if he could see you.

you turn your attention to your phone when you faintly hear him plop down on his bed with a groan.

“you would not believe the morning i had,” he huffs.

“was it bad?” you bite back a yawn, stretching out on the bed.

you frown when he lets out a deep sigh, “it was worse than i would’ve liked.”

“i couldn’t get coffee because there was this huge line at this café i like, so i barely had any energy to do anything,” a fond smile tugs at your lips when you picture the pout on his lips.

your brows knit in confusion. “i thought your manager got your coffee?”

a dry laugh leaves sae’s lips, “here’s where my morning gets worse. he was busy because i had an interview.”

your face scrunches up, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “yikes.”

“yikes.” sae echoes back, laughing. “i think you can imagine how that went.”

“yeah,” you sleepily laugh, “i feel bad for the poor people who had to interview you.”

“hey!” a drowsy smile tugs at your lips when you hear the mock offense in his voice.

you yawn, “so your interview just ended?”

he hums, “i came back to the hotel as soon as i could.”

“really?” your eyes start to droop.

“yeah,” you can hear his smile, “i wanted to hear your voice.”

your face flushes. you reach out to grab sae’s pillow and hold it close to your chest, hiding your face in it.

“shut up,” you mutter. your eyes flutter closed, a yawn slips past your lips.

he laughs, “how was your morning?”

sae frowns when you don’t reply.

your eyes snap open when he calls out your name. “yeah?”

there’s a pause. you frown in sleepy confusion, “sae?”

“i woke you up again, didn’t i?” his voice comes out soft, almost as if he feels guilty for having woken you up again.

(again, because he’s not used to not being in your timezone. again, because the fact that you’re miles away and not a train ride away always slips his mind.)

you sheepishly laugh, “you did.”

your heart swells with fondness when you picture his face flushing in embarrassment.

“sorry,” he awkwardly coughs.

“it’s fine.” you whisper, a teasing smile lifting the corners of your lips, “i wanted to hear your voice, too.”

you bury your face into sae’s pillow, laughing when sae mutters a soft and very bashful, ‘shut up.’

a yawn slips past your lips and you nuzzle into sae’s pillow, a small smile on your face when you note his lingering scent.

“you should go to sleep.”

you let out a confused hum, tilting your head to the side.

a huff of amused laughter leaves sae’s lips, “you should go back to sleep.”

“i don’t wanna leave you alone, though.” you pout.

“and i don’t wanna keep you up any longer,” he hums.

you frown, yawning. “i can stay up a little longer.”

“i’d rather you didn’t,” he sounds reluctant. like he doesn’t want you to leave. (you really wish he was next to you right now.)

“i miss you.” your voice is laced with longing, sae’s pillow scrunched up against your frame as you clutch it tighter to you in a poor attempt to pretend it’s actually sae.

“i miss you too.” sae’s voice is barely above a whisper. you wonder if he’s also holding on to a pillow, pretending it’s you.

“i wish you’d come home now.” you mumble, eyes drooping as sleep tightens its grip around you.

you can feel sae’s smile through the phone, “me too.”

there’s a small pause before sae speaks again. “seriously, though, go sleep.”

you frown, “are you kicking me out already?”

“i don’t want to,” he laughs, “but i’d hate for you to not get enough sleep because of me.”

“you’ll miss me, though,” you pout. (he doesn’t say it, but you’re right. he will miss you. even if he knows you’ll call him as soon as you wake up.)

“go sleep,” he insists, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you try to stifle yawn, “can you stay until i fall asleep?”

your eyes flutter closed, a content smile on your lips when you hear him hum.

“i can even stay until you wake up again.” he teases.

“would you really?” your voice is laced with sleep.

you don’t see it, but there’s a big grin on sae’s face. “yeah.”

so he does.

(and he doesn’t mention it, but he’ll stay with you for as long as you let him.)

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Dad Chifuyu Matsuno x Mom Reader: Pet Adoption Day ft. Baji and Kazutora (unedited) TW: Kids and pregnancy WC: 1300+ s/n =sons nameMINORS DNI 18+

Chifuyu was a big supporter of the pet shelters and wanted to help out in any way he could. Donating items even helping out when he could. Ever so often his shop would host pet adoption days to help shelter animals find their forever homes. Today's pet adoption day was a little bit different. Peke J  being mischievous as he is, would leave for a day or two and then come back home. Chifuyu would scold him but it seemed to go out one ear and out the other. Chifuyu decided to follow Peke J when he was leaving the home. He walked into a small alley next to a large trash can where a few cardboard boxes were stacked on one another. He discovered Peke J became a daddy, seeing the small little of newborn kittens that were about a week old. It took a moment for the mommy of the kittens to warm up to him but he gladly welcomed them into his home.  

It would be sometime before you and your husband had a long talk about the kittens.. Knowing that they could bring love into many others home. The next part was to break the news to your son. Explaining it to him as simply as possible. He was a bit upset and knew it would be the best choice, with a new baby on the way it would be a lot to handle with a full house. The kittens would always be a part of your family.

“Momma let me help you!” your 5-year-old son taking the box from your hand. 

“Are you sure you got it? You asked, looking at him taking the box to his dad. “Mmhmm” he walked to his father who was fixing the bows on the kittens. “ Momma was carrying boxes again.” Your son snitched you out. You saw your husband raise his brow at you. “Honey, we already talked about you carrying things.”  

“I know but I’m not handicapped now.” You responded as your fingertips caressing your husband's cheeks. 

Chifuyu saw his little one petting the kitten. He didn't leave the kitten's side. For Chifuyu it was a bittersweet moment for him as each one was getting adopted. Chifuyu and you throughout the day managed to get a few kittens adopted in the morning. Chifuyu needed to grab something from one of the aisles when he arrived at the front and noticed the small calico kitten missing. He thought maybe she got out and was roaming around the shop. You, Kazutora and Baji began looking for the lost kitten. Walking back to the front he noticed another kitten was missing. “Another one is missing.” Chifuyu sighed his fingers running through his hair. 

Baji on the other hand noticed one person missing. “I’m not sure they got out by themselves. The cage is too high for them to climb out.” He raised his brow.  "Baji gots a point there," Kazutora responded.

Chifuyu began counting everyone and Baji was right, one was missing. “Can you guys keep and eye on the other kitten men and _____ need to find s/n.” 

Chifuyu and you walked to the back quietly. You heard a small meow “shhh they will hear you milkshake.” You heard your son speaking quietly. 

“Well, we found the kittens.” Chifuyu spoke as his son froze before standing up quickly. 

“Oh look here they are hehe.” Your son nervously laughing as he scratched the back of his head. 

“S/n…” you sighed your hand on your hip. You had a hint on why he did it.

“We got worried when we couldn’t find them.” Chifuyu spoke looking at his son. 

“I know but…” his son looked down.

“But?” Chifuyu asked 

“I don’t want the rest to be adopted, I want to keep them.” Your son spoke. “They are our family.” 

Both you and Chifuyu could hear the sad tone in his voice. Chifuyu kneeled down at eye level with his son. “Of course they are bud. It’s just the house is gonna be really busy when the new baby comes. The kitten will also be a lot to handle as well. But every single one of the kittens that were adopted we know the people. So we know they will get all the love and attention in their new homes.”

“Couldn’t we put the baby up for adoption and keep the kitten?” Your guy's son asked. “We had them longer” 

Chifuyu closed his eyes for a moment as he composed himself; he didn't want to laugh. “Bud me and your mommy want to keep the baby.” 

“We thought you were gonna be excited to be a big brother?” You asked him.

“My friends tell me that when they have a new baby in the house their moms and dads spend a lot of time with the baby instead of them. I don’t want to forget.... it was great when it was just the three of us..”  You could see your son's eyes begin to welt up. You began to become emotional seeing your son upset. 

Chifuyu embraced his son giving him a hug. He rubbed his back he let a low sigh out he didn’t want him to feel like this. “We won't forget our first baby. You gave us the title mom and dad. We did all our first together.” He wiped his son's tears away “I know we might get busy with the new baby but we always make time for you. Plus when the baby arrives you could tell them everything you know.” Giving his son a gentle smile

“We love you very much s/n. I know the baby is going to love you very much too.” You softly spoke to your son. “I have an idea.” Both Chifuyu and your son looked at you. “I know you and milkshake are close, why don’t we keep her.” 

“Really?!?” Both Chifuyu and your son looked at you.

You chuckled at them both having the same reaction. “Yeah Peke J and Mrs.Peke will be happy too.” You cupped your child’s face kissing his forehead. 

After the chat with your son, the rest of the kittens were adopted by the end of the day. When arriving home your son and milkshake ran to his room to play. Peke J and Mrs. Peke both had when to their favorite place to take a nap. Both you and Chifuyu sat on the couch. It was a long day for everyone but knowing the kittens were happily adopted into loving families it was all worth it. You could see your husband lost in his thoughts. “Honey, are you okay?” you asked, rubbing his shoulder.

“Hmmm? Oh yeah… Just a little nervous, we haven’t had a baby in the house in a long time.” “I know it's a little nerve-racking but if I must say.” cupping his cheeks with your hands “you are the best dad I’ve ever seen. Our son adores you and just hearing your voice the baby goes crazy. We might be sleep deprived for a while but it will be worth it.” giving him a soft kiss. 

The dust of pink hitting his cheeks “how did I get so lucky to meet someone like you?” his green hands rest on your belly he felt the small kicks from his unborn child.

“It all draws back to Peke J having us meet.” you smiled “Also I forgot to mention I need you to defend my honor.”

Chifuyu blinked a few times wondering why he needed to do that. “Uhhhh???” “I know Baji was the one who told s/n to say I look like I ate a watermelon.”

Chifuyu pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a low chuckled “Well I think Baji was referring to you eating the whole watermelon.” Raising your brow “Just wait till this baby is out I’m going after you and him.” you let out a chuckle

Hearing a threat from his pregnant wife he couldn’t take it seriously after her chuckle “Babe I love you.” 

“I love you too but I’m still going after you both.”

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[wine-82]

early mornings of a weekend

og shirts under cut!

[i23kazu]

THEY CALL ME FATHER. I ACCEPTED THE TITLE

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. this is me getting to say neuvillette is daddy in an extremely sfw manner. he is melusine daddy i do not make the rules | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

so firstly. the melusines. they are absolute suckers for him. his greatest fans. if neuvillette has 10 fans they are the melusine. if neuvillette has 1 fan it is a melusine. if neuvillette has 0 fans the melusine is dead. if teyvat is against neuvillette, the melusines are against the world. need i explain more

anyways!!! he unofficially adopts them. i think thats just so cute like imagine waking up one day and your husband just goes "im the father of a race of sea creatures who live in a village. we have 300 children btw"

the melusines loooove to help you out around the house! they let u go for work while the older melusines are scrubbing dishes and hanging clothes (BABY MELUSINE CLOTHES!!!!!.) and rearranging neuvillette's hair ties into a little waterproof box

and yes!!! they love to tie neuvillette's hair! granted, they don't do a very good job – the melusines' hands are so, so so small anyways. your husband never dares to tell them that it doesn't look good, or it could be a little looser, he winces – he doesn't want to hurt them. after all, they look so happy to be a part of his morning routine!

they love to give neuvillette different hairstyles. some days it's pigtails, some days it's braids – all simple hairstyles, elevated with rainbow hair ties and seashell pins. the younger melusines love helping with his hair, and they all clamor onto his lap: tippytoed and standing on each other's shoulders. if one of the melusines can't reach his knees, neuvillette lifts them up by their arms and sits them on his lap to help.

and they all crowd around the door when saying goodbye to you and neuvillette for the day! the little melusines excitedly shove snacks, hairties, water pouches (that are melusine sized: they definitely aren't enough for neuvillette) and anything that they can think of that will help you with your day – right into your pockets

a slightly bigger melusine trots out of the house with a water bottle almost the size of her own frame, strapped to her back like a knapsack. she wobbles slightly, looking almost like a toddler playing with adult sized items. it doesn't help that neuvillette is so tall himself. he bends down to unstrap the water bottle and thank the dutiful melusine for helping him carry it. you swear that the melusine's eyes light up!

when coming home from work, the melusines excitedly count down the minutes until you and neuvillette arrives home, right on schedule. they greet him with a cheery "surprise!" as he opens the front door, greeted with the sight of his melusine children holding up a messily painted banner with the words "welcome home papa and (gender neutral parent term)!". he chuckles to himself, assuming that they weren't tall enough to tack the banner onto the wall. it's a cute surprise, anyways.

neuvillette also keeps a calendar of his children's birthdays!!! every week there's at least two birthdays going on so. he makes sure to have a little gift and cake prepared. a lot of the melusines like to go up to him and hint at it being their birthdays soon ("papa!! dyou know what day it is next week?? do you??!!") and he loves being playful with them and teasing them in return ("hm... is it tuesday?"), watching as the little melusine pouts. he gently hints at a present coming for their birthday soon, and the little sweetheart just beams.

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki (send ask to be added to taglist)

[honestlyitsjustsam]

what can i say, im a sucker for domestic fluff 🌸

[nekrosdolly]

gentle (18+)

hello! i was kind of stumbling through this so im worried it might not be good! like always, criticism is welcome ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

cw; dubcon due to non-verbal consent, re1 wesker, marriage/long term relationship implied, domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff not gonna lie, afab reader, soft dom wesker, clitoral stimulation, he's obsessed with you, praise (reader receiving), temperature difference cus he's a human icicle, creampie (x1), a bit of a breeding kink, very lovey and soft wesker

petnames (reader received); dearest, my dove, darling, dearheart, little dove, good girl, sweet thing, greedy girl

albert's gentle with you because he still has his humanity intact. sure, he's not completely sane either, but he doesn't want to drive you away. without uroboros or even the prototype virus, he's strong, and intimidating. his military training has hardened him, and he's tired of being stern and strict at both jobs.

to initiate, he'll typically come to you while you're both winding down for the night. maybe you're patting your face dry after washing it and he comes in the bathroom to hold you from behind. you set the towel aside and acknowledge his presence with a simple "hello, my love," and a small smile. your hands come up to

"hi, dearest," he murmurs, his hand coasting along your abdomen and up to settle on your sternum, pressing you back against his chest so you're flush.

"you're gorgeous," he says between kisses down your neck, his voice a little lower. despite his cold hands, he never fails to make you feel warm in your gut, the subtle purr of arousal making your blood flow south. you're blushing something fierce, making eye contact with him through the mirror. he does tower over you some. you can feel his erection against the small of your back, your own arousal heightening. the hand on his sternum moves to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple so he can watch how your breathing changes, how your heart beats faster and your face flushes red.

he's so in love with you it almost hurts. he loves the way you press your ass back against him, grinding as an attempt to soothe the ache in your cunt. the ache that only he could ever cause, no less, in the few years you've been together. his other hand finds its way into your underwear, fingers cold but deft as he dips them between your wettened folds to gather the sticky fluid and circle your pulsing clit. you become putty in his arms, your hands practically useless at your sides. your knees turn to jelly, little whines of satisfaction leaving you.

"so, so gorgeous." he croons, the hand cupping your breast simply kneading as he rubs your clit with two cold fingers. he's a sucker for praising you, truthfully, and he loves the way you become red in the face. your face is hot, his dull blue eyes boring holes in your own. it's as though the eye contact makes him more excited, even if the look in his eyes is bone-chilling. his breath is warm against your neck, words of praise and love leaving his pale lips. he presses down a bit more firmly on your clit, his fingers moving quicker to bring you closer to your release. your moans grow louder, your legs threatening to crumble beneath you.

when you do cum, he talks you through it. your hands scramble to grab the edge of the bathroom countertop, your knees buckling under you from the force of your orgasm. your vision is starry at the peak

"i'm here, my dove. lean on me, darling. that's it. you did so well for me, didn't you? yes, you did. my wonderful girl." he murmurs, retracting his hand from your underwear as he peppers kisses to your cheek as you recover. he licks his fingers clean of your cum and strokes your hair with his clean hand, waiting for you to be able to stand again. when you're steady again you tap his arm and he lets you go.

he washes his hands and starts his own nightly routine. you perch yourself on the bathroom countertop and watch him, your head and heart muddled with love and a bit of residual pleasure. every now and then his eyes wander over to you, the subtlest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth. you'll run a hand through his hair as he rubs his moisturizer in (he takes care of his skin you can't tell me otherwise), your nails gently scratching the base of his head.

"your hair is getting long." you murmur, playing with the whispy ends.

"too long, dear?" suddenly, he's a bit self-conscious. what if his hair is too long and you decide you hate it? maybe you'll decide that one day, you don't like him anymore. maybe you already have? nervous and trying to hide it, his gaze returns to his own face.

"no, not too long. you could definitely pull off longer hair if you wanted to give it a try." you let your hand drop into your lap and he nods, feeling conflicted and honestly very silly. regardless, he leans over and pecks your lips. his timidity is rare, exceedingly so for a man like him, and it only ever pops up around you. like you're the only one who can get in his head, make him squirm. he may not admit it, but you are.

"good to know. thank you, darling." he takes your hand and helps you off of the bathroom counter, that same hand slipping to the small of your back as the two of you walk to bed. you have other plans.

you make that apparent when you sit at the edge of your king-sized mattress, black sheets crinkling slightly, and look up at him. it's clear that you want something. he raises an eyebrow at you.

"what's this, dear?" he cups your jaw with one hand and strokes your hair with the other. icy eyes roam your own for an answer, but to no avail.

"you didn't get yours earlier." you push his hands away and for a moment he looks offended. his expression falters when you grab his hips and kiss his lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his boxers. he sputters, taking a step back when you reach for his boxers, his hands raising in what seems like defense..

"darling, that's not necessary." he insists, but the way you're looking at him makes his blood roar in his ears, his heart thump faster in his chest. you grab his hands instead and pull him close again. you move back on the bed and pull him with you, gentle like you're guiding him.

hesitant, he crawls on top of you.

"are you sure?" he asks, eyes roaming over you in your cute your hands cup his cheeks, your gaze warm as it roams his face. his cheeks are tinted pink, one of his hands runs over your stomach and along your waist. he hooks his thumb under your silk sleep shirt and slowly pulls it up past your chest. he glances up at you, then at your tits as he cups them. he tweaks one nipple as he ducks his head down to lap and suckle at the other.

your whines, spilling from you so easily, are his favorite noise to draw from you. a dull throb in your clit draws your attention, the familiar ache in your pussy returning with a vengeance and you attempt to clench your thighs together in hopes to mute it. you'd like to hurry, but albert hates being rushed. you know that more than anyone, that he'll take his time with you like you were a painting and absorb every detail.

you tug on his hair, adamant and desperate to get him inside of you to soothe the ache that's only worsening the longer you're without something to fill you. he pulls back upon your request

"al, darling, please." he kisses you in the gentle way he always does, the hand on your waist cupping your cheek. when he breaks away, he looks conflicted. he does want to make you happy- that's all he ever wants to do for you- but he's tempted to drag this out for as long as possible.

"alright, dear. in a moment, just be patient. i know you can." he pecks your lips again, quick and sweet and undeniably hungry. his cock is painfully hard in the thin confines of his boxers, aching to be inside you the way you need him to be.

"lift your hips, little dove." he's met with obedience and he works your pajama bottoms off, a hungry smile on his lips the moment he sees the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. his cock twitches at the sight, aches to feel those walls clench and flutter around him. he slides your panties down to your ankles, then pulls his boxers off. he hooks your legs around his waist, pulling you flush with him

"honey," you whine softly as he leans down to kiss you, simultaneously teasing your slickened cunt with the tip of his cock, a soft grunt escaping him. slowly, he presses the tip in your tight, warm entrance. you whine against his lips as he moans against yours, your weeping pussy sucking him in so nicely.

"so perfect. your cunt was made for me." he murmurs when he breaks the kiss, fully hilted inside you. with how big he is, his cock kisses the tip of your cervix and stretches you out thoroughly. you flutter around him at the praise, even more when he starts thrusting with a gentle desperation only you draw out of him. your head spins, feeling so full and yet craving more at the same time.

the heat on your cheeks matches his own. he's always been such a blushy mess when it comes to missionary, but can you blame him? the expression you make with your eyes half-lidded, lips parted in pleasure, your brows furrowed. his hands find your waist, his cold fingers gripping you tight. the velvet walls of your cunt do things to his head, makes all reasoning go out the window as he pumps his cock into you faster and faster, sacrificing all need to be gentle. though surprised at this, you love it. a similar fog fills your head and your hands move to his back, your nails digging into his skin hard when he wraps an arm around your waist, angling your hips differently.

"that's it, take it all like the good girl you are." he croons, his eyes locked on your face as he angles his hips to brush his cock against that spongy spot amongst velvet walls. you visbly light up with pleasure when he does, your nails breaking the skin of his back by mistake. you know he's only going slow to drag this out, but with the way he's bullying your cunt, you don't know how long you're going to last. each thrust fogs your mind more until you're a moaning, whimpering mess for him. you tighten around him, trying to take more despite him being balls deep already.

"such a greedy girl, my sweet thing… you're going to cum, aren't you?" you nod meekly, biting your bottom lip harder when he thumbs your clit, nearly drawing blood.

"words, dearest. use your words for me." he slows his thumb down to gentle strokes, his cold skin against yours making you hypervigilant of his touch.

"m'gonna cum- i-is that okay? can i?" you struggle to get your words out, interrupted by small gasps of your own as he pistons his cock into the spongy bundle of nerves within you.

he's smiling to himself, enjoying how eager and sweet you are, despite the circumstances. he's close himself, only disguising it until you get yours.

"go on, sweet girl, cum for me." he circles your clit faster once more, causing you to fall apart at the seams. your orgasm is intense, your hips spasming in the desperate chase for more of the white-hot ecstasy running through your blood. you feel hot at your peak, a cry of his name leaving your irritated and puffy lips, before you relax with the comedown. being the good lover he is, he coaxes you through it with soft words and gentle touches.

"that's it, pretty girl. my perfect girl. i love you."

"i love you too." you manage to say despite your hazy state, a weak smile on your pretty lips.

he wraps your legs around his waist as he cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, kissing you slowly so you're not overwhelmed. you're a mess of nothing but your own slick, his cock buried deep inside you. the lower half of his abdomen is drenched with your cum, dripping down his pelvis and thighs. your legs are unsteady and wobbly, shaking in their place.

"al," you break the kiss. the restraint he's showing is visible on his face, especially in the way he's furrowing his eyebrows, "keep going if you need to. i can take it, i promise." he nods, though worried about hurting you somehow. he likes this position much more- he's already close as is, and all he can think about is filling your womb with his kids.

he doesn't speak as he starts thrusting into you again, quick and precise yet surprisingly harsh movements into your overly sensitive cunt. and yet you're still so wet for him, your cunt weeping for more. you can hardly think, let alone tell him how good you feel.

he kisses you hard, his cum filling you up so nicely, you'll be thinking about it for days. he groans against your lips, licking into your mouth. the familiar taste of tobacco from his tongue, his seed inside you, the remnants of his colonge flooding your senses, all overwhelming you. your heart flutters. he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he recovers.

"are you okay, dearheart?" he brings a hand up to fix your shirt and kisses the corners of your lips. tired, yet content, you nod softly and kiss him again. he hums quietly and cups your cheek, his mind still a touch fuzzy. the blush from his cheeks has yet to fade, and likely won't for another hour.

one hand on your waist squeezes you and he pulls back from the kiss to pull out of you, then get off the bed. he grabs you a fresh pair of underwear and pajama pants for himself. he steps into the pants while you sit up and take the underwear from him to put on.

"you know i love you, right?" you say as the two of you lie down, his strong hands pulling you flush against his chest with your back facing him.

"i know, dove. i love you just as much." he wraps an arm around your waist, getting comfortable as the big spoon. tired, he lets his eyes flutter shut. you pull the sheets up and over the two of you, hiking them up to your waist, then follow suit in closing your eyes,

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married. 

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young. 

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio. 

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night. 

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin. 

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children. 

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day. 

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him. 

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!” 

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning. 

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake. 

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know. 

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips. 

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites. 

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked. 

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one. 

[ham0705]

a good news!!! now my crimmlet has a name🥳

She’s Sunngifu “Sunny” Crimm and my dearest friend @stc019 found a perfect name for her🧡🧡🧡

im just a sucker for domestic fluff and my fav ship with kids is like my source of motivation!!!!!

[rascal-xo]

HI!!

Im here to make a Lil chubby ghost request 🙏💕 (your writing is SO good btw)

kinda like a part 2 to sweet indulgences??? So like reader cooks a bunch of baked goods for him and he gains weight bc of it and gets insecure about it and reader reassures him n stuff (make it smutty if you want ‼️)

If you do this THANK YOU YOU'RE A BLESSING TO SOCIETY

Sweet Nothings | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader |

This is a part 2 to Sweet Indulgence but can be read as a standalone <3

Chapter Summary: Being home from the chaos of the 141, Simon basks in his wife’s love language which happens to be baking, leading to a little insecurity.

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, insecurities, Domestic!Simon

Word Count: 1.7K

Tags: @whirly-birbs 💛

You awoke up early in the morning, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face Turning your head to the side and saw Simon still sound asleep beside you. You can't help but watch as his chest rose and fell with each long breath he took. You couldn’t help but reach out and run your fingers through his hair,

In his sleep, Simon was at a peace he didn’t know out in the field. He was undisturbed in his rest, laying on his stomach, with an arm lazily draped over your midsection.

You couldn't resist leaning in to press a soft kiss against his forehead, savoring the warmth of his skin against your lips. You pulled back and watched as he shifted slightly, his breathing deepening once again as he settled back into a deeper sleep.

You took a moment to appreciate the peacefulness of the moment, knowing it would be short-lived once Simon had to return to work. You let your gaze travel over his face, taking in the faint scars and the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that appeared when he smiled.

You remembered the day you met him, the way he had looked at you with those same eyes, your heart swelled with love for this man who had sacrificed so much. Finally, he stirred again, and this time his eyes opened. He looked at you sleepily, his lips quirking up into a small smile. "You’re up early, love," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

You smiled back at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. "Go back to sleep Si. You should rest.” You said, your voice quiet close to his face. He responded sleepily, pulling you closer to him, and letting himself fall back into the sleep he so desperately deserved.

You let yourself stay cuddled in his embrace for a little while longer before finally deciding to get up. You picked his t shirt off of the floor and slipped it over your body. It reached your mid thighs, fitting you like a dress. It was the way Simon liked you best walking around the house.

Simon being home meant you could spoil him in your favorites of ways, especially baking. One thing about your husband was that he was a sucker for anything you made. It was your language, and who couldn’t want to wake up to the smell of fresh pastries or baked goods?

You tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful not to wake him, and made your way to the kitchen after freshening up. You preheated the oven and started gathering the ingredients for Simons favorite blueberry muffins.

As you put together the batter, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have Simon home with you for the next three weeks. It was rare that you got this much time together, and you wanted to make the most of it.

Once the muffins were in the oven, you cleaned up the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom. Simon was still sound asleep, and you couldn't resist climbing back into bed beside him.

You snuggled up close to him, resting your head on his chest and listening to the steady thump of his heart. It was slower than a regular heartbeat, like the deep rumble of distant thunder. Each beat was deliberate and purposeful, as if his heart was taking its time to rest and recover after the stresses of being in the field

After a while, the timer for the oven went off, and you reluctantly began to pull yourself away from Simon's embrace to go and check on them. “Leaving so soon?” His voice sounded huskily from next to you.

“Made you something special, for when you get up.”

“Smell’s amazing.” Simon smiled at you as you got out of bed, watching you move with an ease and grace that always left him a little breathless. But as he watched you leave, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of insecurity.

Over the past few weeks he’d been home, he had gained some weight, and not that he wouldn’t give anything to be able to eat your food all the time, he also found himself feeling self-conscious about it.

He got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, his eyes drawn to his reflection in the mirror. He didn't like what he saw.

He sighed, running his hands over his stomach, feeling the softness of the flesh there. He had always been in peak physical condition as far as special forces gave him the ability to, but the past few weeks being home had taken their toll on him.

He made his way back to the bedroom and got dressed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were standing at the counter, your back to him, as you pulled the last of the muffins out of the oven.

You turned around, your eyes lighting up at the sight of Simon. "Morning," You said, holding one of the baked goods out to him.

Simon took the muffin from you, his eyes flickering down for a moment. "Thank you, love" he said, his voice quiet. "These look amazing."

You looked at him, sensing that something was off. "What's wrong, Si?" You asked, your voice gentle. You moved closer to him wrapping an arm around his midsection and looking up to gaze.

“Don’t you feel like I've let myself go, love?” He finally spoke, his voice a little softer. He looked down at you with an expression in his eyes you hadn’t quite seen like this.

You could see the vulnerability in Simon's eyes, and it broke your heart. You took a step closer, your arms going a bit loose around him to get a better look at his face. “Oh, Si, no. I love how you look." you answered instantly.

Simon let out a small sigh, his arms resting on your hips. "I just feel like I'm not as fit as I used to be," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't need to change a thing, Si.“ You repeated again, kissing his stubbled cheek softly. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, “Besides, I love you like this. Being at home in one piece is a good look on you.” You chuckled.

Simon's expression softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you." he said, his voice filled with emotion. “My sweet girl.”

You pulled back from his embrace for a second, taking in the morning glow of his face, before reaching up to pull his lips to yours, resting your hand on the back of his neck.

Simon’s lips softly pressed against yours. His hand caressing your hips, as you wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened as your passion intensified. Simon's tongue lightly traced the seam of your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly parted allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Your tongues dance together in a slow, sensual rhythm as your bodies press against each other, trying to find a way to be closer than you already were

Simon broke the kiss, moving along your jawline, down to your neck, leaving a trail of sweet, tender kisses. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to Simon's lips. You let out a soft sigh, melting into his touch.

His hands explore your body, running under your thighs moving his t shirt higher up. He began to lower himself, and you moaned softly as his lips found their from your nipples down your lower stomach, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

Your hands tangled in his messy hair as he continued to explore your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You felt a rush of desire wash over you as he moved his kisses down to the insides of your thighs, sucking on the exposed skin.

You let your legs fall open, offering yourself to him completely, and Simon took full advantage, his hand bringing your right leg to rest over his shoulder, exposing your heat to him.

You looked up, his eyes now dark with desire. You could see the hunger and longing in his gaze, and it only added to your own desire.

Simon's tongue found its way to your clit, and you moaned as his tongue began to explore you. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You couldn't hold back your moans, your body writhing beneath his touch as he continued to pleasure you. Simon's fingers found their way inside you, moving in sync with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Your breathing became ragged as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. You arched your back, holding onto the counter behind you. Your fingers digging into his hair as you let out a cry of pleasure. Simon didn't stop, continuing to work his magic. “Fuck, I’m close, Si.” You could barely make out the words.

Simon's eyes were fixed on you, his focus solely on giving you pleasure. He groaned, quickening his pace, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony. You were lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations running through your body.

Your walls began to tighten around his fingers, and you knew you were close. Your moans turned into cries of ecstasy.

You came hard, your body shaking with pleasure as you rode out your high. Simon's mouth and fingers stayed with you throughout, never letting up until you were completely spent.

He stood up, his face now level with yours, his lips claiming yours once again. You could taste yourself on him, the sensation only adding to your desire.

You could feel his hardness pressed against you, and you knew that he wanted you just as badly as you needed him. You looked up into his eyes and nodded, silently giving him permission to take you.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the couch. You captured his mouth again, “Show me how much you love me.” You mumbled against his lips.

And that he did.

[watchyourbuck]

masterlist

most of these are 18+ or will end up being! i urge you to take a look at the tags on each, as some of them have very niche kinks

series knives to the chest (and into my heart) - ongoing The one where Buck and Eddie are killers, but they're also in love (as much as they can be).

dear maddie, - finished After Buck dies, Eddie writes ten heartfelt letters to Maddie, telling her the story of how they fell in love, so she can feel closer to her brother once again.

A.R.C.A.N.E.3 - ongoing (and still receiving prompts) This Dystopian Fantasy AU is part of a Tumblr game, where the world I built is kept secret from the readers. Each chapter is in response to a prompt sent to me on my inbox, shaping the story with the only promise of Buck and Eddie ending up together. The more I write, the more is revealed.

fifteen first kisses - ongoing Fifteen different first kisses between Buck and Eddie

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

one shots i'll guide you through The one where Eddie's never been with a man before, and Buck gladly guides him through it.

not your fault (but mine) The one where Buck invites his new boyfriend to game night at Eddie's house and Eddie does something about it.

next in line Buck has a boyfriend. Eddie isn't happy about it. It should be him in that spot.

the powder room plot A lot can happen at the firehouse's men restroom. The one were Eddie begs Buck to let him eat him out.

fill in the gaps (and i'll fill yours) 5 times Buck and Eddie mess around at work + 1 time it almost gets them fired.

watercolored Buck and Eddie break into a hotel's jacuzzi at night, but can't seem to be too quiet about it.

among the hungry and the patient Buck's tired of Eddie's bullshit so he walks into the firehouse and just asks him to make out.

i love you if you even care 7x04 spec fic where Buck gets jealous of Tommy, but hits Eddie with the basketball instead.

do you mind? im pining 7x05 spec fic. Buck and Tommy have their first date. Eddie is jealous about it. (Includes Buck and Tommy making out at the loft + Eddie dealing with complicated feelings towards his best friend).

i might be a sucker for you 7x05 meta fic. Buck and Tommy go on their first date, but never get interrupted. Includes bucktommy public kissing + first time blow jobs.

third mans the charm Buck and Tommy get nasty at a gay bar - with Eddie. (Includes a double public blowjob + sub Buck)

i dont think we fit on the bed Stablished buddietommy takes the day off. (Includes Tommy and Eddie taking care of Buck in various ways + a little domestic fluff).

everything about you tastes like metal Buck gets a tongue piercing to suck Tommy off.

golden star boy has two boyfriends 7x06 meta fic. Tommy never leaves the bachelor party. He catches Eddie staring at them making out. (Includes drunk Buck and Eddie + Buck being needy for two men.)

[buggyjuggie]

Here are some random headcanons/ideas about johnny/johnshi that have been brewing in my autistic brain for a few days :3

Headcanons

• Johnny has been a hug fan of Van Damme ever since childhood. He tought of Van Damme as his idol.

• Johnny still is in contact with his mom and she’s the only person in the cage family that knows of Johnny’s and Kenshi’s relationship.

•Johnny Kitana Millena Syzoth and Ashrah have movie night every week

• He likes it when Kenshi runs his fingers across his chest tattoo

•He’s also extremely ticklish

•Johnny is autistic (TRY AND CHANGE MY MIND I DARE YOU) his hiperfixations are movies(duh) and history

•Johnny is actually really smart and people tend to be surprised when they come over and see that he has a college diploma

• For special events he’ll wear a black pencil eyeliner

•He knows how to take care of himself like bro probably has 24 step skincare routine, uses hand moisturiser ALL THE TIME, wears lipglosses/vaseline, clean healthy nails, a bunch of different types of shampoos ( clean girl aesthetic)

•If Kenshi had a dificult or stressful day Johnny will let him lay on his chest (titties)

•Johnny is the best when it come to gift giving. While to others it may look like Johnny doesn’t listen to anyone but himself he actually remembers a lot of details about his friends and while it may look like he’s not listening he’s actually doing the exact opposite.

•Smoke sees Johnny as an older brother and sometimes asks him for advice or just to hang out

•Johnny and Kitana and besties they go clothe shopping often and talk about drama from both hollywood and outworld

• He teaches the characters from outworld how to use technology like phones, TV’s ect.

Ideas

(Feel free to take these if you want because i can’t write fanfiction to save my life lol)

• Switched AU- very simple Johnny and Kenshi switch places so instead of Kenshi loosing his eyesight it’s Johnny who looses it

•Double date- Kenshi and Johnny go on a double date with Tanya and Millena or Syzoth and Ashrah (or any ship of your choice)

•Cuddle fic- i don’t get how theres so little fics of them just cuddling and being domestic gays (LET MY BOYS BE HAPPY AND CUDDLE)

• Ghost fic- ok i know i just said there needs to be more fluff BUT I’m also a sucker for hurt comfort so essential johnny dies or has to be killed and his soul goes into Sento and that way he can communicate with Kenshi (i have a full post with more details)

•Childhood-Johnny tells Kenshi about his childhood after he noticed the little things about johnny that dont make sense or are concerning ( can you tell im a sucker for hurt/comfort)

Sorry for the bad grammar english isn’t my first language but i hope you enjoyed reading my rambles :3

[nomazee]

hihi!! i love ur writing sm and was wondering if u could do a chuuya x also mafia executive reader (similar to the dazai friends to lovers u did a bit ago) with the unestablished relationship but so obviously in love trope

thank u sm!!

i went so overboard omfg FORGIVE ME... i hope this is cohesive i kept working at it at like deep into the night so it's a little hazy omg but i loved this so much im such a sucker for this trope and chuuya and dazai are like the best characters for this kind of genre i feel

pairing: chuuya x gn reader word count: 2.8k content: fluff, hurt/comfort (an abundance of it), friends-to-lovers, mentions of sickness (vomiting, fever, etc), domestic fluff, sweet stuff, also hand-wavey teenage timeline because i didn't read all of stormbringer forgive me...

°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.

“They said they might promote me, did you hear?” 

Chuuya glances to the side at the sudden sound of your voice. You’re leaning over his shoulder from behind him, face mere inches from his as you grin widely. He has to fight the twitches of his own lips to stop himself from smiling back. “And who’s they, exactly?” 

“Oh, you know. The grapevine. Just some whispers in the organization. And Kouyou.” You lean back, the radiating warmth of your body suddenly escaping Chuuya. He walks behind you as you make your way down the hallway, a little jump in your step as you recount the news to him. 

“It’s what you get for working so hard. Guess it paid off.” 

“You think I’m hardworking! You’re a flatterer, Chuuya Nakahara.” 

“Sure am,” he quips back with amusement. Banter with you is different than with Dazai. With you, it’s lighthearted, and silly, and makes him feel like he’s fourteen and messing around with the Sheep again. With Dazai, it’s… charged, and fast-paced, and builds up a kind of aggravated energy within him that works well in fights but not in a room of Kouyou’s antiques. 

“But guess what,” you start again, looking over your shoulder where Chuuya follows close behind. Your pace slows down to let him catch up to you and walk side-by-side, now. “I think you’ve got a good chance, too. You’ve got some executive qualities, you know?” 

It makes Chuuya pause for a moment, because he hasn’t really thought about it before. After the mess that was the Sheep, he hadn’t considered taking up any kind of leadership or executive position in the Port Mafia. It wasn’t really his thing—too much work, too much responsibility. And as much as he loathed to admit it, it would probably mean even less time to spend with you and Dazai. Being mentored by different people already limited your time with each other. 

He tries not to think too hard about the implications of it—of you and Dazai working under Mori’s hands while Chuuya gets Kouyou’s firm, but gentler palms. A vague kind of sickness washes over him that he tries to shake off. 

“I don’t know about that. I think I do better in a quieter position, don't you think?” 

“Nothing is quiet about you. Especially not with that partner of yours,” you joke back. “I could put in a good word for you! Once I get promoted, I’ll have, like, a bunch of power and influence, and I’ll be all high and mighty, and you and me and Dazai can all take care of the Port Mafia and be all cool, and everything.” 

It’s a pipe dream. Both of you know that. Chuuya knows best about your hidden resentment of this organization and all that it stands for, all that it does. He’s heard whispers about your plans to take over—plans that would never come to fruition. Plans that were more like dreams and wishes and hopes. Something to get you through the day. The budding smile on his face falters when he turns and sees that distant look in your eyes. A sigh bubbles in his chest, but he holds it down. 

“Hey, slow down. You don’t even know if you’re getting the position or not.” His comment is met with a roll of your eyes and a chest-deep groan. You launch into a big speech about how qualified you are for the job, and all the different things you’d institute as a mafia executive (nap time, stress room with cats, petting zoo, iced tea dispensers), and Chuuya nods along and laughs for as long as he can.

===

You do, in fact, get promoted to an executive, but at the cost of a lot of things. Dazai leaves the mafia with no warning to you or Chuuya. You don't see him at all for two weeks leading up to his defection, and it all happens in a blur that leaves your head swimming with vertigo and your body much too frail to handle everything. 

Chuuya finds you sobbing in your en suite bathroom, kneeling on the floor and crying so hard that you’re dry heaving. He hasn’t seen you like this before. Even in your rare moments of vulnerability, it was never something so visceral and uncensored. He stands in the doorway, looking down at you, and freezes. His palms itch with the desire to do something, something that he hasn’t learned.

“You… Hey, hey,” Chuuya drops to the floor once he snaps out of his daze, crouching next to your curled up form as you shake with the force of your tears. He tentatively reaches out a hand, easing onto your shoulder. When you don’t give any sort of negative reaction, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for an embrace. 

It’s odd. This isn’t something that the three of you did. For all that you and him and Dazai kicked and pushed and shoved each other jokingly, this kind of touch is unfamiliar. It’s scalding in the way that sitting in front of a space heater in the dead of winter burns you.

He shushes you like a child because he’s not sure what else to say. He’s just as shaken by Dazai’s defection, but he knew that you and Dazai had become so close over the last few years. Being trained under Mori together does that. His chest squeezes at the sight of you like this, broken down and shivering and sick at the loss of your friend. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. Shhh, it’s— it’s okay.”

Chuuya smooths a hand over the top of your head, sliding down to rest between your shoulderblades. His mouth presses against your temple in a gentle kiss, feeling how cold and clammy your skin has gotten. He doesn’t know how to heal you. His hands are made to weigh people down and hurt and subdue, and he’s not sure if he can handle the gentler things like holding you and swathing you in blankets and cooking you soup. 

But, he thinks with a renewed determination. There’s no harm in trying. 

Three months later, you take Dazai’s executive position at the age of nineteen. Chuuya follows suit after another year and a half and becomes executive at twenty. You only think of Dazai when your head swims in gin and when you can’t feel the heat of Chuuya’s hands near you.

===

The both of you find yourselves in Chuuya’s apartment drinking the night away. At this point, you’re both twenty-one, and being in the mafia has offered you countless resources for alcohol and the like. A warm haze has blanketed you as you take another sip of whatever sweet fruity drink Chuuya has concocted for you. He drinks a glass of wine, because he’s weird and bougie, which you tell him straightforwardly. 

“Wine’s just an acquired taste,” he tells you.

“It’s glorified grape juice. It tastes like yeast.” 

“That’s… kind of what it is.” 

You laugh so hard that tears bead in your eyes and you hit him on the shoulder hard enough to bruise. It’s not even that funny, really, and he wasn’t even trying to make you laugh, but it’s so late into the night that you don’t even know what time it is and everything is funny when you’re this drunk.

“I’m hungry, Chuuya. I miss your soup,” you say, a whine in your voice as you throw your head back against the armrest of the couch. You’re stretched out on his velvet upholstered couch with your feet in his lap, and he’s been tracing circles against your bare shins while some documentary plays in the background on the TV. “You haven’t cooked for me in forever. I thought it was your duty as a househusband to cook every night, or something.” 

“Hey! I’m not anyone’s househusband,” he shouts in protest. When you push your head up from the armrest to glance at him, his tanned face is flushed a warm red and his brow is furrowed in playful indignation and you’re struck with the urge to bite him like a chew toy. Instead, you let out a soft kind of laugh and roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, you are. You’re my husband. Have been since the day I met you.” In a burst of newfound energy, you propel yourself up and off the couch, swinging your legs off his lap and standing up. “Let’s go make some soup. Your pantry’s probably stocked, right? Since you’re on top of all your housekeeping.” 

“Geez. You’re never letting that go, are you?” 

“Of course not! Come on. You have to teach me how to cook now.” 

Chuuya has reserved bone broth in his freezer, because of course he does. You submerge a container of it in hot water and wait for it to defrost while he helps you dice and saute vegetables in a pressure cooker. 

(“Don't pressure cookers, like, explode, or something?” 

“...who taught you that.”)

It’s a miracle you can even use a knife safely, because your head is still swimming a little bit and the line of empty bottles on the coffee table taunts you and your bad decisions. You also blame it for the way you stick close to Chuuya, bumping your hips together and leaning your head on his shoulder for a few fleeting moments until the pressure cooker starts hissing. 

He serves you a heaping bowl and when you tell him you’ll puke if you eat the whole thing, he pushes the bowl at you from across the counter and says, “I’ll guess I’ll just clean your puke for you too, then.” 

“Gross. You’re really a househusband if you’re brave enough to do that.” 

“Househusband this, househusband that. All I do is cook.” 

“And clean up the vomit of your lovely lovely spouse.” 

“Sure,” he says, and he turns back to you and puts his own bowl next to yours. Then, in a swift, undeterred motion, he reaches across the kitchen island, over both steaming bowls of soup and kisses you straight on the mouth. It shocks you right into lucidity, eyes blown wide and lips nearly parting at the sudden contact. Before you can really think about it, Chuuya pulls back, circling around the kitchen island to sit next to you with two spoons so you can both eat. “As long as that lovely lovely spouse is you.” 

You feel—light. Airy, sick, nauseous, more at peace than you have been in the last three years. A stupid smile starts forming on your face and you hide your giddy laughs into your soup. 

Chuuya would never act like this sober, you think, still cherishing the little moment you have. Thankfully, you’re proven wrong when he keeps doing it—walking you back to your apartment the next day, going out to a mafia-affiliated diner the next week, in an empty meeting room after everyone has left.

===

Another year passes. You find yourself in the throes of the cannibalism incident—not as a bystander, but as a victim. Because that’s just your luck, really. 

You don’t know how you were caught in the crossfire between Fyodor and Mori, but somehow you were infected with the cannibalism virus and bedridden for nearly three days, in-and-out of consciousness while you hoped and prayed that somebody would save you. For the entirety of the conflict, you were left alone in the PM infirmary, sweating off your perpetual fever and coughing up stomach bile into a metal garbage can. 

It was awful. There’s no blame to put on anyone, though. Everyone who was able to stand was on the front lines, so to speak, and from what you understood you weren’t as big of a target as Mori. Three days alone in a sterile bed was worth it for the survival of the organization.

At the end of it all, in the calm after the storm, sitting in your dorm, Chuuya visits you. 

You don’t look too great, still recovering physically and emotionally, but you can’t find it in you to care. The second you hear the familiar cadence of his knock and the shuffling of his stupid heeled boots, you rip the door open and are met with his wide-eyed expression. 

“Hey,” he says, and you burst into tears because god. It hasn’t hit you until now, seeing him in front of you, his warmth radiating from his hands as they reach out to hold you, but you could’ve died or he could’ve died and then what would’ve happened? Years and years of knowing each other, seeing each other at your worst, taking care of each other. Cooking in your kitchen and sleeping on his couch and kissing him like it meant nothing. It could’ve all been gone. 

The mafia isn’t a safe occupation to begin with, but this entire thing has made you realize how fleeting everything is. So you sob, and you let him hold you and bring you to the couch, and you let yourself be weak.

“Hey,” he says again, tone now placating, gloved hands resting on the back of your head and between your shoulder blades as he sits next to you on the couch. You have no regard for where your body is right now, legs sprawled out somewhere beneath you and arms reaching up to grab at Chuuya’s clothes in any way you can. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” 

You cough wetly into his shoulder, a whine forming from between your violent sobs. Your body shakes with the remnants of your sickness and the exhaustion of the week and a small voice in the back of your head tells you that it’s embarrassing, that it’s unbecoming of a mafia executive to be so affected. 

Death threats and poisonings and shootings—you deal with it every week. You choke out another whine of distress as you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids in an attempt to quell the tears. It doesn’t work. You’re still weak, no matter how hard you hurt. 

“Shit, Chuuya,” you cough out a weak sob, shivers wracking your body as the weight of everything crashes onto you. “I was so sick. I was alone. I thought I would die. God.” You pull back from his hold to rub at your eyes with your raw palms.

“Stop that,” Chuuya says, with a gentleness you swear you haven’t heard in so long but in truth it’s been with you for the last two years. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Cold fingers wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. 

The white-hot heat of embarrassment scalds the back of your neck. You feel like a scolded child with the pitying look he gives you, and with your hands locked between his there’s no way to hide. 

“Stop,” you tell him, “quit it, Chuuya,” and you don’t know what you’re begging for, but it’s the lowest you’ve ever felt—a feared member of the mafia on their knees crying and asking for some kind of mercy. 

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” he mumbles, and he pulls you just a bit closer with the grip he has on your hands. His chin rests on top of your head and you shove your face into the crook of his neck.

For once, he doesn’t smell like his gross luxury perfume. He smells like your laundry detergent and grass and the city and even more tears spill over your cheeks. Your fingers curl into his and you clench his knuckles until you feel them creak through the gloves. 

“I wouldn't let you die,” Chuuya’s voice is no more than a whisper, but it’s the most determined you’ve heard him sound. “I wouldn’t let it happen.” 

“I don’t need your protection,” and it’s a weak protest, and you’re grasping at straws to argue with him and push him away and make him stop before you make yourself sick with how hard you’re sobbing. You feel one hand slip from yours and slide up between your shoulderblades and start trailing along the nape of your neck, tracing circles in a lulling gesture. 

“I know you don't,” he says, “but I would really like it if you let me. Just once in a while. Let me cook you soup alone and wash your face and clean your hair. All that stupid stuff.”

You cough out a weak laugh. Your househusband shtick from a year ago comes back to you, and so do all the warm evenings spent together in the kitchen and the kisses left on his cheek and the ones left on yours. You feel the warm press of his mouth against your temple and let out your last weak sob before you hold him tight again, squeeze him hard against you to make sure he’s still there. And that’s where he’ll stay.

[equiusza]

Guys! Does anyone have any good huskerdust or (preferably qpr, but im ok with both platonic and romantic too) radioapple fic reqs?

I prefer fluff or more domestic fics, but im a sucker for hurt/comfort aswell. Im also always a sucker for a good kidfic.

[imperaptorfuriosa]

RUTH'S CHAINSHIPPING FIC REC LIST ⛓️

as requested by @kidwars :)

im still fairly new here so im certain there is some great stuff i havent read yet (my reading list is STACKED) but these are some of my faves so far!!!!! i also went thro and tagged any authors who had their tumblr in their ao3 profile so i could say hi i love your work, but if anyone wants a tag removed (or added) just lmk

rematch by unstuckintime. time-loops are one of my all time favorite styles of fix-it so this fic is literally EVERYTHING!!

sleeping with ghosts by @adrianicsea . my other favorite type of au is a GHOST AU and this one is fantastic!! written by a beloved mutual, i read all 250k of it in like 3 days flat. it's addicting AND not even done yet. BONUS POINTS for trans adam!!!

heaven knows im miserable now by bleakmidwinter. lawrence asks adam to help with his PT/recovery at a remote cabin. adam's artistic side is given some focus. it's so damn good just read it.

to hold you again by TheFamousFireLadyM. IM OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC. i think about it OFTEN. it's all about lawrence's grief/guilt/obsession with adam. short and excellent. (not a fix-it)

Stop Bath by fakebodies ( @2x4swrites ) . adam finds that lawrence has been taking photos of him when he wasnt paying attention. it's so sweet, so good, i love it.

Can You Feel My Heart? by @vixenfur . i love that they are literally both like "wow gay sex feels so good, and that's weird because i'm definitely straight!" LMAO

Family Tree by @general-sleepy. ive read a whole bunch of adam as a step-dad fics and this one is one of my faves....i am a simple man and a perpetual sucker for family/domestic aus and im not apologizing for that.

i'd tell you everything; if you'd pick up that telephone by @whatifwekissedinthesawbathroom . lovely dialogue-only fic. i love the ones where adam and lawrence move in together first, THEN figure out that they are also in love and this fic is one that stands out in my brain from that genre.

you're the one (using me as a muse) by 10pintsofsacrifice ( @angeltrapz ). this one deals with the pressure of the media/press on adam, and ends with the sweetest fluff. it's so good <3

and 2 bonus coffinshipping recs too >:)

Strahm Dies at the End by unstuckintime. this fic singlehandedly converted me to hoffstrahm-ism. HILARIOUS opening. it's very dark but tbh? that's the way this dynamic works for me.

rushed like a dreadful wind by bleakmidwinter. still dark, but does have a happy ending. i know i just said i like my hoffstrahms to be evil and toxic but this fic really hit the spot. what can i say? i love when the 2 guys are chained together LMAO

[saphirered]

Heyy!! So lately I've been in a very domestic, fluffy feel. SOOO NOW IM PROJECTING THAT onto this request rq teehee. I was wanting to do one for Percy, with season two out I missed the angsty gunslinger on screen. Set after the campaign, maybe during winter's crest? As of you and Percy coming back to whitestone for the occasion, its decided to round up all of Vox Machina. For a night of fun amongst friends, with a whole lot of ale to go around and stories to tell. Percy seems distant lately, staying more to his workshop and genuinely his own tasks. Not like his workshop isn't already a second room, it's just ODD to say the least. As the day rolls around, everyone starts to arrive at whitestones castle. With happy greetings and laughs, that night's activities begin. To sum it up , Percy proposes to reader. Thinking it would be a nice gesture to pull. Also cause I know this extra bitch would make a ring for you. I know it sounds cheesy but like hear me outtt!! The moment just sounded so sweet to me and I NEEDED to send this in. I'm a sucker for this cute content <3 Byeee Saph!!! :D

A proposal you asked for, a proposal you'll get. Fluff and cheese and all of the things. Sorry for the wait but I hop the 3.6k word count made up for it. Hope you enjoy and thanks for requesting! 😘

“I’ll be right with you, dear!” He’s spoken and shouted those words over the noise of his ongoing projects far too many times. Percy feels somewhat guilty for all but banishing you from his workshop and hiding this one secret project of his. He’s been so caught up in it; it has to be perfect after all. But that did mean he couldn’t spend as much time with you and his mind is elsewhere whenever he does leave his workshop. He’s seen your accepting but sad smiles whenever he wanders off. His heart hurts when he finishes late and you’re already in bed, asleep and alone curled up on your side because he missed yet another dinner. It’s reached the point where he’s been considering just spilling he beans. He doesn’t want to hurt you over some stupid secret but you’re so damn understanding and accepting. Of course you’re disappointed when he does join you for a meal and he informs you he has errands to run and won’t be back until late. You’d simply give him a kiss and wish him good luck. He’s barely seen you outside of your overlapping responsibilities. He just feels bad. But then there’s a breakthrough!

The door to his workshop slams open, or rather off its hinges entirely. Now very few people are able to break a deadbolted several inch thick heavy steel door clean off its hinges and that immediately signals him; it’s not you at that door. Given the shadow that all but blocks the light from entering He knows enough. He’s all but grabbed by the shoulders and lifted from his seat and can barely settle his things before he’s dragged out of his workshop. 

“Come on Percy, you’re not going to let us have all the fun, are you?” Scanlan speaks in a sing-song voice when he’s pushed into the hallway and sees the gnome casually leaning against the wall like the arsehole he is. 

“I was perfectly content finishing my work instead.” He counters but Scanlan wouldn’t have it. 

“We’re having a night out, like old times! Let’s drink dry a tavern! Start some fights!” The gnome tries to persuade him and while anything coming out of Scanlan’s mouth should always be questioned, He can’t help but long for some normalcy. No matter how much he might pretend to hate the ruckus his friends cause which inevitably ended with them getting kicked out of the establishment, district or even city, he likes it and misses it. And before he know it he’s spiralling in memories of you, covering his back while he tries to fight off that minotaur barkeep, and the time where you smashed that stein in pieces thug’s head. He also thinks of the conversations you’ve had, the things you learned about each other, and the sometimes drunken ramblings where your questionable theories actually hold some weight. He misses it all. He misses the glint in your eye right before you’re about to absolutely decimate some card players. He misses your laughter at Keyleth’s horrible jokes, and your caring side when she has a little too much. He misses your little battles of charm with Vex as the two of you attempt to have the group drink for free and negate the expense of the damages done to the establishment or people. 

Percy is so caught in his mind that he automatically walks with when Scanlan and Grog begin to move. He doesn’t even put up a fight. He’ll have this one night. He’ll enjoy it. Then he realises how bloody stupid he is. 

“Excuse me. I’ll meet you there.” He turns on his heels but comes face to face with Grog’s chest.

“Nuh-uh! Pike said she won’t let us have any ale if we don’t bring you back.” Grog pouts at the thought of being refused ale. No surprise there. 

“And what’s your motive?” Percy wonders out loud. He already knows the answer and Scanlan just raises an eyebrow implying the same. 

“You really wanna know?” 

“Point taken.” Percy shakes his head, takes a step back from Grog but that doesn’t mean he’s not craning his neck to stare up at him. “If you have to come along, be my guest. I just need to get something from my workshop. That is all.” Scanlan shrugs at Grog. Grog shrugs back. Scanlan shrugs again. So does Grog. Percy’s already sick of this so he just starts walking and they follow whispering not so inconspicuously. He still choses to block him out.

Once back at the workshop he engages the safety door; not ideal but at least it wards off snoopers. He walks over to his work bench, sits down and pulls open one of the drawers under it. He pulls out two bands of precious metal, notices they’re a bit dirty and quickly cleans them with a rag. He sees Scanlan peeking around the corner. The gnome knows not to enter his workshop but Grog has no such reservations, not even when he tried to ingest some very caustic materials. 

“Ooh! What are those for?” Grog exclaims trying to peak over his shoulder. 

“What? What is it Grog? Get out of the way I can’t see. Ugh.” Scanlan tries to look around the goliath blocking his view right now. 

“Nothing concerning you.” Percy replies but Grog talks over him.

“They’re fancy rings. Super shiny.” He says and Percy just sighs, pockets the set of rings and gets up walking around Grog and back towards the doorway. 

“You’ve been making some jewelled cock rings or something? I might have a commission for ya. Something with diamonds-“ Scanlan keeps going but Percy tunes him out. He’s had plenty of time to practice ignoring the bard after all. They continue their journey to the tavern Vox Machina had chosen.

The Tavern is already lively with people and music by the time they enter. The rest of Vox Machina had already taken up a table and safeguarded it from any thieves with death stares for those who didn’t recognise them. They’d already started dwindling the top shelf by the looks of it. You’re leaning your elbow on the back of Vex’ chair as she plays a game with Keyleth. You point at a card but in doing so, with some sleight of hand exchange it for Vex to gain the better hand. You haven’t noticed him yet, or so it seems. So Percy casually walks up beside you, lets his hand drift to your back to draw your attention and when you look over your shoulder, whatever words he wanted to say, fall completely silent. His lips part but no words leave. You chuckle and rise fully, brush your fingers along his arm and press your lips to his in a greeting. 

“Hello to you too.” You grin when you pull back and Percy’s somewhat come to his senses. You pass some coins to Vex who takes them with a ‘thank you, darling’ and keeps playing her card game with the druid. 

“What was that for?” 

“Well, I may or may not have lost a bet.” You lace your fingers with his and pull him along to the abandoned seats only to see yours has been dragged off to another table. You have half the mind to demand it back but haven’t had nearly enough to drink to start a tavern brawl this early into the night, so you just push Percy to sit in the remaining empty chair and sit yourself down across his lap. 

“Do elaborate.” His arm wraps around your waist as you lean over the table to grab the bottle of wine and an empt glass. You pour a drink and hand it to him while Pike slides over your own glass and you wink a thanks. She raises her cup. 

“Vex said you’d walk through the door willingly because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. I said Grog would drag you by the back of your coat while Scanlan loudly announced our esteemed presence to this good folk in song.” He gives you a disapproving look. You hide your smile behind your glass. ���Oh please, not as if it would have been unlikely.” The look fades very slowly as it only puts more truth to your statement. Were it any other situation he might have been the victim of just such a scene. 

“I don’t get it! Why do you always keep winning?” Keyleth hiccups and Pike and you share a look as the cleric quickly takes Keyleth’s cup, downs it, and fills it with water before putting it back in its previous place. You exchange a nod. 

“That’s because she’s cheating.” Vex might as well have shot him then and there given the look Percy receives at his comment. 

“Are you calling me a cheater, Percy?” Her eyes narrow leading you to interpose yourself between the two; an easily achieved feat given you’re in his lap. You tap his arm, telling him to let it go.

“I’m merely saying you apply different rules to the game than commonly accepted.” 

“I knew Vex wasn’t cheating.” Grog mumbles but gets his bubble burst pretty quickly. He still doesn’t get it though. An argument ensues though none of it serious. Keyleth tries to steal a card from the deck using her druidcraft but doesn’t pan out well. To be fair, drunk Keyleth and magic use have not and will never go well together, Voice of the Tempest or not. Before you know it some other patrons rather rudely insists you and your friends take this elsewhere or they’ll make you. You should have known the moment Grog smiled, this wouldn’t end well. And in a matter of seconds a fight ensued. It spread like wildfire like any tavern brawl does. You let them fight it out, stay seated with Percy as you two clink your glasses together. 

“So how has your day been?”

“Uneventful until now.” Percy speaks casually. “And yours?” You bite the inside of your cheek in the way he knows you to do when you’re trying to formulate a nice answer as opposed to a more unfiltered one. 

“Eventful. Given our friends arrived a couple of hours ago. You’re welcome by the way. I managed to keep them from exploring the clocktower on their own.” You take a sip of your wine. 

“Oh thank the gods.” He breathes in relief. You spared him a likely disaster. “How will I ever repay you?” He adds a bit more dramatically. Maybe it’s the wine. You laugh. 

“Marry me?” Were he less schooled in proper etiquette he might have spewed across the table. He looks around but no caught on, they’re too occupied in the fight. You’re content being a witness for now it seemed. Percy worries you might have caught on somehow, that you might have figured it out but you don’t let anything show. “I’m joking. Partially. One day. If you ask nicely but for now, think we should help them out?” You gesture to the tavern-wide brawl and save the bottle you two were sharing before someone is thrown onto the table and pummelled right in the face by Pike. 

“Yes. You’re probably right.” He blurts out and downs his whole glass. You down the last bit of your glass, a large swig from the bottle and get up. You offer your hand. Percy takes it as well as  the bottle as you help him to his feet. He feels like he is going to need that booze to deal with the near heart attack you gave him but before he can take a swig of his own he’s forced to turn the bottle into a weapon. Quickly he turns it in his grasp and hits it over the head of some man charging for the both of you. The man didn’t see the blow coming and glass shatters along with the remaining liquid inside. 

“What a waste of a perfectly good chardonnay.” You pout. 

“I’ll get you a new one.” He’ll buy you a whole cellar’s worth if you want. He might actually… 

“My hero.” You joke pulling Percy aside and aiming a high kick at the face of another drunkard coming for the two of you. You peck his cheeks before the fight continues and you’re no longer able to have this brief bubble of solitude. You’re in the fray now but you’re in it together. Together and you kick some ass. It’s magnificent and just as he had thought, it does feel like old times. You’re having a grand old time. He’s not ashamed to admit you saved his ass when he got a little sentimental and couldn’t shake a certain memory or simply stopped to admire your magnificence. 

But all good things get even better when the guard shows up and Vox Machina ends up running like some juvenile troublemakers. The guards didn’t notice who you were and you doubt any of you look like the respected and well known group of heroes in this state and so you took advantage of this. Scram! You ran and enjoyed losing their trail but as a group of stumbling oafs that’s an incredibly difficult thing to do and so you separated. You stuck with Percy pulling him into alleyway and street though he could have pointed out the fastest and quickest way back to the castle. It’s his city after all but he enjoyed living in this moment and when you pushed him against the wall a couple of times pressing close to him while trying to cover your own giggles, you were simply adorable. He was going to make this moment last. By the time you got closer to the castle district you’d been going so long what little booze you had had all but faded. 

“So how about we continue this inside over a bottle of true top shelf from Emon? I brought some from my last visit. I think you’ll appreciate the vintage.” The two of you begin to climb the stairs of Whitestone Castle. 

“That’s a fantastic idea…” You nod satisfied with his answer. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Percy can feel the blood pumping in his ears, his entire body is pulsing. He feels short of breath, and everything is just chaos but so right at the same time. You look over the city. 

“Did you hear that?” You wonder but Percy gently grabs your chin, turns you to face him and standing level with you; the castle to one side, the town to the other. This is it. This is the moment. 

“Tonight was quite enjoyable. I’ve missed times like these. My fondest memories are in the trivial things. I couldn’t help but reminisce-“ You smile and bring your palm up to cup his cheek. 

“Is that why you almost got a barrel to the head and thrown through a window? Because you got distracted?” You jest and peck your lips to his briefly brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. 

“I’m trying to say something nice and you’re making a fool out of me.” He returns in jest. 

“Okay okay. I’m listening. Please continue proclaiming your undying love for me.” He lets his fingers slip into your hair and gives an ever so light tug. “Oi!” You exclaim and roll your eyes at him but smile. You’ve had your fun. He knows you’re joking but little did you know in part that was very much his intention. The irony. He’ll forever hold it over your head. As you would want and expect him to do. He needs to keep you on your toes after all, or you might accuse him of slacking on the job. 

“I’ve not been the partner I should have been for the last few days. I’m aware of my flaws and you have put up with them, you’ve scolded me for them and pulled me out of my own insanities. You keep me walking the path I did not ever think I could. I owe my life, my home, my world to you and I could not ever repay you for what you have given me. I feel my life would be duller without you in it. I’d be lost with out you. Perhaps it is selfish of me to think so but I would love to have you at my side, to be at your side for the rest of our lives.” Rarely does he get you speechless. You always have something to say, some witty remark, some teasing quip or just some input. He’s always welcomed it. He always will but now it is your turn stand there wide-eyed processing his words, lips parted ever so lightly. You had been stroking your thumb along his cheekbone before but your motions had frozen. You try to formulate a response and he awaits patiently. 

“If you’re selfish then so am I. Let us be selfish together.” You smile and pull him into a deep kiss. He still hadn’t asked the question he intended to ask but he’ll take this moment. He gets caught up in it for a while until he breaks the kiss. He leans your head against his, reaches into his breast pocket. Your eyes dart to the side but you decide to ignore whatever caught your attention. He takes one of your hands and within it you feel something cold and metal. 

“Will you marry me?” Percy breathes. This is not what he intended or how he intended it to go but he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t analyse it to death. He couldn’t plan every single detail. This, this was just perfect. No grand displays, no banquet or a fancy ball. Instead it was a night out with a tavern brawl and a run from the authorities. It was perfect and now here, on the steps of his home, at the root of his life in this moment he entangles it with you. 

You look down, at the rings in your hand; two of them, one beautifully detailed but not ostentatious. The set stones are precious and enhance the design. The other is a slightly simpler version, more muted but still beautifully made. You’ve never seen anything like it. They’re unique and that’s when you realise what they’re made from. Your first job with Vox Machina. Percy had given his share to Vex as he always tended to do with his earnings. She resided over the finances. You’d come across a beautifully made silver broach, large and very ostentatious made from platinum and set with the most gaudy aquamarine and diamonds. You’d told him he should keep it; because you thought it matched his eyes and should he ever need a rainy day fund, that piece would make him a king for a day. He’d kept it. He’d kept it all these years. The stones had been cut down to smaller ones and the platinum melted to form the bands. They’re beautiful. They’re perfect and you know Percy well enough he would have trusted no jeweller with this task. He’d have trusted non but his own hands. 

“You made these?” You ask enthralled as you pick up the simpler of the bands. 

“Yes.” He’s practically shaking in anticipation. You take his hand, and place the ring around his finger. 

“If you even for a single second-“ His heart beats so fast he thinks he might pass out. He’d almost be more content facing the Briarwoods as opposed to dealing with this stress. 

“Of course I’ll marry you.” Percy feels like he can breathe again. 

“Oh thank the gods. I thought I might have fainted.” He chuckles as he takes the remaining ring from your palm and places it on your own finger. 

“I’d have caught you.” The image passes through his mind.

“Before or after you had a laugh?” He never said it was a graceful image. 

“Can’t have my husband-to-be mess up his handsome face, now can I?” You grin and press your lips to his entwining your hands. That satisfying feeling; of that cold metal against your skin, and feeling it on his, that’s something out of this world you could not have begun to describe. 

“Excuse me?! You were going to propose all this time and made us miss like half if it?” Scanlan pushes forward, clothes stained by you don’t even want to know what. “I would have made an awesome show! We could have had fireworks, music, hell, I’d even teach Grog an interpretive dance.”

“Intentrepative what now?” The goliath seems more focussed on the leaking barrel of ale on his shoulder. 

“Wait you’re engaged? To who?” Keyleth clearly hasn’t sobered up yet and is leaning on Vex who just pats the girl’s arm. 

“Let’s get you sobered up, Keyleth.” She begins dragging the druid past you and up to the palace but not without a quick “Congratulations.” and the implication of leaving you to enjoy your moment. 

“I’m officiating.” Pike follows suit and begins ushering the others forward as well. You watch them make their way up the stairs. 

“That’s our life in a nutshell, right there.” You claim. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” He takes a step forward and your entwined hands urge you to join. You do without a moment of hesitation, unable to wipe that smile of your face. Neither can Percy by the looks of it. That’s okay. You can be fools tonight. You’ll be fools in the morning still and when people come knocking. You’ll tell them to fuck off and be fools a moment longer. 

“You sure you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” You ask jokingly. 

“Oh yes.” That’ll do.