#i worked so hard on this so please give it love

[paucubarsisimp]

attention

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: in which lando and your son are fighting for your attention

warnings: two very clingy babies

a/n: first f1 fanfic! lmk what you guys think!

the house is eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the tv in the background. you’re curled up on the couch, flicking through a magazine, legs tucked beneath you. it’s one of those rare moments when everything feels calm—well, that’s about to change. because in this house, peace never lasts long.

theo, your five-year-old, suddenly bursts into the room, his little footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. he’s clutching a set of plastic blocks, face bright with excitement. “mummy, look! i built the biggest tower!” he exclaims, holding them up in front of you like a trophy, his wide eyes pleading for your praise.

you glance up and smile, your heart melting just a little at his enthusiasm. “wow, theo! that’s amazing! you worked so hard on it.”

just as you’re about to reach for the blocks to take a closer look, lando strolls in, hair still damp from his shower, a towel around his neck. he scans the room and spots you on the couch. his eyes gleam mischievously, and before you know it, he’s leaning toward you. “hey, that’s my spot,” he says, playfully pointing at your lap.

theo freezes, glaring at lando as if he just dared to commit a great injustice. “no! mummy’s mine!” theo declares, squeezing tighter around your neck, like a tiny koala.

you laugh softly, amused at how ridiculous this whole situation is. “boys, please. there’s enough of me to go around, okay?”

lando pouts, but it’s clear he’s not giving up that easily. “but i was here first,” he says with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the couch beside you. he leans in closer, clearly making a point to get as close as possible. “i want some attention too.”

theo, sensing the challenge, crosses his arms over his chest. “no, you can’t have her,” he huffs, his little voice firm and adamant.

you try to keep your composure, but it’s hard when both of them are giving you that look—like they’re both fighting for the same thing. your attention. “lando, theo, seriously. you both need to share. i love you both, no need to fight.”

but theo’s not backing down. “mummy, look at my tower! it’s way bigger than daddy’s race car!” he lifts the blocks again, practically shoving them in your face.

lando grins, his eyes narrowing with playful challenge. “oh, really? i think i’ve got a pretty awesome race car. much cooler than a tower.” he leans in, making sure you can hear his tone. “want to see it, babe?”

theo gasps in horror. “no! mummy! look at my tower!” he says, pushing lando’s arm away, as if he could physically block his dad from you. his tiny hands press against lando’s chest, trying to shove him back.

lando raises an eyebrow, impressed. “well, i guess he’s got a bit of me in him, huh?” he grins, nudging theo with his elbow.

theo shakes his head furiously, his little body tense as he pulls your arms tighter around himself. “no! mummy’s mine!” he says, his tone determined, though there’s an adorably stubborn edge to it.

you laugh, trying to calm the storm that’s brewing between your two favorite people. “boys,” you sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips, “can we all just get along?”

lando leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, fully aware that theo is watching. “well, i think i’m still winning,” he says, looking at you with a teasing grin.

theo, who had been trying to maintain his stance as the “only one worthy of mummy’s attention,” glares at his dad, then glances at you. “mummy, tell daddy he can’t sit here. i need you.”

you raise an eyebrow at theo’s bold declaration. “theo,” you start, chuckling, “i’m not telling daddy he can’t sit here. i love both of you. and you both need to share mummy’s attention.”

lando stretches out next to you with a dramatic groan, “but it’s so much more fun when i get all of it.” he nudges theo with his foot, a playful gleam in his eye.

theo crosses his arms, sticking his tongue out at his dad. “mummy’s my best friend,” he says defiantly.

“oh really?” lando smirks, raising an eyebrow. “well, i’m pretty sure i’m her best friend too.”

the battle rages on. and despite the chaos, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. because in the end, you have the best of both worlds—two amazing boys who will never stop fighting for your attention, and your heart full of love for them both.

[dashcon-two]

Fundraising for the Canadian Cancer Society

[ALT: A screenshot of the fundraising page for the Canadian cancer society, featuring the DashCon 2 logo]

Hey y’all! 

I’m Avis, the co-founder of DashCon 2, and I’d like to write something a bit more personal than our updates usually get. I want to start off with a huge thank you to all of you, from our mailing list to our tumblr followers. It’s genuinely insane that so many of you wanted tickets that you crashed Simpli Events and sold out 550 tickets in less than 20 minutes. Simone and I initially conceptualized DashCon 2 as a 300-person event, so we’re utterly blown away by just how much attention we’ve received.

Honestly, planning and expanding DashCon has been wild. We’ve always been a small, tight-knit team, and I’m really proud of just how far we’ve gotten. Especially because I almost left the project just a few months into planning.

My mom was diagnosed with cancer last August, and it threw a lot of my plans into uncertainty. It wasn’t the first time she’d battled cancer, and I know too well how hard it is to focus on anything in the face of the inescapable terror of losing her. This is why it means so much to me to announce that DashCon 2 is running a fundraiser for the Canadian Cancer Society. You can donate to our fundraiser at https://fundraisemyway.cancer.ca/campaign/dashcontwo. All donations from this page go directly to them, we couldn’t use any of it if we wanted to.

Thankfully, my mom is now once again cancer-free, but that doesn’t erase the many ways cancer has impacted my family, and the families of many people on the team. Nearly half of all Canadians can expect to be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime, and the Canadian Cancer Society does incredible work to fund research that actively improves the lives of cancer patients. My mom is probably the strongest, coolest, and kindest woman I know, and the Canadian Cancer Society’s work is part of why she’s still alive. 

Please, if you couldn’t get a ticket, or if you think we’re a scam and didn’t bother, give the Canadian Cancer Society any money you would’ve given us. We’ll be auctioning off merch, ball pit balls, and more in an official raffle, but we encourage you to give directly if you can. Given that our venue fees are paid, we can’t think of a better use for seventeen thousand dollars. DashCon 2 wouldn't be happening without our community's immense outpour of love and support, and we consider it our responsibility to pay it forward.

Moving onto somewhat lighter matters, unfortunately, we won’t be selling any more in-person tickets for DashCon 2. We’ve always wanted DashCon 2 to be a local convention first, and despite all the attention we received, we had trouble gauging how well our following would translate to actual attendance numbers. I’m really sorry that so many of you couldn’t get a ticket, but for now we want to focus on making sure that we run a fun, safe, and accessible event for 500 people before we move to a larger venue. 

However, all hope is not lost! We’ve thrown ourselves into expanding our plans for virtual DashCon 2! We promise we’ll start selling tickets soon, but for now I can tell you that we’re planning to run a great selection of virtual panels, stream some of the larger in person-panels, and maybe even stream a duel (if such a thing occurs). A portion of all virtual ticket sales will be donated to the Canadian Cancer Society. 

Thank you once again for all your support. Again, you can find our fundraiser at https://fundraisemyway.cancer.ca/campaign/dashcontwo. 

Thanks for everything,

Avis | DashCon 2 Co-Founder

[smutallyouwant]

Twice Fic World chp. 7

Twisted Company

Word Count: 2.5k

Mina x M reader, Momo and Sana x M reader

[ Spit play, Hard fucking ]

" Mhhhh, mhhhh, ugh~~ Y/N your dick is just the best " Mina moaned.

You've done your work early as usual and Mina took a time off to let out some steam with you. Mina' s cries of pleasure echoed in the emergency exit as you give her back shots while she held on tight to the steel handrail.

All of your things and clothes were on the floor except Mina' s top.

" Mmrmrhhh, hhhhushh, mhh "

Mina grinned and muffled her moans trying to silence herself. You then reached for her chin and held her face backwards to give her some kisses for her to release the tension.

Her lips were sweet as usual and both your tongue passionately rubs with each other and brings you tingle every time.

" I'm cumming baby, please don't stop, don't stop fucking me even if my body limped from the pleasure, ~~~ughh it feels so fucking good! " Mina pleaded in your face.

" Yes baby I'll keep fucking you until I burst this cum inside you "

" Yess babyy, that's right I'm cumming! I'm cumming! "

Mina covered her mouth to muffle her moans as her body trembles and her knee loses strength. Her eyes rolled in delight, she's now gripping the handrail barely maintaining her balance so you moved her facing the wall. You hugged her tightly and your other arm gripped her waist.

Mina' s sweet juices dripped to the floor and she's now letting her moan out not thinking that someone might hear her.

" Ughhh~~ ughhh~~ fuck, fuck, yessss babyy aaregh ! "

" Do you like fucking me Y/N? " Mina turned and asked with a cute but lustful smile.

" Yes baby, I love fucking you "

" Then cum for me baby, take it all out in my dripping pussy "

" Take it all out in your work slut' s pussy, see I'm still trembling from your dick hehe"

Mina teases you as she trembles from your work. She's been climaxing for a while, her body twitches and her pussy becomes tight as juices flow out in her.

" I'm cumming baby ! "

" Yessss, yesss, cum!cum! Cum already"

" Mhhhhhh~~~ ~~ughhh "

You moaned in unison as you plunged your length deep in her. Cum flowed out from her pussy mixed with her juices as you two made out while maintaining the position.

" That was so good baby "

Mina said after tidying up, you pecked her cheeks and lips more as the two of you hugged for a couple of seconds. You went out first before texting Mina that the outside is clear before both of you went to each other's office.

You waited for your time out while enjoying poker on your desktop and playing some offline games on your phone.

" Hey Y/N, I'll go home now Chae is waiting for me, bye "

Mina went to your block and said goodbye before leaving you with a smirk and a wink.

" Okay Mina, take care " you said with a smile.

You get ready to go home yourself. After arriving home, you took a nap right after taking off your pants.

It was 8:30 in the night when you were awakened by a phone call.

" What the heck, who's calling in this time? " You whispered to yourself.

Oh it's OIC Sana

Hey Y/N, Can you come here? *address* Please come I'll wait for you.

: Okay Sana, I'll be there.

You quickly took a quick bath and wore casual pants and polo. You went to the address and you're welcomed by two women giving you such alluring glances.

" Hi! Y/N ! " Sana greeted you with a smile before approaching you with a hug.

As you hugged Sana and felt her supple bossom, you're checking out the other girl she brought with her.

" Oh, you're... What was your name again? Sorry hehe " You pointed at the girl and apologized.

" Oh it's, Momo. We never talked at work so it's alright that you don't know my name Y/N "

" Oh yeah it's you, Momo "

" She's a friend of mine, I referred her to Jihyo to work for the company" Sana boasted.

" Oh, nice to meet you tonight Momo "

" Let's go Y/N, were drinking together tonight" Sana said as she pulled you by your biceps.

You can feel her side boob touch your skin from her tank top.

" Really? You woke me up from my sleep to have a drink? And I have work tomorrow Sana " you declined.

" Come on Y/N, just tonight pleaseee. Also so you can know Momo more hihi " Sana enticed you with her cute smiles.

" Okayy okayy fine, I guess, I'm not going to drink much okay? "

" Okay Y/N! " Sana excitedly answered.

" Sorry Y/N, my friend here is so high maintenance hahaha" Momo jokingly said.

" Yeah you're right"

" Hey, don't pick a fight on me! " Sana implied with a pinch to your cheeks.

You walked by a dimly lit alley and to an unfamiliar road.

" Btw, where are we going? I don't think there's a bar right around here "

" We're not going to a bar, stupid "Sana teases.

" We're going to Momo's place, we already bought our drinks inside Momo's bag "

Momo then let you take a look in her bag.

" Wow you're really prepared huh "

You arrived inside Sana's apartment and quickly prepared for the drinking sessions on the floor with a low table. Momo brought out roasted chicken legs and wings from her fridge and heated it in her microwave.

Sana took off her blazer polo and set it aside. You can now take glances on her silky white skin and observe her boobs shape from outside her top.

" Wait for me okay, I'll just change my clothes " Momo said to the two of you.

As Momo turned her back Sana faces you.

" Hey Y/N " Sana whispered as she pulled you for a kiss.

It started with some gentle pecks of your lips before it turned into a passionate make out. You grab Sana's neck as she caress your hair. Her lips are as sweet as pie and you can't get enough of her kisses. Your lips traced her chin with kisses falling down through her neck.

Sana just bit her lips and her gaze to you was seductive. But suddenly her grip into your hair loosens and she gently pushes you away.

Momo just arrived with piping hot chicken from the kitchen.

Both of you gave Momo some awkward smiles before Momo sat on the floor and started opening the drinks that they bought.

Sana is clingier as ever, casually hugging your biceps and pressing your legs as the three of you converse on the table.

Time went by and Sana was dizzy and was evidently drunk. Sana just stared at you like a statue for the whole 5 minutes while you talked with Momo about silly things.

" Hey Sana, you can kiss Y/N, you should not hold yourself "

As Momo said this, Sana smiled and pulled you for a make out session. You didn't dare to pull out but your eyes were locked to Momo drinking her shots. It looks like she doesn't mind so you continue on what you're doing.

Sana pulled out the kiss and looked at you with her gloomy and cute eyes. Before taking her shot that Momo made.

" You should tell me how you two ended up like this, aren't that just right Sana? "

" Hahaha yes, I'm sorry Y/N but Momo knows that we fucked in the office "

You were shocked and asked how she knows.

" Well I just told her hahaha, I told her that I fucked someone in the company and that I'll invite him to drink tonight, it was you Y/N " Sana said.

" I never thought it was Y/N, because she have a girlfriend"

" Ohhhh, hehehe " you said as you scratch your head.

" Aren't Mina your girlfriend? " Momo asked with a puzzled face.

" Uhmmm... no, it's just how we act together",

" That's it huh, so she's the one that joined you and Sana? "

Sana laughed as Momo deducted it all.

" My friend Jihyo, the company owner told me that she has a man that replaced me in sucking her boobs, it's kinda sad so I went to know who it is " Momo explained.

" Hey Momo, Y/N love big boobs, show him yours " she added.

" Huh? What? No it's alright Momo " you said in disbelief.

" It's alright Y/N we're all adults here, take a good look "

Momo said as she lower her tank top's straps and lowered it revealing her plump bosomy boobs.

" It's definitely big, I say it's close to Jihyo's but it's much more plump I love it"

" See he loves it already hahaha " Sana teased you.

You pulled Sana and put her on your lap. You caress her ass and pushes it the way that she grinds on your bulge.

" Let me get this off " Sana muttered as she unbuttoned your pants and removed it.

She's now grinding on her own as your arms linger on her back and thighs.

" Want to see my boobs too? "

" Yess please " you said with a smile.

Sana removed her top showing her perky tits that she made you suckle. Her grinding intensifies and her arms are wrapped in your head.

Momo grabbed the bottle of the gin that is nearly empty and drank all of its content before crawling near your face.

Sana grabbed you for a deep kiss and guided you to kiss her shoulders next.

" What can you say Momo? Aren't he good looking? "

" Yeah, he's not too bad "

Sana then palmed your face and guided it facing Momo, her tongue invaded your mouth, and your body responded to it naturally. After being satisfied with the kiss she bumped her boobs into your face ordering you to worship them.

You immediately obliged. Both your hands groped her tits as you suckle on her nipples simultaneously.

" That's it Y/N, show me how you love my titties "

While you're working on Momo, Sana takes the opportunity to lick and kiss every inch of your body. She first teases your nipples before going down and lucking up your toned abs. Sana is obviously a big 'abs ' girl, she massages your abs while licking them feeling every bump and corner that it has.

Momo switches to deep passionate kissing once in a while as Sana unbuckled your pants showing how hard you are even with your boxers on. She immediately removed them exposing your pumping hard dick.

" God I missed this so much "

Sana whispered before licking its head and shaft. She gently kissed your length covering it completely with her saliva before giving it some good sucking. You and Momo watched her as she gave you a passionate blowjob, her face shows how she loves sucking your big dick. She's not taking it too deep but her blowjob skills compensate for it. Her tongue swirls and licks the head every time she suckles it out, her checks gently presses your dick in between them but with accurate pressure that it doesn't hurt but feels too good. The stimulation makes your breath heavy and Momo anticipated that you're cumming. Momo caressed your back and she leaned towards you to suck your nipples adding pleasure to your body.

" Just like that Sana, I'm cumming "

Sana didn't dare to stop but kept the pace she was doing. As cum spurts in her mouth she kept on sucking but slowed down the pace to not overstimulate you. Cum kept on spraying on her mouth but nothing spilled in her mouth. She skillfully swallowed every batch of your cum every stride of her mouth.

" Was that good Y/N? " Momo asked as Sana kept on doing her work.

You nodded.

" Is my kiss good?" She added.

" Yes it was sweet and a little bit spicy "

" Then open your mouth " she commanded.

You obliged and she palmed your cheeks as she leaned forward and took out her tongue. Saliva dripped on it and you happily took it and swallowed it, it was weirdly good. Momo gently pulled in her tongue collecting more of her mouth water and out again for your another drink. After taking it, Momo made you suck her tongue.

" Very good Y/N, was that good? "

You nodded.

You did not know that you had this kink before having what had happened now.

" Is my blowjob really that good daddy? " Sana asked.

" Yes Sana it was so fucking good "

" Just call me baby, and we'll call you daddy "

" No, I'll call him my good boy. Is that right my good boy? " Momo asserted.

You nodded.

" Do you like my spit? "

" Yes Mo... "

Momo put a finger on your lips.

" Call me noona "

" Yes noona "

" Good boy "

Sana wasn't happy at all, she quickly removed her bottom and rode your dick that is already hard again. Momo positioned herself on the side and made you lay on your back. Momo stimulates your hard nipples again as Sana works in bouncing on your dick.

" Fuckk~~ it's so deep daddy it feels so good"

" I can't take it anymore " Momo mumbled.

" I'll sit on you okay? You'll drink my pussy juice this time "

Momo sat on your face, Sana switched into rocking motion as she leaned on Momo's back and fondled her boobs.

" Your boobs are so nice Momo, it makes me so comfortable " Sana teases Momo before giving her shoulders and neck some kisses.

You suckled Momo's clit and inserted your tongue in her pussy licking the top part of her insides, that made her moan in pleasure.

" Yes yes, just like that, ughh~~ good boy "

Momo started grinding gently on your face. Sana stimulates Momo's body, two women using your body to pleasure themselves.

" Yesshhh~ yeshhhh it's coming " Momo moaned.

" I'm cumming too baby! " Sana added.

The two of them began rocking their hips intensely.

" Aaaahgh!!! Uaarrghhhh! "

Momo screeched as she lifted hed hips up and squirted just above your head. A few pussy juice drips on your face but you don't mind at all. You just closed your eyes and did not breathe so you won't drown. Sana on the other hand plunged your dick deep in her tightening pussy and squirted on the spot.

" Ughhhh~ fuckkk that was so good "

Sana moaned as she trembled in pleasure, her pinch on Momo's nipples hardened.

" You ate me so good Y/N , that was really good " Momo said as she catch her breath and fixes her hair.

" Yeshhh it was so good "

Sana said as she pulled herself out of your dick, she was shaking.

" Whooo! Let me rest a bit " Sana implied.

" Then rest, I'll take his dick finally "

The three of you went to Momo's room where you fucked Momo from the back.

" Fuck it was really big, I'm full of your cock baby boy "

You pulled Momo's hair that made her scream she stared at you with an annoyed grin mixed with lust.

" I'm not your good boy, when I'm fucking you, you're my slut okay? I'm your daddy, you understand? "

Momo nodded.

" Then say it "

" Yes daddy, I'm your little fuck slut "

" Good girl "

You spat on her face, Momo was shocked but she instinctively collected the spit with her fingers and sucked on them.

" Fuck that was hot " you whispered

You repeated it two more times before you spat on your palm and painted Momo's face with your spit.

" Open your mouth "

Momo obliged and you used three of your fingers to play with her mouth. You gathered her saliva and made Sana suckle on your fingers.

" Slap my face daddy, punish your little slut"

You wasted no time shaping her well in the face. You slapped a few more times with your back hand and every time you did, her insides tightened and she couldn't help but scream her moans. After a few seconds, you felt a warm liquid flow through your dick, and Momo was trembling from pleasure.

" How dare you reach your climax before me you fucking bitch "

You then fucked her fast and you grabbed her cheeks to her mouth.

" I'll cum inside you, take it all! "

Momo's inside tightened up as you cum inside her.

" Good girl, good job tightening your pussy as I cum here's your reward"

You leaned towards her to give her a spoonful of your saliva.

" Let me have too! " Sana said

You gave her some of it too.

" You two share it "

Momo and Sana made out as you rest from the side, after catching your breaths you joined them and the three of you made out for a couple of minutes.

" That's so fucking hot, I can't believe how hard you're going with Momo "

" That's how she likes it, I loved it too though, right Momo? "

" Yess, fuck I didn't expect your dick to be that big and that good "

" What the fuck Y/N, are you planning to make a harem at our company? Hahahaha " Sana jokingly said and three of you laughed.

As much as you want to fuck the two of them a few more times, you still have to rest and work tomorrow. You made that clear to Sana earlier so she let you leave after waving goodbye to the two of them.

The next day...

You arrived early at the office intending to finish your work early again. You went directly into your block desk.

" Hey Y/N you're so early today "

Momo greeted you and it looks like she waited for you besides your desk.

" There's still no people in here at this time, would you like me to suck you off? I didn't get a chance yesterday"

" Fuck, okay let's to that, we have 20 minutes at most so you better be good at it "

" You bet, take it out and I'll start "

END

[wendichester]

I'm gonna be a little bit greedy because I loved the first one. 😁

I can't think of a particular situation, but can you just give me your best, heart-wrenching dean x reader angst? I know you'll do great cuz you write Dean so well.

Thanks love your stuff so much!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ghost of you,

summary. you're gone and dean doesn't know how to cope

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; super angsty!

wordcount. 499

notes. first, thank you for the leap of faith!!! i hope this manages to bring a tiny tear to your eyes ehe 🥺

Dean Winchester is good at losing people.

He’s been doing it his whole life.

His mom. His dad. Jo. Ellen. Bobby. Cas.

And now you.

You, who was supposed to be the exception. The one person he swore he wouldn’t lose, the one person he couldn’t lose, because if he did—

If he did, there’d be nothing left of him.

But life doesn’t care about what Dean Winchester swears.

It takes anyway.

He doesn’t remember much about the hunt.

He remembers blood. Your blood.

Pooling beneath you, warm and red and so much, spilling through his fingers as he pressed down, as he begged—

"Stay with me, sweetheart, c’mon, please—”

You were shaking. Your lips were turning pale. But you still managed to smile, soft and sad.

“Dean,” you whispered, and he almost screamed, because it sounded too much like goodbye.

But you died before he could make you promise it wasn’t.

The worst part isn’t the funeral. It isn’t the silence, the emptiness, the quiet ache of absence in every part of his life.

It’s the almosts.

The moments where he forgets.

Like when he’s driving, and he sees something stupid on the side of the road and thinks, She’s gonna love this, only to remember—

You’re gone.

Or when he wakes up after a hunt, body sore, reaching for you without thinking—

Only to find the other side of the bed cold.

Or when he hears someone laughing, and for half a second, his heart lifts, convinced it’s you—

Only for the world to gut him again.

You haunt him more than any ghost ever could.

Sam worries.

Dean knows he does. He sees it in the way his brother watches him, cautious and quiet, waiting for the day Dean breaks.

But there’s nothing to break.

One night, Dean dreams of you.

Not in the way he usually does—not memories, not shadows, not echoes of the past.

You’re there.

Standing in the bunker’s kitchen, barefoot and beautiful, wearing one of his old shirts, looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.

“Hey, baby,” you say, soft and sweet, like nothing’s changed.

Dean can’t breathe.

He rushes toward you, grabs your face, touches your skin like he’s trying to memorize the way it feels before you disappear again.

You don’t disappear.

You lean into him, warm and real, fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m here.”

Dean swallows hard. His vision blurs.

“This isn’t real,” he whispers.

You smile. “No.”

And then, quieter—

“But I wish it was.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t do this without you.”

You kiss him. Soft and slow and final.

“Yes, you can.”

When he wakes up, there’s an ache so deep inside him that he doesn’t know how he’s still breathing.

But he does.

Because that’s all he can do.

Because no matter how much he loves you—

No matter how much he misses you—

Ghosts don’t come back.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[lavandulawrites]

Daffodil

Yandere!Botanist/ flower shop owner x reader

This OC is inspired by a certain Lord of the Rings character. Ten points to those who can guess who;) I have been wanting to make a softer yandere OC for a while, I hope you like Oliver<3

Synopsis: Your friend shares her concern that your other friend, the sweetest man you know, is stalking you.

Masterlist

Oliver’s (Yandere Botanist) Character Profile

Warnings: yandere, original character, soft yandere, mention of stalking, manipulation, further murder?

Word count: 1478

Oliver was a sweet man. A gentle giant some would say. He was caring, kind, gentle and loving. Oliver loved to both cook and bake, and both he excelled at. His cooking rivalled that of the greatest restaurant, and his baking was so good that it had made you weep.

This is way the words coming from your trusted friend greatly shocked you and offended you.

“He isn’t right in the head [Name]. Maybe you don’t see it because you’re blinded by his sweetness and his caring nature, but please listen to me!” your friend pleaded. Her forehead was wrinkled in frustration and her eyes frantic. “I swear I am telling the truth! He is-”

“A stalker? Really? You seriously think I would fall for that nonsense??” you interrupted her in her ranting. You found it impossible to believe that the sweet man who’s love for kittens was as adorable as a kitten itself. The man who owned a little cozy flower shop, the shop that you always found time to stop by whenever you were on your way home from work or uni. Oliver always had time to listen to your struggles and he always managed to comfort you with either tea or the best hot chocolate you could ever ask for. His sturdy, but slightly soft body perfectly fitted his personality. Though be no fool, he was as strong as a horse, that had been clear for you when he had to help and push your little stupid car that had gotten stuck in the muddy ground. He was a handsome man, with kind brown eyes with golden flecks. He had wavy dark blond hair with light brown streaks. Freckles dusted his cheeks giving him a cute appearance. He was perfect. Your parents loved him, your siblings loved him and your neighbours loved him. You thought your friends loved him too, but that didn’t seemed to be the case for her.

Her eyes narrowed as you were lost deep in thoughts. She waved her hand in front of your face, which caused you to stagger backwards. “Hello??”

You snapped out of it and your eyes found hers. The truth was, that you had started to fall for your botanist friend. You had fallen hard.

“Sorry I got distracted…” you mumbled. “But no, I don’t believe you when you say he is a stalker. Do you even have any proof?” you ask her with a raised brow. You loved her as friend, but you were wounded by her hurtful claims.

“I have seen him sneaking around your flat. We almost always stumble upon him when we are out. It doesn’t even matter what we are doing” she shook her head.

“Really? That’s it? He lives close by, so it’s not that weird that we meet him from time to time” you sigh at your friend. This wasn’t enough to ring any alarm bells. At least not for you.

“Okay, okay. Listen, I know this is not enough to repost him or anything-”

“Report him?! Are you out of your mind?!” you exclaim in disbelief. Who in their right mind would report a man as sweet as Oliver?

“Please let me finish” your friend presses her hand gently on your shoulder to stop your outburst. You nod in response with a lower head and let her continue. “All I am saying is that it’s weird. So many coincidences… I also found it weird that he was in the same women’s store. And in the makeup section too?” your friend’s voice was laced with frustration.

“At least think about it, okay? And be careful. Promise me that” she gave you a pleading look.

Your friend’s words had plagued your mind for the last couple of days. At first you, you didn’t even want to give it a thought, but the more you thought about it, the more the uncertainty crept in. You stopped in front of the cozy flower shop. Even though it was late winter, the shop had quite the few customers. Beautiful flowers in all different kinds of colours were sat in the window, tempting the by-passer to come inside. The interior was old fashioned, with dark old wooden floors and light green floral wallpaper. Paintings with different flower motifs filled the walls were plants weren’t hung up in display. The counter was of the same colour as the floor with a emerald stone countertop. An antique golden register was placed on top the counter which further made you feel like you were in a different time period. A sofa was placed between two shelves on the short far-end wall. It was an old light blue sofa who Oliver had bought from an old lady. It was at least over hundred years old.

Oliver smiled from behind the counter where a costumer just had finished paying for a bouquet of red roses. The bell rang as the women left the store with the bouquet gently placed sun her bag. Now the store was empty save from the two of you.

“Hi! Enjoying the weekend so far?” the blonde man greeted you. His friendly smile revealing the dimples which you loved. He leaned slightly on the counter like a happy puppy.

Your heart fluttered by his cute gesture. “Hi! I am. I thought I should stop by and say hello as it was in the way” you returned the smile. “How are you? Have it been a busy day so far?”

“I’m quite good. Even better now that you are here. It hasn’t been too busy, but that’s okay as I needed to finish some flower bouquets for a weeding” his freckled cheeks slightly reddened. “How are you doing?”

You blushed slightly at his words, but quickly concealed it by looking away. “I’m also doing good”. You paused for a bit. Your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your woollen coat. You wanted to ask him about what your friend had said, but you didn’t want to sound rude or accusing. You sharply inhaled. “There is something I wanted to ask you about. I am sure it’s just a coincidence and I don’t mean to sound rude or anything” your words fell out in a fast flurry of words.

Oliver narrowed his eyes quickly before they returned to normal. “Go on” he said in his usual tone.

You hesitated for a moment before you closed his eyes and spurted out “A friend of mine has made me aware that I often bump into you on the most random places… At first I thought nothing about it, but after giving it a good thought, I must say that I agree with her. I mean it is probably just a coincidence, but still. I don’t mean to offend you or anything, but it is kinda strange?”. You give him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, but it is something that has been bugging me” After you had opened your mouth, you had instantly regretted it and you wanted to slam your head as hard as you could against the green stone of the counter.

Oliver’s expression darkened slightly before he smiled his usual warm smile. “I see…” he paused for a moment, clearly in deep thought. “Well, I do love quite close to you and my shop is even closer. Plus it’s not weird to see someone you know out in public” his smile softened. “You shouldn’t think to much about. But I promise you that it’s all coincidences. I hope I haven’t frightened you. Because that’s not my intention at all” he stepped away from the counter and rounded it. Oliver’s large hands gently clasped on your shoulders. He strokes his thumbs up and down in a calming motion. His sweet beautiful brown eyes look at you with utmost adoration. “Would you like some tea, my flower?”

You nodded. “Yes please. I’m so sorry for accusing you of such. That was uncalled for” you rub your finger down your nose bridge in embarrassment and frustration.

“Don’t worry. It’s alright. I am just happy I haven’t accidentally made you uncomfortable”.

As the botanist prepared you some floral tea, your thoughts drift. How could you be so rude to your beloved friend? He was pure hearted and would never hurt a fly.

Oliver hummed as he poured you both some tea. As he hummed on Here Comes The Sun by his favourite band The Beatles, he couldn’t help the anger that flowed through his veins like ice. Your so called friend had tried to tear you apart from him. That was not something he could allow. His nails dug into the wooden table and he could feel splinters stabbing the skin underneath his short nails. Your friend would come to regret her words and that soon. But first, he would lighten your mood with your favourite tea, for such was his duty.

[phone4pills]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐆

you want Chris’ love. he wants your ass. are you really about to do this ?

“Back up for me.” He didn’t hesitate, fingers drawn to your hip the second your ass hovered over his thigh, getting closer and closer until it hit his lower stomach. Chris groaned, sliding one hand up your body, getting a feel for himself; grasping your throat as though you weren’t out of breath as it was.

He snickered, pulling your head back as far as he could. “What? Y’not gonna get these pants off, baby?” His words lingered with the sinister honey dripping in his voice, sweet but all the same smug. Your arms moved behind your back, hands trying to find his zipper. Chris guided your hand towards it, at a painfully slow pace. You pulled his zipper down, eventually getting his pants down far enough.

There was no hiding his arousal under the thin layer that was his skims boxers. You slowly rolled your hips back, ass moving along his tent with a comfortable ease. Chris’ pelvis pushed into you, urging you to please him already. The man was far from patient.

You blushed, taking the fabric of his boxers between his fingers and pulling them down. His cock spring out, leaving a messy line of precum on your lower back. He hissed, grabbing you swiftly by the waist and pulling you off his thighs, easing you down onto his dick only seconds later. The stretch was unexpected but fuck it felt good.

You began to shift back and forth, a moan tearing through the heat in the room. Chris watched in awe as you moved along him, wanting to feel the rub of every wall, the squeeze into every crevice. Your head fell back, to which Chris sat up slightly, grabbing as much of your hair as he could in one fist. “Fuckin’ harder. I know you can.” You choked a gasp, causing his brows to furrow in disgust.

“Quit being a fuckin’ baby. Cmon, neither of us are leaving before I turn your insides white.” You gradually pushed hard enough, bouncing up and down on his cock. Chris groaned into your ear, his hot breath lingering on your neck for a moment. His tongue made a red, glossy mess of the skin caught between his teeth. You gripped his thighs, trying to persevere.

So much was going on. The sound of your ass slapping his crotch, the jockeys all over your neck. Chris’ possessive but satisfying hold on your hips, giving you the most help he was willing to. His chest against your back, slowly parting ways as he made his head comfortable on the headboard again.

“Chris! I’m gonna~” Your sentence was interrupted by an orgasm coming on hard, completely overriding any kind of thought that you may or may not have harnessed prior. Eyes rolling back, legs shaking: it meant fuck all to Chris. He still needed more. He began you guide you over his dick, hitting him where he needed it.

“Shit, m’doin’ all the work here.” He grunted, forcing you to keep riding him, despite how burnt out you were. But you wanted to make him cum. That’s the most dominance you’d get over him, even though you were already literally on top of him.

Chris bucked his hips into you, head sinking into the pillow beneath him. “Fuck me. Yeah, yeah just like that. Look at her, fuckin’ bouncing all on my dick.” Though he wouldn’t admit it, you looked sexy. It was a divine sight, the fat on your ass taking up most of his view, the cum leaking out of you into the dip between his legs. His blunt fingertips embedded into your skin, deeper and deeper until they couldn’t physically get past your ribs.

“Keep- fuck- keep going.” His cock twitched inside of you, tip aching with desperation. Then it snapped. You whined at the new found heat in your pussy. But Chris’ hand came over your mouth quick, hoisting you down so you lay on top of him, chests rising and falling.

“Shut up, just- jus’ give me a minute.”

— just gonna leave this here … ! divider by @strnilolover

- ©phone4pills

[00valentina-writes00]

♡♥︎ KNEEL FOR ME ♥︎♡

Warnings: oral sex (Ellie giving), fem!reader, reader is dominant, Ellie is desperate, praise & degradation, Ellie being down bad, messy head, begging, Ellie is so pussy drunk, slight dumbification

Ellie was on her knees—right where she belonged.

Her palms rested against the tops of your thighs, gripping hard, like she needed to hold onto something solid before she completely lost herself.

Which—fuck—she already had.

She was starving for you—eyes blown wide, pupils nearly swallowing the green, her freckled cheeks flushed as she looked up at you from between your legs, waiting. Begging.

Her breath was hot against your soaked cunt, and when she shifted forward—tentative, needy—you grabbed her short auburn hair, yanking her back.

Ellie groaned, her hands twitching, thighs clenching as she fought the urge to grind against nothing.

“Eager, aren’t you?” you murmured, watching the way her lips parted, how she fucking panted, like she was a hungry, desperate little thing.

Ellie nodded—frantic, dazed, so fucking needy it was almost pathetic.

“Please,” she rasped, her fingers digging into your skin. “Please, let me taste you—fuck, babe, I need it so bad, c’mon, lemme—”

You hummed, pretending to think about it, letting her squirm beneath you, letting her sit there on her knees while you stared her down.

Ellie shuddered, eyes flickering to the way your slick dripped down your thighs, how your legs trembled slightly from the anticipation.

Her jaw went slack, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, and you felt her whole body tremble as she tried to stay still, tried to be good.

“Use your words, Ellie.” You tightened your grip in her hair, tilting her head back slightly, watching as her breath hitched, as her brows furrowed, her entire expression so wrecked, so needy.

She swallowed hard, her voice breaking when she whimpered, “P-Please, lemme eat you out, baby, I—fuck, I wanna make you feel good, please, I’ll be so good, I’ll—”

You smirked, pulling her in suddenly, pressing her right against your soaked cunt, and Ellie moaned so fucking loud, her arms wrapping around your thighs, holding you in place as she immediately devoured you.

“God—fuck, that’s it,” you breathed, throwing your head back as Ellie’s tongue worked you over, fast, messy, like she’d been starving for it all fucking week.

She was insatiable, sloppy, the sounds coming from her lips downright obscene as she sucked, licked, kissed every part of you, moaning against your heat, practically making out with your cunt.

She was so fucking good at this, her tongue flicking over your clit, dragging down to your aching entrance, fucking inside you—

Your legs shook, and Ellie groaned when she felt it, her fingers digging harder into your skin as if to ground herself, her own body trembling with need.

“You love this, don’t you?” you murmured, breathless, looking down at her.

Ellie nodded frantically, her lips swollen, glistening with your slick.

You grinned, yanking her back by her hair again, forcing her to look at you—and the sight of her nearly made you come right then and there.

Her pupils were blown, her mouth hung open, her chest heaving, panting, cheeks flushed as she fucking whimpered, her own thighs pressing together desperately.

You chuckled, dragging your fingers down her freckled face, tracing the way her cheeks were burning hot.

“Such a messy girl,” you mused, rubbing your thumb over her spit-slicked lips. “Can’t believe you get off on this.”

Ellie whined, tilting her head, chasing your touch, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your thumb before sucking it into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.

You groaned, tugging your hand away, and Ellie almost whimpered, already chasing you again like she couldn’t bear to not have her mouth on you.

She wasn’t fucking thinking anymore.

She was gone, completely lost in you, so desperate, so fucking ruined, just from eating you out.

It was a beautiful sight.

You smirked, pressing her face back against your cunt, and she moaned like she was in fucking heaven, her arms tightening around your thighs, her body tensing as she got back to work, more frantic than before.

You shuddered, pleasure mounting, your hands threading through her hair, guiding her movements, pushing her deeper, harder, until she had no choice but to breathe you in.

Ellie fucking whimpered, her hips grinding against nothing, chasing her own pleasure just from eating you out, from pleasing you, from being used like this.

“That’s it,” you breathed, watching the way her eyes rolled back, how she moaned against your pussy, how her body shook as she teetered on the edge of something devastatingly intense.

She was gonna fucking cum, and you hadn’t even touched her.

God, she was such a loser for you.

And you fucking loved it.

[gf2bellamy]

Hi hello!

Oh my gosh I love your work so much like you are the absolute GOAT of Spencer fluff fics.

If it’s not a bother, can I please request reader starting her first day at the bau and she’s all shy and nervous because she’s the youngest and wants to make a good impression and as she’s greeting everyone she goes to shake Spencer’s hand he does the whole thing about pathogens and says how it’s safer to kiss and her being so flustered just goes ‘oh okay’ and gives a quick peck on his cheek without thinking and scampers away leaving him completely dazed?

impressions — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: statistics about bacteria , reader being nervous a/n: thank you so so much !!! that actually made my day thank you <3333333 i hope you like this :)

Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you were convinced everyone in the bullpen could hear it.

You had barely stepped through the doors of the BAU, and already, nerves were twisting in your stomach like a tangled mess of wires.

Your first day, your first real job with the FBI, and, perhaps most daunting of all, the knowledge that you were the youngest agent on the team.

Someone had been kind enough to guide you through the bullpen.

It was surreal, stepping into their world.

You took a deep breath, forcing your feet to move forward, and stopped in front of the door to Aaron Hotchner’s office. You quickly smoothed your hands over your neatly pressed blazer, as if that would somehow make you appear more put together than you felt.

Swallowing hard, you raised a shaky fist and knocked.

“Come in.” The voice was firm, authoritative, but not unkind.

You exhaled, steeling yourself, and pushed the door open.

Aaron Hotchner sat behind his desk, looking up from a file in front of him. His expression was unreadable, sharp eyes scanning you in that way you imagined only a profiler could.

You quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind you.

He greeted you with a small smile, standing up as he extended a hand. “Welcome to the BAU.”

You shook his hand as firmly as you could manage, hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy your palm was. “Thank you, sir. It’s—” You hesitated, your mind scrambling for words that didn’t sound completely ridiculous. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Hotch gave you a small nod, motioning for you to take a seat across from him. “I’ve read your file. Your record is impressive.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your heart rate picked up. “I, um—thank you, sir.”

“I know this unit can be… intimidating,” he continued, leaning forward slightly. “But you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t capable. I trust that you’ll prove yourself.”

This settled some of the nerves still twisting in your stomach.

“I’ll do my best,” you said, meaning every word.

“I expect nothing less.” Hotch nodded with a small smile at you.

“The rest of the team is in the conference room,” Hotch continued as he stood, already moving toward the door. He pulled it open for you, nodding for you to follow.

As you stepped into the bullpen, trying to steady the nerves still buzzing under your skin, Hotch continued, “We have a case in Texas. You’ll be briefed shortly.”

Right. No slow introductions, no easing into things. You had expected as much, but it still made your stomach twist with anticipation.

This was it—your first case, your first real step into the world of the BAU.

Just as you rounded the corner toward the conference room, a blur of movement caught your eye.

Spencer Reid was practically sprinting through the bullpen, his satchel bouncing against his side as he hastily adjusted his tie. He skidded to a stop just in front of Hotch, his curls slightly disheveled, his breath uneven.

“Sorry I’m late,” Spencer said quickly, pushing his hair back from his face. “The metro had a delay, and then I was going over some of the Texas case files and lost track of time—”

Hotch held up a hand, cutting off the ramble. His expression was unreadable, but the sharp look he gave Spencer was enough to make him straighten his posture.

“Reid,” Hotch said, a quiet warning in his tone.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry.”

Hotch sighed but let it go, instead turning to you. “This is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

You took a step forward, offering a polite smile as you extended your hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Spencer glanced at your outstretched hand for half a second before grimacing slightly. “Oh, uh—I don’t really do handshakes,” he said, hesitating before explaining further. “Handshakes transfer more bacteria than any other common form of physical greeting? Studies show that the average handshake can transfer up to 124 million bacteria in just a few seconds.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

Spencer nodded, entirely serious. “Statistically speaking, it’s actually safer to kiss someone than to shake their hand.”

You blinked.

For a moment, your brain completely stalled.

Kissing.

Safer.

Without thinking—without even processing what you were doing—you leaned in and pressed the quickest, most flustered peck to his cheek.

Spencer went completely still. His mouth fell open slightly, his wide eyes blinking in rapid succession as if his brain had just short-circuited.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you forced yourself to straighten, offering him a small, nervous smile—because what else were you supposed to do?

Before either of you could say anything, Hotch pushed open the door to the conference room. You stepped in immediately.

Spencer, meanwhile, was still frozen in place.

His mouth hung open slightly, his brain working overtime to process what had just happened.

Hotch gave him a look. “You walked into that one.”

Spencer barely heard him. His hand drifted up to his cheek, still warm from the press of your lips, and he stood there, completely dazed, as the reality of his morning took an unexpected and utterly bewildering turn.

[munsonsmixtapes]

hi! i have a jayvik prompt for your consideration, with jayvik finding it difficult to concentrate in the lab while you are there, and keep making mistakes because of it. can be as spicy or sfw as you like ofc

This is the first fic I've written about Arcane so please be gentle with me!

cw: allusions to smut

You know how difficult it is for Jayce and Viktor to focus when you’re in the lab. You only end up there because you love to hang out with them and maybe you’re trying to get them to admit that they’re interested in you. You’ve been conducting an experiment of your own, to see how long it will take them to finally make their feelings known, but it seems that wearing low-cut tops and short skirts had only just made them drool instead of making a move. 

Viktor at least compliments you while Jayce just gets flustered when you get close. His cheeks turning bright pink as you shamelessly flirt with him as you back him up to the desk. You love making pretty men stutter. He wants you so bad, always staring at your lips when you talk to him. It’s pathetic but he doesn’t care. You actually find it to be adorable.

Viktor is very upfront about his feelings, though, making it very clear that he wants you. He’ll lean on you when he doesn’t feel like using his cane and he loves that you will hold onto him, letting him lean his head on your shoulder. 

And while Jayce does feel a little jealous, seeing you together ultimately just sends him into a bi panic. He loves watching the way your hand slides up and down Viktor’s back as he writes on the chalkboard and the way you’ll help Viktor sit on the desk when he gets tired then stand between his legs as he pulls you into his arms. How can he even be upset when the two of you look so good together? 

Today, though, you’re sitting on Jayce’s desk when he comes into the lab, kicking your legs back and forth as you eat the sandwich he had left there for you this morning. Your face lights up when you see him, finishing your last bite as you motion for him to come closer, holding your arms. 

“Hey, handsome,” you greet as your arms wrap around his shoulders, his wrapping around your waist, his face burying into your neck just like always. This is his favorite moment of every day that he sees you, he thinks, being wrapped up in your touch as you hold him for however long he wants. 

This is going to be a long hug. He’s been struggling with one of his Hextech inventions and just needs your reassurance to be able to fix it. You’re always so encouraging and he feels like he needs that to today. 

Once he reluctantly pulls away, he sits in his chair, having to turn away because he can see up your skirt and he knows that he shouldn’t be looking. He just turns every so slightly, picking up his screwdriver to work on one of the weapons he’s created, trying his hardest to not think about how badly he wants to bury his face between your legs and eat you out until you’re crying his name. 

Viktor can’t focus either having dropped his pencil more times than he can count as he’s been trying to work on a sketch of one of the newer projects. You just look so beautiful and he can’t focus, his eyes staying on your lips as you flirt with Jayce, leaning over ever so slightly, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage that he stares at for a few seconds before snapping out of it. 

It’s getting sad, you think, so you’ve finally got to do something about this whole thing, finally make a move on both of them. You love the longing looks, but this is just getting pathetic at this point. So you turn Jayce to face you and hold his face gently in your hands, pressing your lips to his. He gasps into your mouth but quickly melts into you, pliant under your touch, willing to let you do whatever you want to him. He’s putty in your hands. 

Viktor is becoming concerned with how much he’s enjoying watching the two of you kiss, concerned with the fact that he’s getting hard. He’s always been attracted to the two of you separately, but seeing you together is making him want you even more, desperately wishing he could be part of it.

Your hands slide into his hair and he’s moaning into your mouth as his hands slide up your thighs as your place a foot on each side of his chair. He’s trying to pull you into his lap when you pull away, watching his eyes fill with lust. He lets out a whine as you hop off the desk and you just shake your head at him. 

“There’s no need to be greedy, baby,” you tsk. “Viktor needs a turn.”

Viktor turns around fully and his eyes widen as you lean down over him, kissing him more hungrily than you had kissed Jayce and he’s eating it up, whining as your tongue slides into his mouth, roaming around as you put something in between his shirt and vest. You give it a pat then pull away, smiling down at him, seeing his parted lips as he stares up at you, his eyes filling with lust just like Jayce’s. 

You motion for both of them to come closer with your pointer finger and they’re quick to stand, Viktor moving slower as he has to reach his cane. You’re moving to the door and they’re both following you like lost puppies, desperate for more of whatever you just gave them. 

“Viktor has a key to my apartment where I’ll be waiting for the two of you after you’re done here. I think we all could have some fun together considering the chemistry we all have. If you don’t come, I completely understand, but I’d really like for you too.”

“I’ll be there,” they both say in unison, so quickly that you barely understand them, but your face lights up at their agreement. 

“Perfect!” You respond then press kisses to each of their mouths before fleeing the lab, leaving Jayce and Viktor, neither of them wanting to discuss the fact that this is going to turn their friendship into something vastly different and it will never be the same. Neither of them care, though, looking forward to spending the night with you and each other, counting down the hours until they’re done with their work.

[bakuchrome]

WILDFLOWER

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Master List

Bakugo never cared about his reputation. He was a hero, a damn good one, and that was supposed to be enough. But with every explosion, every pissed-off rant at reporters, and every viral video of him telling a villain to "sit the hell down," his agency wasn’t exactly pleased.

They wanted him softened. More palatable. Someone the public could root for in a safe way. So they made a call.

And that’s how Tsuyu Asui became his fake girlfriend.

It wasn’t her idea, but she agreed— calm, logical, a perfect contrast to Bakugo’s temper. The media ate it up. Headlines praised his 'gentler side.' Paparazzi photos of their staged coffee dates were plastered everywhere. People started to believe that maybe Dynamight had a heart underneath all that fire.

But you?

You knew the truth.

Because Bakugo Katsuki might have been 'dating' Tsuyu for the world to see, but behind closed doors, in stolen moments, and in the way his hands always found you in the dark— he was yours.

The first time you heard about the fake relationship, you laughed.

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

Bakugo glared at you from across the room, arms crossed, a vein threatening to pop in his forehead. "Yeah? Well, tell that to the dumbasses at my agency."

You tilted your head, watching him. He was tense, more than usual. And that meant something.

"Does Tsuyu know this is fake?"

"’Course she does, idiot," he scoffed. "She doesn’t give a shit— she’s just helping me out."

"Right." You leaned back, crossing your arms. "And you’re fine with this?"

"Obviously not, dumbass!" His voice spiked, and he groaned, rubbing his temples. "But what the hell else am I supposed to do? They’re threatening to pull my damn endorsements— say I’m 'too aggressive.'"

You stared at him. His jaw was locked, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"You are aggressive, Bakugo."

His red eyes snapped to yours. "Yeah? And you like it."

The words sent a rush of heat down your spine. Because he was right.

You had known Bakugo for years. You had seen every side of him— the ruthless fighter, the stubborn idiot, the boy who loved so deeply it scared him. And this? This was some PR bullshit that didn’t belong to him.

"You could say no," you said softly.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "And what? Let them ruin my image? Make me out to be some kinda—" He clenched his teeth. "—villain?"

And that was the part that killed him the most.

Bakugo had spent his entire life proving he wasn’t like him. That he wasn’t another Shigaraki, another Dabi, another cautionary tale of power left unchecked. He had worked for this. Bled for this. And now, the world wanted him to play nice, or they’d take it all away.

You swallowed hard.

"So, what now?"

Bakugo sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. "Now," he muttered, "I pretend to be in love with someone else."

And you hated how much that hurt.

The first time he kissed Tsuyu in public, you saw it on the news.

It was a quick thing— just a brush of lips outside a café, cameras flashing, a reporter gushing about how 'Dynamight is finally showing his softer side!'

You had to turn off the TV.

Because the thing about Bakugo was— he didn’t do half-measures. If he was pretending, he was going to make it look real. He was going to sell the lie.

And it made you sick.

That night, he showed up at your door.

You almost didn’t let him in.

"Go home, Bakugo."

"Open the damn door, please."

You froze. Because Bakugo never said please.

When you opened it, he looked— wrecked.

His hair was messier than usual, his eyes dark with something unreadable. He wasn’t wearing his usual scowl, wasn’t posturing like he had something to prove. He was just— there

"Don’t," you whispered. "Don’t come here after you just—"

"It’s not real," he said, stepping closer.

You clenched your fists. "It looked real."

His jaw tightened. "I know."

"Then maybe you should go back to her."

His eyes flashed. And then— before you could push him away— his hands were on your waist, his lips crashing into yours, desperate and real and nothing like what you saw on the news.

You gasped against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hoodie as he backed you against the wall.

"I hate this," he rasped. "I hate this fucking lie—I hate that I gotta do this when all I want is you."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. "Then stop."

His breath was ragged, his forehead pressing against yours. "I can’t."

"Why not?"

"Because they’ll take everything from me," he murmured. "And I can’t lose this."

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. "And me?"

His grip on you tightened. "I’m already losing you."

The words knocked the air from your lungs.

Because you knew— you knew— this wouldn’t last. That eventually, something would break. Either you, or him, or this whole stupid act he was playing at.

But for now— just for tonight— his hands were on you, and his lips were on yours, and he was saying your name like it was the only thing keeping him breathing.

And you let him.

Because if Bakugo Katsuki was a wildfire— then you were already burning.

[mysteria157]

I apologize if this is all over the place…lots of thoughts!

Lu…

This truly made me tear up. It’s so rare to see post shibuya Nanami and I’m glad you picked up the pen. Every piece of this was so brutally emotional. To see the Nanami we know—that self-sufficient man who works in absolutes and knows exactly how much effort he wants to give—reduced to this. Alive—but scarred emotionally, mentally, and physically. Reduced to home health aides and his students. You paint it so well.

And it’s raw. The reality of this situation is that Nanami was burnt so bad. And you don’t hold back at all. Describing his wounds, the fact that he has a face mask, a cane to help him around the house.

But through it all…what really made me tear up. And I was truly tearing up, were his morning affirmations. It’s just…I don’t even know how to describe it. To know that Yuji sent them to him and Nanami decided to do it?

“I embrace healing.”

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is new to you.”

“It’s a new day. New chances.”

This is healing. The gritty, frustrating, and terrible parts of it. You don’t just bounce back from 3rd and 4th degree burns. And not only that, but you don’t just bounce back from the emotional turmoil of losing more of your close friends, of playing the part as a sorcerer.

He deserves so much love, it’s insane.

I love how you’ve written reader. You can see that flicker of tenacity in her but she’s patient and measured, funny as well and she doesn’t hover. Keeping him occupied while also assisting with the salad. The mention of her ex and how she moves on so quickly (I need to know more Lu please).

Nanami wants that independence but isn’t ashamed to admit what he needs help with. He’s trying so so hard and the scene at the end when he’s trying to cut the tomato. I could feel that frustration, that hopelessness.

“This feels like it’s never going to get getter.”

But you still paint that hope. When he asks if he’ll be able to cook again, when he finally acquiesces and asks for your help with his fork, you can see that Nanami isn’t going to give up. And we all know pookie is not a quitter.

God…I truly hope you make another part to this. The way it ends and just how much emotional ground that can be covered…this deserves a Lu Part 2. One of my favorite post shibuya nanami fics.

Thank you for writing this. Truly. I love fics that show the depth of Nanami that we do not see or are easily overlooked. I love this man so much and you made me smile while I read this. Even through the tears.

Thank you for your wonderful words, Lu 💕

Lifetime

post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader

A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.

Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.

content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.

wc: 4.9k

an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.

I.

Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.

First at home session since being discharged.

4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.

“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.

He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.

So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.

“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.

“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”

Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”

He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.

As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.

>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.

Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.

“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”

“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.

Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.

It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him­— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.

Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.

It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.

The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.

“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.

One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Mr. Nanami?”

“That would be me.”

“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”

No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.

“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.

You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?”

Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”

Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.

“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”

“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”

The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.

“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”

“It happens.”

You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”

Nanami nodded. “Yes.”

“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”

His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”

“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”

“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”

Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”

“But you aren’t. I am.”

The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”

A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.

His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.

“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.

“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”

“What if I don’t want extensive help?”

“I would respect the boundary.”

Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”

“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”

Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.

“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”

“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”

He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”

Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”

That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.

“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”

Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”

Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.

“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”

“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.

“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”

You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”

Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”

“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”

The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.

___________________________________________

The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.

He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.

“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”

Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.

His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.

He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.

“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.

Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.

Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.

Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.

He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.

Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.

Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.

Slow and steady. Nice and easy.

“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”

He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.

The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.

The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.

The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.

Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.

He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

7:55 am.

“Timely.”

slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.

He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.

“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.

“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”

It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.

You nodded. “That sounds good.”

You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.

Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.

“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.

“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.

Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”

“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”

Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”

Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”

The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.

“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”

He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.

“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”

You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”

A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.

“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”

With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.

It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.

A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.

You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.

You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.

After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.

You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.

“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”

It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.

You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”

His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.

He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.

Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”

You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.

_______________________________________

The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.

During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.

You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.

Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.

“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”

The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.

“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”

Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”

The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”

He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”

His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.

Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.

“You have some really great knife skills.”

You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”

“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”

“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”

Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”

You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”

He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”

“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”

Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”

He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.

“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”

Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”

You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.

He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”

Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.

The fork slipped.

The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.

He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.

A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.

His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.

“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”

Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”

He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.

You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”

“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”

“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.

The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.

You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”

Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.

His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”

The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.

You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.

Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.

He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.

You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It's an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'I never thought I'd be writing to someone like you, but you've shown me a different side of things. I hope that my emails give you comfort and can help you through. Even on the other side, they get me through my day. I'm always excited to read when there's a ding in my inbox.

I hope you also enjoy the little bit I could put in your commissary. If I lived closer, maybe I could bring you something homemade. At the moment, bus fare is a bit too much for my pockets.

Anyway, signing off.

Yours,

Diamond'

You add a whole line of heart emojis to the email then hit send. You giggle and click on the next. You don't have the heart to copy and paste so you add a bit of variety to the next.

This one is... Thor? That's his name. He's a funny one. Considering he's in the pen, you're surprised by that. The others are so dire; pushy too.

You hit reply on his last email. Something about a fight and apologising for not replying earlier. He says he was in solitary for a whole week. That sounds miserable. The thought is enough to scare you straight. It's why you've never done anything wrong in your whole life. Until now.

It's not really wrong. It's allowed. It's legal. You're just sending messages. If anything, it's a community service. These men don't have much more contact than each other and that's a recipe for chaos.

You won't admit that other reason aloud. That tickly feeling in your stomach. When they compliment you, when they say they missed you. You can't help but smile, even giggle sometimes. It's nice to be appreciated, even if it's all a fantasy.

You'll never meet these men. That's the fun part. You don't have to worry about any of this. Maybe that helps. Maybe you think too much when you're face-to-face. That explains why every cute guy you talk to sees past you.

'I forgive you, sweetie. It must have been so hard in there. The important thing is you replied. I got so worried! I hope that after all that, my email can bring a bit of comfort. I have to be honest, I never thought I'd be chatting with someone like you. That I could find this type of connection. Please, take care and email soon.'

Another parade of emojis follows and you send it off happily. Now you just have to wait and see who gets back to you first. If it's Ernie, you're not sure you'll respond. He's been fixated on his cell mate and his emails are getting a bit scary. That's the other great part. You can always just delete and block.

The response comes an hour later. You're sleepy and ready to pass out. You read it anyway.

'You are so kind, my queen.' You giggle. Yeah, he calls you that sometimes. If only he knew you were sitting in bed with an ice cream sandwich wrapper and your cell phone. Definitely not queenly behaviour. 'I got through it by thinking of you, of dreaming of the day when we can talk face-to-face. Wouldn't that be lovely? For all my mistakes, I think they will mean something if you and me can be together.'

You make a face. He's so cheesy. You can't help but laugh again. You're not trying to be cruel, you do empathise with his situation, you can't imagine being in prison, but like anyone else, he earned his time. There's one last light.

'If it isn't too much trouble, would you kindly send a picture so I have a face to admire in my lonelier moments? I've attached my own. Forgive me as it dates a few years back.'

You're not smiling anymore. You haven't sent any of the men pictures. They haven't offered theirs but you can look up their mug shots easily. You hate to ruin the fantasy but curiosity has you tapping the attachment.

Oh. You're surprised. He's older than you in this picture and by his own confession, is more so now. But he isn't repugnant. Anything but. Tall, blond, thick! You don't know if you've ever seen a man that size.

Even in a suit, it's obvious that his arms are bulging and his chest is ripe to burst out as the jacket button clings for dear life. The photo is cropped so that whoever he took it with is out of frame. His blue eyes sparkle above a defined smile. Has prison worn down all that?

You squirm. Guilt needles in your chest. You could close out and worry about it in the morning. You shouldn't be that sympathetic. He's still a criminal. You can say no. Easily. What's he going to do about it?

What could it hurt? If he saw your face. It's not like anyone would know. That anyone would recognise you or that he could find you anywhere else. You keep your social media anonymous. You aren't like the influencers who get attention just for being pretty.

It's that that gives you pause. You aren't anything but average. It's easier to pretend you're some pretty thing as you message these faceless men. Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe once he sees you, you won't have to worry about all that other stuff. He'll cut you off at the pass.

The thrill of it overwhelms your reluctance. It's like gambling, it could go either way.

You start a new message. More meaningly rewording of previous sentiments. Nothing new. Then you scroll through your photo roll. You take a breath and press down on a photo you think isn't half bad. It's from market day you went to with your aunt. Not exactly cutting edge but fun. She snuck in the shot as you smiled down at your gooey cinnamon roll. The impromptu snap is better than most of your posed ones.

You send and quickly lock the phone. You shove it under your pillow and swipe up the wrapper beside you. You leave it on your night stand and sink down, your insides swimming with anxiety. You're going to regret this in the morning.

🎀

'Will you call me?'

The question makes you sweat. You don't know why you feel bad. You've said no before. To him. To all of them. You draw a thick line between your secret little hobby and your real life. You shouldn't have ever sent that photo.

Despite your regret, you smile. His response was more than you could expect. The praise! You don't know that anyone ever even called you cute but he as good as wrote you a poem about your beauty. You have to remind yourself, given his circumstance, he's starved. He'd probably think your nan is sexy.

Still, you're having a hard time typing those two letter; N-O. Thor is so nice. And he asked so sweetly. But you can't do that. What if someone found out?

This whole thing is starting to feel like a big mistake, but it's so much fun. When in your life will men ever be this into you? When have they ever?

'I could call' you type without thinking. What are you doing? 'Let me know how to do that and we can set a time maybe.'

Don't hit send. Don't hit send.

Email sent.

Shit. Oh gosh. Why did you do that?

You close your laptop and leave it on your desk. You need to get ready for work. You can't be worrying about a man you'll never meet. It's all virtual, it's not real. You'll be okay.

You get yourself together and brace yourself for work. You don't really like your job. You work the counter at a tech repair shop. Independent so it's small and slow. Your boss is a bit strange too.

The only benefit is it's close and it pays a few bucks more than the alternative. You're even allowed to work on your online courses at the service desk. Really, it's perfect. You guess you're just not happy with things being boring.

You blow over the lid of your Sailor Moon travel mug and knock on the door. Jensen lets you in with a grin and stifles a yawn in his elbow. You step past him with a sheepish smile.

"If it isn't the champion of justice," he greets smugly and locks the door. You won't open for another half hour.

"Huh?" You go to the counter and slide your bag onto the shelf underneath.

"Your cup," he crosses the shop. “I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice. In the name of the moon, I will right wrong and triumph over evil… and that means you!”

"Oh, right," you snort at his cheesiness. "You have espresso or something?"

"Red bull," he admits guiltily.

"This early?"

"Early? I never went to sleep," he comes around and goes back to typing on his glowing gaming computer. "Couldn't let my crew down."

You could roll your eyes. All he does is play Fortnite or Halo. He looks like he does too. Yet, he's in here moping after every rare stunner that walks through the door. That's why you'er there. He gets all tongue-tied with women. Well, all of them but you.

"You should join the party," he suggests.

"Well, I don't really play anymore," you shrug. "It was only for fun. My siblings... like it."

"Oh yeah, how's the family?"

"Good, I guess. They don't really call."

Your mom's too busy rebuilding her life with your step-dad. Rather, building the perfect life she never had. You sigh and open up your laptop. You grab your coffee and sip. You're tired of being forgotten.

"Jake," you say, he winces at the use of his first name, "Jensen," you glance at him, "you're a dude."

"Yeah, I am" he answers uncertainly.

"Well, you might know more than I do. You know anyone in prison? Any guys?"

"What?" He exclaims. "Where did that come from?"

"Mm... I was watching a documentary last night," you lie. "About prison or whatever."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and about you know," you sway and look at your laptop. You're terrible at lying. "The women who like write to them or whatever."

"Ew, like the Ted Bundy weirdos?" He scoffs.

"Not exactly. I mean, none of them were murderers. I think," you shrug. "But... like, if you were in prison, you'd need that, right? I mean, it's just to get you through."

"I don't know. It'd be lonely, yeah, but like... what about after?" He scratches his neck. "I got a buddy who was in for a while but he's a good dude. He was only selling... stuff."

"Really?" You perk up, "he went to prison?"

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it," Jensen says. "Why are you talking about this?"

"Making conversation. I was just thinking about the show," you sign into your laptop. "Just thinking... I mean, how do you even end up there?"

"Bad things. I learned my lesson when I was sixteen. I broke into the high school on a dare and the cops put me in cuffs for two hours. They let me go once I cried... I mean, I was a kid so..."

You nod and try not to show any judgment. That sounds about right. A notification pops up in the corner as Jensen goes back to the fluttering over his keyboard. You click on the email.

'I've been granted call-time at noon. You can call the number below and request by my inmate number...'

You quickly minimize and hide behind your cup as you slurp. Shoot. You didn't think he'd be so fast. A call at noon? You can't say no. Not now that he got approved.

Well, this is the only time it's happening.

[reiding-writing]

Heyy!! i was wondering if you could perchance do a drabble with dad!spencer and mom!bau!reader where they've gotten into the rhythm of calling each other mommy and daddy in front of the kids and one of them accidentally slips up and does it work without realising. And then the team is like "hold on 🤨" (probably morgan) and they have to defend themselves. Just something i've been thinking about and i don't have the artistic ability to right it myself but you do! Thank youuuu! xxx

SLIP UP. /spencer reid/

your at-home naming habits find their way into the office.

bau!mom!reader 1.1k fluff masterlist.

a/n | this is so funny i love it.

The bullpen hums with its usual energy—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, conversations weaving through the space.

It’s late, and exhaustion weighs on everyone like a heavy fog. Cases have been stacking up, the paperwork never-ending, and you’re all running on caffeine and whatever sugar-laden snack Garcia has left in the breakroom.

You and Spencer, despite being used to sleepless nights—courtesy of two small children at home—are still feeling the burn.

Parenting while profiling is a delicate balance, and some days, it feels like you barely hold it together. But you've found ways to cope, to slip into a rhythm that works.

Spencer leans over his desk, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he scans a report. His hair is slightly disheveled—likely from running his hands through it—and his tie is loosened, his sleeves rolled up. He looks exactly how you feel, drained.

You, seated across from him, are going through another file when you sigh and reach for the next document. “Pass Mommy the file, please,”

The moment the words leave your mouth, the bullpen stills. For a brief second, no one reacts. Not even Spencer, who doesn’t hesitate to slide the file over to you, his tired brain not even registering what just happened.

But then—

“Hold on, what?”

Your head snaps up so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. Across the table, Morgan is staring at you with wide eyes, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. JJ’s eyebrows are raised nearly to her hairline, and even Rossi has paused his paperwork, looking mildly amused.

Hotch looks like he’s trying very hard not to react.

You glance at Spencer, who is blinking rapidly, his brain trying to catch up with what just happened.

And then, it hits you.

“Oh my God.” Your stomach drops. Heat rushes to your face. “I didn’t mean—”

Morgan leans forward, elbows on the table, his smirk growing. “Did you just refer to yourself as Mommy?”

Spencer makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “It’s— It’s not—”

“Because I swear I just heard that,” Morgan continues, clearly enjoying himself.

JJ covers her mouth, eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

You groan, dropping your face into your hands. “It’s not what you think,”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think.” Morgan chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Reid, you calling her Mommy at home?”

Spencer makes another choked noise, shaking his head furiously. “No! I mean— yes, but not like that!”

JJ snorts, and even Hotch finally cracks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether or not to intervene.

You lift your head, groaning again. “We have two kids under four. There’s a lot of third-person referencing, okay?”

Morgan raises an eyebrow, amused.

Spencer, still red-faced, starts rambling. “It’s a psychological phenomenon, actually. When individuals—particularly parents—are frequently addressed in a particular way, their brains develop an associative response, reinforcing the use of the terms even in situations outside the expected context. It’s entirely innocent. Just an unconscious linguistic habit.”

Morgan whistles low. “Damn, Pretty Boy. You really just tried to profile your way out of calling your wife ‘Mommy’ in front of us,”

Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands.

Your face feels impossibly warm. “We’re tired, Morgan. We haven’t had a full night’s sleep in—” You glance at Spencer. “How long has it been?”

“Three years, three months, and sixteen days,” he answers automatically.

Morgan lets out a low whistle. “Damn,”

Emily places a hand over her heart. “That’s actually kind of adorable,”

Garcia practically vibrates with excitement. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I need to hear more,”

“There’s nothing more to hear,” Spencer says, shaking his head quickly. “It’s just a habit. Strictly innocent,”

“Oh, we believe you,” Rossi says, the corners of his mouth twitching. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to let it go,”

“Not a chance,” Morgan agrees.

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “This is never going away, is it?”

“Nope,” JJ says cheerfully.

Spencer sighs, rubbing his temples. “Great.”

And just like that, the teasing begins.

For the rest of the day—and likely for weeks to come—you hear variations of:

“Daddy, can you pass me that report?” from Emily.

“I don’t know, Mommy, what do you think?” from Morgan.

Garcia, of course, takes it the farthest, occasionally referring to you both as “Mommy and Daddy dearest,” complete with exaggerated winks.

By the time you make it home that evening, you collapse onto the couch with a groan, Spencer falling beside you.

“I’m never going to live this down,” you mumble.

“At least they think it’s funny,” Spencer says, leaning his head back against the cushions.

You sigh. “This is your fault,”

He turns his head to look at you, eyebrows raised. “My fault?”

“You didn’t even hesitate when I said it. You just handed me the file like it was totally normal,”

His lips twitch. “To be fair, it is normal,”

You nudge him with your foot. “Not at work, it isn’t,”

He chuckles, then tilts his head, considering. “Maybe if we just… pretend it never happened, they’ll drop it,”

You snort. “You really think that’s going to work?”

“…No,”

“Exactly.” You groan again, rubbing your hands over your face. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Spencer smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “At least we’re in it together, Mommy,”

You open your eyes just to glare at him. “You better not start doing that on purpose,”

He presses his lips together, trying to suppress a grin.

“Spencer,” you warn.

His grin widens. “Yes, Mommy?”

You grab a throw pillow and smack him with it, and his laughter fills the room, warm and familiar.

Exhausted as you both are, you wouldn’t trade this—your life, your family, the teasing from your team—for anything in the world.

[ttrevelyan]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63465307

Rook broached the subject of her House one day at dinner, her own curiosity getting the better of her judgement. Teia, Viago, Lucanis and herself were gathered for their weekly dinner at the Dellamorte Estate. Rook had been living with Lucanis for almost a month. In that time, she had much to think about - but one question nagged at her. She hadn’t taken on any jobs since her initial contract on Solas, well over a year ago.

“Am I still a de Riva?” she said, using her fork to stab at her dinner. Lucanis and Viago both seemed to choke on their food, and a late warning sounded off in her mind. But it was too late to stop herself. The implications of her question had not been a consideration: she was only thinking of her work as a Crow. Was she meant to take contracts under House Dellamorte?

Lucanis pounded on his chest for a second, then stared at her. “Rook-” he coughed.

“It’s fine, actually,” she said quickly, embarrassed by their reactions. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I imagine you would be a de Riva until Lucanis marries you,” Teia said, seemingly pleased by the turn in conversation. She pushed her plate forward and leaned on the table, beaming at Lucanis. Rook vaguely remembered that they all have knives.

“Teia!” Viago snapped. Rook winced, realizing the mess she had started.

“It’s uncommon to change it before marriage,” Teia said, ignoring Viago’s angry sputtering. “But he is the First Talon. Switching Houses is not unheard of. Think of Jacobus.”

“I said nothing of marriage,” Rook muttered under her breath, regretting speaking at all. Her hand twitched at her side. A small fire at the table could end this.

“Rook is a de Riva,” Viago announced, perhaps unnecessarily, his voice rising. “Rook is a de Riva until I say otherwise, and that day-”

“So you’re saying you’d give her away at the wedding,” Teia interrupted, her grin stupidly large. The Seventh Talon leaned back in her chair. Viago choked again. “That’s very kind of you, Vi.”

Rook covered her face with her hands. “This was a bad idea,” she said, her voice muffled.

“I didn’t realize we were discussing marriage, Teia,” Lucanis said, and Rook was gratified that he sounded relatively calm. She, on the other hand, felt like her body was going to erupt into flames. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to be anywhere else.

“You are lucky Caterina hasn’t started on you about babies,” Teia said, and at that, Rook dropped her hands and stared at the other woman, betrayed.

“Teia!” Lucanis cried out. “Enough!” There goes him being calm, Rook thought absently.

Rook wondered if she had ever blushed so much in her entire life. She certainly couldn’t remember another incident where she felt so mortified - and this was an incident of her own doing. She wished, rather desperately, that she could crawl underneath the table, or that the whole room would just go dark. I could use magic to put out all the candles?

Teia held her hands up in the air, a mockery of a surrender. “A blind man could see that these two are going to get married,” she said. “It’s a matter of when, not if, she becomes a Dellamorte.”

After that, there was no way to wrestle control of the situation. Viago was standing, chest puffed, spouting at all of them about the work it took to make Rook a de Riva, let alone the headaches she had caused him. He rattled off the various incidents - almost a lifetime of them - wherein she had made his life difficult. Lucanis seemed aghast at Viago’s outburst, listening with a horrified look on his face. Teia was laughing so hard that Rook was sure she was going to pass out.

Rook stared down at her plate and did her best impression of a statue. Viago’s tirade was sure to end soon - she had, after all, done some good things in her time as a de Riva. And of course she wanted to marry Lucanis. That went without saying. But she had been very, very careful about not showing any indication of that to him. Rumours could spiral; Crows loved to talk. She has heard what they say about her - the things they insinuated, the way they spoke about her relationship with Lucanis.

Crows wished for complicated intentions: for drama. She remembered what her fellow fledglings used to say about Teia and Viago; about Teia and Dante. The Crows, though famous for their work, operated a spinning wheel of rumours and gossip throughout Antiva.

Lucanis stood, and walked behind her chair, smiling down at her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Her anxiety melted away at his touch, as it always did.

“I would like it to be clear,” Lucanis said, composed again, “that I would marry Rook tomorrow.” Rook’s cheeks flared. “But she is still a de Riva.”

“Not for long,” Viago grumbled. Rook wanted to strangle him. “Teia is trying to strong-arm you into a proposal.” Viago crossed his arms and stared at Teia. “Not very subtly.”

Teia, the woman of the hour, only shrugged. “I’m sure he’s already bought a ring. I bet you it’s in his pockets, right now.”

Right - under the table I go. Rook sunk deeper into her chair and groaned when Lucanis’ grip on her shoulder stopped her from ducking her head below the table. “Rook,” he said, still laughing. “Relax. I am not going to propose to you in front of Teia and Viago.”

“I wish I believed you,” she muttered. “I really do."

Viago and Teia stood at Teia’s insistence, her arm tugging at Viago’s until he groaned and got up from his seat. “A lovely dinner,” Teia said, “as always, Lucanis.” Viago just nodded his head. Teia pushed him forward; Rook could almost see the smoke coming from Viago’s ears. She cringed as they walked out the door - she was going to get an earful from Viago when she saw him next.

Lucanis let loose a long, large breath. The tension in her body melted as he slowly massaged her shoulders; she leaned into his touch.

“That was a lot,” Rook said, sighing.

Lucanis murmured a low agreement. “Let’s go to bed,” he urged, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Rook groaned, but stood. She followed him back to their room, stomach churning as her mind worked through the dinner. Viago had been livid; Teia had said some things she didn't know how to think about. He noticed how quiet she was, but he didn't press her.

She stayed quiet as they slowly readied themselves for bed. He kissed both of her eyelids when her face was washed; he helped braid her hair in silence. It wasn't until she was in his arms, in their bed, her leg thrown over his own, that she finally said, “I would like to marry you.”

She was rewarded with a delighted, hungry kiss. He kissed her like their first night; he kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. The weight of his love felt undeserved; it was too much for her. She said as much, letting her insecurities tumble out of her mouth.

He was outraged - not at her, but himself - that she would ever doubt her place at his side. He spent the rest of the night murmuring sweet nothings, his voice thick and heavy with veneration. He promised her the rest of his life - Rook responded that he would never be able to get rid of her, not now, not ever.

It turned quickly into frantic and desperate hands on skin - Rook straddling him, Lucanis guiding her with his hands on her hips - and ended with silent, reverent cries; a kiss on her neck; her hands tangled in his hair.

Lucanis whispered, right before she fell asleep, “I meant what I said. I would marry you tomorrow.”

Rook barely managed to reply, her eyes closed, bliss morphing rapidly into sleep. “Then let's get married tomorrow,” she murmured, and promptly fell asleep.

[flufftober]

🍀🍂 Hello and welcome to Flufftober's (first) Fluff Bingo 🍀🍂

In our poll, nearly 50% of you voted for a handful of bingo cards to fill the other half of the year with more fluff before we jump right back into the excitement that is Flufftober - and of course, we're here to deliver 😊

Find all the important info, more cards, and all the prompts in writing below the cut.

We hope you like this event and our prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

🍀 Pick your card - we offer:

🍂 one card with 5x5 prompts (as seen at the top)

🍂 two cards with 3x3 prompts:

🍂 three themed cards with 1x5 prompts:

🍂 and as a bonus, a 3x3 card with tasks instead of prompts:

🍀 How does this work?

🍂 our standard blog rules apply and you'll find answers to most questions on our FAQ post

🍂 aside from that, you can go wild: fill these cards however you like, as quick or as slow as you like, as often as you like, and use as many of them as you like. We just want you to have fun 😊

🍂 if there are prompts on the bigger cards you don't like, feel free to use the 1x5 cards as alternate prompts and switch them out

🍂 download the cards and tick them off once you've finished a square; make a post for every square or only once you have a bingo or even a blackout - it's all up to you!

🍂 as with all our events, this one will never close, you can always use these cards. If you need a timeframe/deadline because (like me) you'll never finish otherwise, consider these loose goals:

finish until July 1st when we release the new Flufftober list

finish during October, maybe by combining some of these with the Flufftober prompts

finish until the end of the year so you're ready for whatever event we plan for next spring

🍀 What about tumblr reblogs and ao3?

🍂 tumblr reblogs will still happen but not daily as you're used to during Flufftober. It will strongly depend on how many posts there happen to be at a time and how the modmin team will have time. But as long as you mention us and/or use the tag (and follow the rules, obviously), reblogs will happen

🍂 please use the tag #fluffbingo

🍂 feel free to also add the general #flufftober tag

🍂 please make sure to clearly show the fandom, either in the first few tags or noticeably in the post

🍂 contrary to how we do it during Flufftober, we will only use four tags during reblogs this time: #fluffbingo #fluffreblog #[fandom] #[your user name] - that means we will not tag any ships, characters, or which prompt you're covering

🍂 on ao3, our collection for this event is Flufftober Fluff Bingo

Prompts

We're going left to right, top to bottom!

🍂 5x5 card

Fresh Start

To-Do List

Craft Fair

Creature AU

“This was a bad idea.”

Exploring Together

Plushie

Secret Signal

“You’ll love it.”

Late Night

Hidden (...)

“It’s just so much.”

Free Space

Fake Dating

Carnival

“You’re the best!”

Royal AU

Missing the Other

Never ever, ever

Rainbow

Hanahaki

Pep Talk

“I really mean it.”

Hoodie

Movie AU

🍂 3x3 card I

“Where do I start?”

Famous AU

Traveling the World Together

Enjoying a Lazy Day

Task: Write in a tense you usually don’t write/write less than another tense

“You said you had it handled!” - “Yeah, well, I lied.”

Birthday

“Hey, wait, that’s mine.”

Direction

🍂 3x3 card II

“You’re late!”

Hospital AU

Grocery Shopping Together

Going for a Walk

Task: Write from a POV you usually don’t write/write less than another POV

“Could you not do that, please?” - “Spoilsport.”

Sunshine

“I don’t know, you decide.”

Concert

🍂 1x5 card - Smiles

Secret Smile

Relieved Smile

Honest Smile

Devious Smile

Teary Smile

🍂 1x5 card - Hugs

Soothing Hug

Hug in Celebration

Sleepy Hug

Hug from behind

Desperate Hug

🍂 1x5 card - Kisses

Kiss on the Hand

Kiss to distract

Goodbye Kiss

Forhead Kiss

Kiss on the Cheek

🍂 3x3 card - Tasks

Finish your WIP

Sort all your Ideas and/or WIPs

Edit an entire Chapter or Oneshot

Outline a Story

Work on that hard Scene that is giving you so much trouble it is holding you back

Finish the next Chapter of your WIP

Join in a Writing Event (this card doesn’t count 😉 but the others do!)

Finish a Oneshot

Dig out an old Draft and work on it

Have Fun and Go Wild 🥳

[natsredbra]

More guitarist Nat please it’s so good <333

guys I love her

She’s such a night owl

this girl will go to sleep at 5am, sometimes she wakes you and you think she’s getting up

you’re all “Why this early?” and she says she’s only now going to bed…

still, she wouldn’t dream of disrupting your own sleep by practicing so she usually does it in the afternoon

you bring her drinks and snacks and even stay with her sometimes

guitar player Nat who doesn’t want a stylist or a makeup artist

like at all

she wants to do her makeup herself for the shows

as well as pick out her own outfits

also for her hair

only trusts you to do it

guitarist Nat definitely has the bleached mullet and she’s not letting go of it until retirement

if her band wins an award and she’s giving a speech, you best believe she’s mentioning and thanking you first

not that she has that many people to thank

but you’d been there since day 1 and she loves you to pieces

sooo protective if paparazzi is giving you trouble

sometimes she’ll go as far to smash their camera and she got into a littleeee trouble for it

but doesn’t regret it at all, she’d do anything to ensure you’re comfortable

mentions you in interviews 647282 times

especially when they get asked where the lyrics come from……

and everyone is all 🙂‍↕️😩 because as i already said, their songs are dirty as hellllll

thinking about her proposing to you…

she might love glory and fame but she really wants to do this privately

still finds a way to record it, fuck living in the moment, she wants to look back on it

she’ll set the phone or a camera down on a makeshift stand

and she tries sooooo hard to be all cute and romantic that night!!

first she’ll come home early, before you get back from work

make you a nice dinner (pasta), and drinks half a bottle of wine to not be nervous

totally has it all planned out, exactly where and how she’s gonna do it, what’s she gonna say…

but once she gets down on one knee she’s at a LOSS for words

you literally have to help her say it

and she does, through tears

the ring is suuuuper pretty, 2 carat cushion cut

she definitely planned it for a long time, saved up for it too

you wait at least a month before telling the world

(however you do facetime all your friends that night while sobbing)

all of a sudden (some) of their songs get much softer and pg 13 when it comes to lyrics

(also i totally imagine guitarist!Nat x model!reader)