#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳Thank You For The Request!

[seldompathic]

I imagine the phone call was life or death

[dollishmehrayan]

# “I BETTER WATCH MY FIVE FOOT TWO MOUTH? FIRST OF ALL” ── .✦ ( batboys w a short!reader ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ⋆౨ৎ: as a girl who’s about 5’10-5’11 I might’ve fucked this up but we shall have hope and trustt && also I have about like a lot of inbox requests I need to get too so that’s that but this is in honor of my pookie @cup-of-doodles 🙂‍↕️ tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

"Fun-sized? More like FUN-UNSTOPPABLE."

Dick lives for the height difference. He’ll 100% rest his elbow on your head like you’re his personal armrest until you glare at him, and suddenly he’s apologizing with puppy eyes.

Picks you up constantly. Not always for a reason. Sometimes you’re just walking next to him and boom you’re airborne.

“Dick, what the hell put me down?!”

Jokes about getting you a “baby seat” for his car. You respond by threatening to hack the GPS and set it to only play the most annoying sound on loop.

When you try to kiss him and can’t reach, he dramatically gasps, crouches down, and says, “My bad, m’lady. How rude of me to be so tall.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

“Half my size, double the trouble.”

At first, he doesn’t comment on your height. Then one day, you can’t reach the top shelf, and he LOSES it.

“You want me to install a ladder here? Or...should I just carry you around on my shoulder?”

Loves how perfectly you fit into his side when he throws an arm around you. Calls you “pocket-sized rage” when you’re mad.

Teases you relentlessly but deadass threatens anyone who tries to make fun of you.

One time you tried to push him out of the way during an argument and he didn’t budge. You almost fell before he caught you but looked up at him, and he just went, “Gravity’s a bitch, huh?” “JASON PE-“

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

“Do you think if I put you in a hoodie, people would mistake you for a sack?”

Will absentmindedly hand you his coffee cup from the top shelf without realizing you can’t reach it.

You: “Tim, can you help?”

Tim, turning around: “Oh-oh my God, I’m so sorry.” (Immediately grabs it for you and then spends five minutes apologizing.)

You once climbed onto the counter to grab snacks and he caught you mid-typing something on his laptop. Stood there like: “Should I help or see how far you get?”

He finds it absolutely adorable when you wear his oversized hoodies. They drown you, and he’s obsessed.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

“Tt. You are…compact. Efficient for battle.”

At first, he acted like your height was irrelevant. Then he caught you glaring at a shelf that was too high, and he silently handed you the item. No comment. But his smirk? Loud.

Calls you “miniature” during arguments. You kicked him in the shin once for it.

LOVES how easy it is to pick you up and physically move you when you’re in his way. You tried to fight back the first time but realized it was easier to just vibe.

Secretly thinks you’re the cutest thing on the planet but will deny it forever. The only time he slipped was when you fell asleep curled up on his lap, and he whispered, “You’re like a kitten.”, “What?” *cue damian acting clueless like huh?👁️👄👁️*

[sweetiechenle]

hiiii! can I request a where reader sleeps over at mark but he wakes with a morning wood for the first time and there both shy and embarrassed cs they’ve never really been intimate like that. js something cute it can lead to smut if you want :))

pairing: mark x afab!reader

w.c: 1.8k

warnings: mdni 18+, established relationship, spending the night for the first time, mark is so sweet oh my god i will cry, reader is shy but bold, pet names, soft mark, he is so in love, mentions of spiderman because well yeah its mark, blowjob, oral (m receiving), vocal mark, implied smut for the future idk, thank you for requesting!! requests are always open ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

you steadily awoke, blinking your eyes open rapidly, trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the window. hot breath graced your hair, tickling your ear, making you squirm slightly in your boyfriends hold. last night, mark convinced you to stay the night, going as far as to admit that the second spiderman movie was superior to the third one (tom hollands spiderman, of course). you never stayed the night at his apartment, the opportunity never arising but the clouds had been crying all day, rain pelting anything in sight. mark refused to let you go home in these conditions, so when you asked him for a ride home instead of walking to the subway station, he suggested you just stay the night.

after bickering back and forth of 'i don't want to intrude' and 'i want you to's', you agreed after mark got onto his knees stating 'what if i said that far from home is the best spiderman movie?' he was giving you a pout with pleading eyes that shone under the light. they were wide and sparkling, it was almost comical but cute and convincing.

'even better than no way home?' you quirked your brow in amusement at the situation unfolding before you. mark was so dramatic and undeniably funny, one of the many reasons why you love him.

he dropped his head in defeat, sighing, 'yes... even better than no way home' voicing his downfall.

after dinner, you both watched a movie tangled together on the couch, eyes growing heavy from the antics of the day. mark turned the tv off and suggested you both head to bed, you promptly asked for a pillow and blanket, staying seated on the couch as he stood up. tilting his head to the side he laughed, 'what?'

your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment, did you say something wrong? 'i thought we were going to bed... i didn't bring a pillow and blanket with me...' staring down at your hands in your lap, you picked at your hangnails.

'baby, you are not sleeping on the couch' mark chuckled, insane that you even insinuated the idea of it. he lightly grabbed your hand, guiding you to stand up with him, 'if you don't feel comfortable sharing a bed, i will sleep on the couch, there's no way you are' he stated, still holding onto your hand.

you nodded, 'i didn't know, we can share a bed' you'd been in his bedroom countless times, he would be working on his laptop while you'd laid on his bed scrolling through your phone, or he would play you a song on his guitar sitting on his bed, back against the headboard as you listened while in his desk chair. so, this should be no different.

he offered you some old clothes, pajama pants that fit you around the waist ever so slightly, but the hems going over your feet. a shirt that was five years old and dared to expose your shoulder from how big it was. it was perfect. cozy, soft, and smelled like mark.

he brought you to his bathroom, he insisted on washing your face and applied way too much moisturizer to your skin, which prompted him to take some off your face and put it on his. it seemed like he had everything you needed, an extra toothbrush, phone charger, and slippers.

once you were finished, he brought you to his bed and opened the sheets for you, gesturing for you to climb in first, getting the spot next to the wall while he took the one closest to the door. he clicked the lamp off, and mark shimmied closer to you, slowly wrapping his arms around you asking 'is this okay?'

you glanced up at him, features more defined under the moon shining through the curtains, 'yes, of course' he smiled, nuzzling his nose into your hair, taking in the scent with a deep breath.

'good night baby,' he kissed your head, 'i love you' you melted once the words hit your ears, it wasn't said often but special every time it was fabricated into the real world.

'i love you too' you whispered, moving closer to him as much as you could, closing your eyes as marks scent filled your senses, his warm body radiating the perfect amount of heat to yours, soft sheets that hugged you almost as well as he was. it was hard not to quickly drift off to dreamland.

which brought you to the morning after, mark still having an iron grip tight hold on you and lightly snoring in your ears as you tried to count his breathing. that was until something else caught your attention, mark brought you in closer, shoving his nose into your neck, pulling your body flush with his. you could feel something hard on the back of your thigh and if your suspicions were right then this could get interesting. you and mark had not been that sexually involved... yet. stating he had wanted to take his time with you, that he would be ready whenever you were. never going further than making out and scandalous touches over each others bodies. you didn't mind and it seemed like he didn't either as he never pressured you into doing anything more, but you had been ready for a while, the conversation just never coming up. it seemed like sex wasn't that important to either of you.

you stirred as his nose tickled your neck, causing him to wake up, long eyelashes batting as he tried to fight the sleepiness away. 'mornin' baby' he yawned, voice low and groggy. you smiled up at him, stealing glances at his face under the warm glow of the sun peeking in through the curtains.

'mmm' you giggled, 'don't yawn, you're gonna make me yawn' of course watching him do just that triggered a yawn out of you which made him laugh, grabbing you tighter and shaking you in rhythm with the sound. and now being so close made you feel his morning wood again, which made you freeze in his hold

he noticed the way you seemed to tighten your muscles and go stiff, 'what's wrong baby?'

you blushed, should it be brought up? did you want to embarrass your boyfriend like that? it was kind of hard to ignore it... 'oh, um, it seems like you have a problem' you slurred out the last words, hoping he would pick up whatever you were putting down.

dropping the ball completely your words were lost on him, 'oh?' you shifted your leg, making his move in response, eyes wide in shock 'oh' he finally picked it up.

his ears were already hot in embarrassment, your chest caved in its secondhandness, and you now feel bad that you brought it up. 'i-im so so-' he started, moving away from you, face now wearing a pink hue.

you grabbed his wrist, bringing him back closer to you, 'i-i could help you...' whispering, 'if you want' heart beating so fast from the suggestion, half excited, half anxious.

'oh, you really don't have to' his smile faltered, 'i can take care of it in the bathroom or something.'

your occasional innocent facade cracking, 'i want to, please' giving him the best pouty face you could muster.

he sighed and moved towards his pillow, back now slouched against the headboard, his eyes darkening with lust, 'only if you want to babe, i can't refuse you'

you smiled at the green light, climbing on top of him, grasping both shoulders in your hands, you leaned in. he tilted his head to the side, allowing easy access for your lips. he still tasted like the toothpaste you had used last night, exploring his mouth with such delicacy, taking your time with him. lightly grinding your hips down onto his groin made him moan into your mouth. a string of curse words leaving his lips in a raspy tone, still trying to overcome sleep.

making sure to kiss the moles that adorned his face, you then moved onto his neck, sucking light bruises into the sensitive skin. mark let out wanton moans, always vocal in the best ways, a sound you could listen to for the rest of your life.

you continued to move backwards until your reached his crotch. the bugle defined in his pajama pants making your mouth water, you always imagined what it would look like, your boyfriend was too handsome and sexy for you not to sometimes picture moments like this before bed or in the shower.

you reached for the waistband of his pants and underwear, pulling them both down together, sitting them near his thigh. his cock sprung free from its confines, lightly slapping against his toned stomach. 'so pretty' you said more to yourself than to him. you grabbed it and pumped his member up and down, mark sucked in a breath, eyes shut due to the bliss.

you brought your head down, mouth closer to the red, bulbous tip. you gently licked a strip up the shaft, testing the waters before diving in head first. literally.

mark groaned again, bringing his hand to your head, tangling his fingers into your hair, grasping lightly. you went ahead and took him into your mouth, easing his member in inch by inch. he didn't push you but guided you through it. 'fuck baby, that feels s-so good' he gasps, chest moving up and down rapidly.

once your nose touched his pubic bone you started moving, bobbing your head up and down sensually before your movements grew faster. mark jerked his hips into your mouth, making you choke a bit, 'i-i fuck i'm sorry' he blabbered, gripping your hair tighter. you moaned around him, making his body vibrate in response.

the wet sounds and marks panting filled up the room, breaking through the silence of the morning. it was absolute debauchery. you could tell he was close, fingers holding your hair like a vice, the other hand grasping the sheets, eyes staring at you through thick eyelashes as he watched you suck his dick.

you sucked in harder, cheeks caving in as drool pools into your mouth and around marks thick cock. 'o-oh my god, baby, just like that' the praise making you go faster, wanting him to reach his high soon due to the ache in your jaw and between your thighs.

you brought your hand up to grasp whatever you didn't put into your mouth, moving hit in tandem with your mouth, mark cried above you, whimpering that he was coming to come soon. you moaned again not stopping, the quiver leaving him to groan vehemently.

hot liquid filled your mouth as you tried to swallow all of his come. some of it dribbling off of your chin and onto marks thighs, he panted above you, as you pulled off of him and wiped your mouth. moving back down to pepper kisses over his thighs, lightly sucking to make your mark on him.

lust overtaking him completely, forcing you up back to meet his eyes, 'my turn' he growled out.

[havenhyunjin]

make up artist — hyunjin

You were doing your best to keep things professional, for the sake of your employment status but mostly because Hyunjin made you beyond nervous. He was a menace, licking his lips as he stared at you, gracing his fingertips against yours on so-called accidents, complimenting you and then your work in that order every time, all while being drop dead gorgeous. word count: 2.6k

warnings: mature, explicit sexual content ahead. 18+ only please! makeup artist afab reader, consensual but forbidden workplace relationship; unprotected consensual sex (be responsible); fingering, dirty talk, creampie.

a/n: this is the consequence of 17 minutes of watching hyunjin get his makeup done. sorry not sorry lol <3

————————————————————————

Painting on a beautiful face was a different form of art than those typically recognized. Everyone could commend an artist for a mural, a sculpture, a song, a dance, but not many would commend a makeup artist in the same way. Today, while you wouldn’t deny every craft had its degree of difficulty, you demanded recognition for the challenges of your own work.

You’d like to see every artist do their job correctly while staring into the eyes of the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen in your life. At this point, you should be used to doing Hyunjin’s makeup, but it has only progressively gotten worse.

At first you believed that he really was just attentive and present when someone did his makeup, engaging in conversations and piercing his eyes into them. It started being apparent that it wasn’t the case when you were doing someone else’s makeup when he was in the room and he still wouldn’t stop staring at you. And it was plain obvious when he specifically requested you to be his makeup artist on Stray Kids’ world tour.

You were doing your best to keep things professional, for the sake of your employment status but mostly because Hyunjin made you beyond nervous. He was a menace, licking his lips as he stared at you, gracing his fingertips against yours on so-called accidents, complimenting you and then your work in that order every time, all while being drop dead gorgeous.

You were addicted to the game only he was playing, because you didn’t think you could reciprocate without turning incoherent or embarrassing yourself. But Hyunjin knew what kind of effect he had on you, and he was entertained by it.

The game was just beginning, as he opened his hotel room for you with the entire makeup kit.

“Hi, my favorite artist,” Hyunjin smirked and immediately went to grab your bags from your hands. You just blushed and walked inside thanking him between your breath, and leading towards the standard hotel desk and chair for you to get to work on him.

Doing his makeup in his hotel room had never happened before, but an individual morning schedule brought you here at 7am. You knew it was a bad idea, and your heart was beating out of your chest already, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t exciting at the same time.

You diligently set your makeup station as Hyunjin sat down and began making small talk that you half heartedly were replying to.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, with a wicked smile that told you he knew exactly what was wrong.

You chuckled it off, and simply began applying moisturizer to his face, nearly wincing at how electrifying touching his skin was every time.

He had his game face on immediately, staring daggers into your eyes. Slowly but surely, as you started pressing his foundation into his face, he started staring at other parts of you.

It was your lips first, and you couldn’t help but bite on them, even if it made things worse. At some point, Hyunjin’s small talk subsided and he started examining your hair. You didn’t really have time to do it in the morning, loose wavy hair falling over your shoulders, and he tugged on a little strand and curled his fingers around it. He constantly brushed his fingers over your collarbone, just torturing you with his games.

Concealer and eyeshadow went on him on pure muscle memory, attempting to ignore the way his eyes were now staring at your entire body frame up and down. The stakes of the game got higher as Hyunjin slowly moved his hands to your waist, which you made no effort to avoid or take off of you.

The tension was palpable, the air thick with your heavy breathing as both of his hands rested ever so slightly under your shirt right at your hips.

“You are so pretty, have I ever told you that?” he said, the fakest innocent doe eyes you’d ever seen looking up at you as you added blush on his cheekbones.

“You call me pretty girl all the time,” you laughed softly, almost rolling your eyes.

“Because you are,” he motioned you closed with his hands, your face nearing his even more, making your job grabbing setting powder harder.

“Hyune, let me finish,” you whispered, stammering over your words and stretching to reach for the powder puff, but he grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he traced circles on your waist touching the skin directly and stood up from the chair, towering over you.

You should want him to stop, you should get away immediately, and you should not want him as badly as you do. But fighting the way your body was yearning for him for months now was proving more, and more impossible.

You didn’t reply, but you set your hands on his arms tentatively, unsure of everything but the fact that you wanted him close.

He smiled down at you and tucked your hair behind your with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “So pretty,” he whispered, as he graced your cheek with his knuckles, making you blush furiously.

“Let me kiss you, pretty girl,” he pleaded with his thumb ghosting over your lip. You were mute, not out of hesitation but disbelief that this was actually happening, but you leaned into him slowly.

Hyunjin understood your consent and closed the space between you two, enveloping you into a mix of a sweet and lustful kiss. As he let your hand go, both of his hands set on your waist once again, gripping it tighter and pressing his body against yours, molding himself into you and your lips.

Your own hands flew to the nape of his neck and just allowed him to take the lead for you, finally letting go and giving in to your true desires.

He felt how you relaxed in his arms, and smiled into the kiss. “So sweet, pretty girl,” he hummed into your mouth, making you smile back at him.

The kiss got deeper, rougher, and you were drunk off the way Hyunjin was guiding you into it all. As he walked you two to the bed in the middle of the room, and sat you down on his lap to straddle him on the edge of the bed, you were the one to start the kiss once again.

“Do you want this, pretty?” he pulled away to ask, pressing his forehead against you. As you hummed in response and tried to kiss him again, he stopped you. “I need words,” Hyunjin insisted, and you reflexively said yes out loud. He was amused at your excitement, and his own, really. You were surprised at how pliant and willing you were to something so forbidden, but bending the rules proved to be exhilarating.

Although he wanted to take his sweet time with you, he was painfully aware of time constraints before he had a photoshoot to attend. He knew he could have more time later, and he laid you down next to him, looking at you for approval to pull the zipper of your jeans down. “Please,” you mumbled back, crazy with the stimulation on your neck through his love bites.

His hand made his way over your cunt over your already soaked panties, tracing a line over your slit as he kissed you deeply. You were moaning nearly uncontrollably, having a semblance of shame at how desperate you were for Hyunjin before anything truly happened.

He pulled your panties aside and rubbed his middle finger over your leaking hole, up to your clit. It had you squirming and whining, but not once did he stop kissing your mouth like a man starved.

As a first finger slid inside of you, you gasped and gripped Hyunjin’s shirt, and he was loving every second of your reaction to his moves.

“Even your little sounds are pretty,” he said as he began tracing kisses into your neck once again.

Soon enough, a second finger was inside of you, scissoring them into you and increasing the pace.

“You’re taking it so nicely,” he continued to praise and all you could do still was whimper his name like music to his ears. It was then that you decided to move your hands down to his crotch. When you touched him over his own sweatpants, you realized how hard he was and you were relishing on it.

Hyunjin groaned as you touched him, and grinded himself in your hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace.

“Fuck, Hyune,” you cried into his neck, trying to still pleasure him with your hand as your own pleasure got a little bit too much.

At that, he positioned himself over you, spreading your legs to fit between them as he pulled his sweatpants down enough to free his leaking red cock. Hyunjin wanted you so badly it hurt, and he needed you right then and there. He’d wanted this ever since he laid his eyes on you, and as you were under him in his bed half naked and willing to take him, he knew he needed to make it worth your while.

“You still want this, pretty girl?”

“I want you so, so bad, Hyune,” you whined in an intoxicatingly sweet voice to him, holding his face in your hands as he began to press his cock over your cunt.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Hyunjin grinned as he kissed you over and over again.

“Baby please,” you pleaded against his lips and it made him completely give in to you. He would give you anything at this point, beginning with pushing into you slowly.

As you adjusted to him, sighing in relief, he started to moan your name making you feel heaven.

Every single feeling was heightened, from the toe curling sting of him inside of you, to how dirty it was to fuck someone you were strictly forbidden from even looking at. It only worked to excite you, not deter you in any way. How could you not feel wanted and desired, if Hyunjin was willing to risk so much just for a single night with you?

Hyunjin had his eyes closed, overwhelmed at the tight, warm feeling around him, but also drunk off the feeling of finally getting the girl. He never thought it would happen this way, but finally taking you after months of picturing it every night as he pleasured himself was every bit as wonderful as he thought it would be and then some more.

He bottomed inside of you, groaning in your ear with his forearms holding his weight over you.

You moved to take his shirt off, every part of you burning with more desire for more skin. As he helped tug his shirt off, he pulled yours down, enough to have your breasts out for him to touch.

You couldn’t believe how vocal you were being, considering this wasn’t supposed to happen and should be secretive, but every single thing that Hyunjin did with your body brought out a primal reaction from you.

He thrusted into you fast and hard, satisfying the desperate need both of you felt to be close. It was raw and rough, but you both clearly liked it just that way. He fucked you like he never would touch you again, timing his hard thrusts consistently as he watched your tits bounce below him.

“You’re doing such a good job, pretty. So tight,” he moaned, hushing your desperate, incoherent moans. “You can do it, baby, you can take it,” he demanded as he gripped your waist to fuck you impossibly harder with your legs spread wide open for him; a perfect display of how willing you were for anything he wanted to do to your body.

“Do you feel how deep my cock is inside you, pretty?” he teased, a wicked grin in his face watching your reaction to every single brutal thrust, feeling himself close and closer to release just by staring at your face contorted in pleasure.

You only nodded, gripping the sheets below you and even harder as Hyunjin moved one hand to stimulate your clit with his thumb at a painstakingly slow pace contrasting his fucking.

“You look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, baby,” he kept sweet talking you, never relenting in his hip and hand moves. At that point, you felt your orgasm closing in on you, crying out at the stimulation of just the right spot.

Hyunjin noticed, and his fingers on your clit only worked faster to make you cum first. His dirty talk along with his face would’ve been enough anyway.

“Give it to me, baby. Cum all over my cock, milk it with that tight, pretty pussy,” he leaned down to catch your mouth on a wet, sloppy kiss, still not once relenting on the intensity of his fucking.

Soon enough, you were seeing stars behind your eyes, wrapping your legs around Hyunjin’s waist and scratching his back in the process. The orgasm was the most intense you’d ever had, and it didn’t subside as he fucked you harder through it to reach his own.

With your eyes rolled back, mouth wide open, tits out for him, hair disheveled and your pussy spasming around him, Hyunjin reached pure ecstasy. He painted ropes inside you, and while panting in between messy kisses all over your face, you suddenly became aware of the time.

Gasping, and trying to pull away, Hyunjin shushed you immediately.

“It’s fine, pretty girl. You only have to do my lipstick now,” he smiled down at you, trying to set your hair straight, and relishing in the feeling of being inside you a couple seconds longer.

“Hyune, you have to go,” you gushed, fixing your bra and shirt back on, the adrenaline of the forbidden rising back up.

Hyunjin pouted, but agreed as he pulled out and fixed his sweatpants. You scrambled up, but he didn’t let you until he found your undergarments and worked gently to put them on you again, and you found it sweet until you noticed his evil plan.

He pumped his cum back inside your cunt with his fingers, making you shriek at the overstimulation, before he slid your panties up. Pressing one mischievous kiss to your thigh, he also pushed your jeans on and promised himself he’d be back to taste you and undo you under him once again.

The realization was hitting harder and harder for you, blushing furiously as you ran to your makeup kit to try to fix whatever mess you made yourself on Hyunjin’s face.

Grabbing the setting powder and working on record time, Hyunjin kept praising you and making your job the worst it’s ever been. It didn’t help that you knew what he looked like fucking you now.

“You’re even prettier all fucked out, baby,” he kept teasing, feeling you up and biting his lips, because truly who could gave enough of you?

“Hyune, please focus,” you pleaded mortified, grabbing the lip tint and gloss from your stand and clumsily dropping one of them in the process.

He beat you to picking it up, and handed it to you gently, smiling.

“I really liked it, pretty girl. Did you like it?” he let you go to let you apply the rose lip stain on his lips diligently, albeit almost shaking.

“You know I did…” you reassured him, as if your moaning or red face wasn’t enough proof.

“Let’s do it again, pretty?” he asked, stealing a kiss from you before you began to apply gloss.

Flustered and feeling hot once again, you just cursed him between your teeth but smiled, which told him everything he needed to know.

You definitely needed a raise, and you demanded recognition for your hard work as an artist. No one else would’ve pulled it off like you did, and Hyunjin wanted no one else either way.

[tojislovergirl]

Omg in love with your Smau’s!

Can I request one where reader wants to be intimate with the jjk men but is sacred she won’t be good enough to please them but they reassure her and tell her there is nothing to worry about and they could never not feel good with them!😭😭

ready or not? ft. jjk

cw: inexperienced reader, some suggestiveness MDNI, not proofread

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy <3 requests are open :P

[moonstruckme]

Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her

You may! Thank you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 876 words

“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 

“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 

“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 

Now you have Peter’s interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you. 

“Something you think I should know?” 

“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 

“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 

“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 

“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 

“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 

Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 

“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 

You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 

“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 

“I won’t.” 

You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours. 

You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source. 

“Peter.” Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. “What are you doing?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 

“What?” 

He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window. 

“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 

“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 

You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away. 

“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 

“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 

Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 

Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 

“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 

You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 

“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 

You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 

Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering. 

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  

Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 

“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 

His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 

[rainyfey]

Hi again, sorry for my request, but could you make some adorable drawings of Momo and Okarun? Sorry and thank you very much, have a good day or night...I hope everything goes well for you :3

"Laser Focus"

Thank you very much, Hel-wey! Always happy to see you in my inbox!! Your wish is my command. Hope this is cute enough 💖 I had a lot of fun drawing it (and experimenting with Gradient Maps in CSP for the colors) ✨

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: this is a kofi request, about a naga that gives you a massage to help with your chronic pain… and that leads to spicy things~

You let out a sigh as you rubbed your sore body, unsatisfied with your doctor’s current diagnosis… or well, lack of one.

It had been a long time since you last brought up your chronic pain, no one ever listened to you before so why keep asking for help when nothing seemed to change? You had found ways to… somewhat manage, so was it really all that bad?

Well, that’s what you thought before yet another doctor dismissed your pain and sent you home with a smile and tip to take ibuprofen before bed.

“Ibuprofen? Does she seriously think I haven’t tried that already?” you murmured to yourself, wincing as you laid on your side. “All that money for an appointment, just to come home empty handed.”

You didn’t react when your phone buzzed on your nightstand, it was late and you didn’t feel like answering anyone’s messages after the day you had.

In the morning when you had some caffeine and could think clearly, you read the message you had been sent the night before.

“Hey, I know you’ve been having some pretty bad flare ups lately. I went to this masseuse and I’ve never felt better! Here’s the address, he said he’s free tomorrow, you should go after work!”

You let out an annoyed huff. Although you loved your friend, you disliked when people recommended random treatments to you.

As if you haven’t visited a masseuse before! Every chiropractor in the area knew your name!

“Well… guess it can’t hurt. I’ve got nothing to do tonight anyways.”

After another work day full of pain and a double dose of anxiety, you put the address into your phone. Luckily, it was close enough to your house that you could justify going home to change out of your work clothes first.

“First impressions are important after all…” you muttered to yourself, brushing off your skirt.

The address led you to a small cottage. It looked more cozy than professional, which you didn’t mind. After all, you wanted to be comfortable and had been through this song and dance so many times you didn’t care anymore.

“Hello!”

You jumped, turning to see a naga slithering up the driveway. It wasn’t often a human like you encountered a magical being, the last time you came face to face with one was in kindergarten when one of your classmates was a troll.

“O-oh, hello. Are you..?”

He smiled, flashing his fangs. “The masseuse? Yes! You must be (Name), your friend said you’d be here early.”

While you walked in, you didn’t notice the way his eyes wandered downwards, taking note of how nice you looked in that skirt.

You did the usual, undressing and laying down on the premade cot before calling him back into the room. For some reason, even though you had been through this multiple times, you almost felt… shy.

“Alright, where are you feeling the most pain?”

You pointed out your sore spots, wincing as his hands went to work. After a few minutes, he frowned and pulled back a bit. “And this isn’t helping, is it?”

“No… it seems nothing really seems to work. Thanks for-“

He stopped you from getting up, helping you relax back into the cot before his hands moved down your body. “I see your friend didn’t mention what I specialize in.”

You saw his fangs again, the way the light glinted off of them making you wince.

“You see, my venom can act as a muscle relaxer. It’s more potent and effective than anything you’ve ever tried, I bet.”

Before you would have hesitated, but you were so tired of the pain and were willing to try anything. “That… sounds nice.”

The naga hovered over you, sniffing your neck before giving it a lick. He was quite handsome, and it had been so long since a man had been this close with you. It felt intimate…

His neck sunk into your neck, and he stayed on top of you as the venom kicked in. He worked his hands into your muscles, humming softly as you let out satisfied moans and sighs.

“Mmm…”

His hands wandered, stopping right at your hips. You were plump, the towel barely covering your fat ass and pretty pussy. Although he tried his best to stay professional, he could feel his cocks beginning to peek through his slit.

“Feeling good?” he asked. You noticed his voice had a slight huskiness to it, and you decided to take your chance.

“Yeah… what about you?”

You couldn’t move much, but the slight shift of your hips into his was enough to have him hissing through his teeth. His cocks settled on your ass as he continued to massage you.

“Mmm… me too. In fact, I can make sure we feel even better… together.”

By the time you got home, your pain and sexual tension was fully relieved, and you already had your next appointment scheduled.

The naga was almost more excited for it than you were.

Want more of this character? Leave a comment!

—————

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[peanutpinet]

Can u create a sylus x reader where she is doing errands while sylus is in a meeting, and she finds sexy undergarments and thinks about buying them. Without her knowing, mephesto is watching her and sylus is distracted?

Also I re downloaded this app just bec of your posts!!! Love it

Confidently Shy (Sylus x Fem Reader)

Request: Can u create a sylus x reader where she is doing errands while sylus is in a meeting, and she finds sexy undergarments and thinks about buying them. Without her knowing, mephesto is watching her and sylus is distracted?

A/N: hi reader, thank you for your request. I think this will actually be the first-ever actual suggestive content that I’ve written. I apologise in advanced for not writing smut as I’m still uncomfortable writing but maybe one day

Warnings: illegal business, slight stalking (Sylus using mephisto and checking the bills that went through his card), makeout, suggestive content

Disclaimer: This work is completely fiction. I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

It was a quiet evening as Sylus was in the midst of his meeting, a meeting that bored him to the point he was getting sick of the facade that his business partner was making and decided to go over his tabs on his investments, his other business streams, and even bills that were charged under his card; specifically the ones that were made by you.

As the meeting continued on, Sylus sipped on his wine, scrolling through the tabs of what you were purchasing with his cards. Some groceries that cost only 100 dollars, several books that cost about 30 dollars and about 50 dollars for a set of undergarments?

“Well, this is something different” Sylus chuckled as he saw the amount that recently was charged to his card and what it was

Sylus decided to go a little further and looked at his other tab, which was linked to Mephisto. He knew that it was wrong to stalk you especially ever since you two were together, Sylus had ever paid attention to the recordings Mephisto had of you but he still had Mephisto keep an eye on you just in case.

As Sylus was playing the recording, he saw you walk into the undergarment store, eyeing on a few pieces until your gaze seemingly lingered on a black lace pair. It wasn’t a black show through kind of lace but it still covered what he felt you didn’t have to cover. It was a black full-cup bralette with a matching pair of bikini-style underwear.

Just imagining you in the undergarments made his breath hitched and felt a strain in his pants. It doesn’t help that his business partner keeps on rambling things that he knew were all fake and he already had Luke and Kieran prepared with the necessary proofs.

But he didn’t have to stay longer because he heard the little ring when someone enters the penthouse and he knew that it was you. The only other person to have access to the apartment were Luke and Kieran; meaning that it was you that just came into the door.

Without thinking, Sylus stood up and held his gun towards his business partner who was immediately confused but held their arms up nevertheless. “Mr, Mr Sylus, is so-something wrong?” his business partner stuttered

“I’m going to give you some time to get out of my personal space before I tip the press regarding your corruption issue and how you’ve been leading on to your clients on high-graded protocores when you so clearly don’t have any real protocores”

Without saying anything, his business partner knows that they shouldn’t cross the lines. That the tone Sylus was using was already a warning of ‘get out or I’ll show you another way out’.

His business partner scrambles out of the other door that he brought him in rather than the regular door that is connected to the rest of his penthouse because that is reserved specifically for you (ehem, Luke, Kieran, and Mephisto).

Sylus texted Luke and Kieran to handle his business partner and try to not return until later in the night which they got the hint and left the penthouse for you and him alone.

Sylus put his phone away and went out of his office to see you were cooking, the groceries you bought were already put away, and some of the chores were being done like laundry. But he was most curious of the undergarments that you bought.

Sneaking up slowly, Sylus wrapped his large arms around your waist while he lightly kissed your near down to your neck; making you giggle at Sylus’ sudden clingy attitude.

“Someone’s getting clingy” you giggled, making Sylus smile by your shoulder where he rested his chin. “Well, you left too early in the morning sweetie. I was still asleep yet my personal bed warmer was gone. Quite unfair when I always cuddle you to sleep, sweetie”

Hearing Sylus’ clingy self, you chuckled and turned off the stove before turning around. “I take it that your meeting didn’t go as planned?” you lightly cup his cheek, your thumb gently caressing the undereye circles underneath while he hummed against your hand and kissed it

“You can say that” Sylus grumbled, inhaling your scent that he has grown accustomed to

“Alright then, good thing I made one of your favourites. Creamy potato soup with steak and…” you didn’t even get to finish listing of the wine you bought for Sylus when he suddenly pressed his lips onto your, connecting you both.

Sylus was being particularly eager but he made sure to put one of his hand behind your head as he directed you away from the stove and onto the kitchen counter. Sylus gently lifted you onto the counter but never once did his lips part from you. In fact, Sylus tried to deepen the kiss even further which made you gasped; allowing Sylus’ tongue slip pass through and explore your tongue while his hand snaked underneath your shirt and lightly rubbed your exposed skin while your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist which made Sylus pull you even closer, his hand now snaked up to where your bra was; his fingers lightly toying with your bra.

You on the other hand was feeling a bit overwhelmed with Sylus’ sudden physical behaviour because normally he was able to control himself unless it was in the safe space of your share bedroom. Luckily enough, when you tapped Sylus’ shoulder to catch your breath, Sylus reluctantly pulled away and wiped your now smudged lipstick while you were trying to catch your breath, steadying your hands on his shoulders.

“Forgive me, sweetie. I went too far, didn’t I?” Sylus apologised, this time gently kissing your forehead, his lips lingering longer until your breathing was finally stable

“It’s just…” you started talking and Sylus put a distance between you two, ensuring your comfort first, trying his best to not give in to temptation

“Go on sweetie. Tell me if I was wrong” Sylus stated but you shook your head, lightly tugging on his hand so we would come back closer which he did and you hugged him, laying your head on his chest

“It’s just, it’s not like you to suddenly kiss me. Is something wrong that made you quite eager? Did you have a nightmare or something?” you asked, worried about his well-being

But instead, Sylus shook his head, chuckling at your worried tone. He gently cup your cheek and kissed the top of your head. “Nothing sweetie. Can’t I be clingy to the love of my life?”

Hearing Sylus say that made you blush which made Sylus chuckle even more, leaning into your ear and whispered, “Well I supposed it’s because a certain mechanical bird told me that you were shopping today and I was hoping to see what you bought in the last store you went to considering it’s not the regular amount you would spend on things you wear”

Immediately you know which store he was talking about and what you bought. Was he checking his tabs? Or was Mephisto snitching on you? Either way, you couldn’t help but blush and shyly buried your face in his chest.

“I’m teasing sweetie. If you don’t want to show me it’s completely fine. I respect your wishes. A man can only envision what the love of his life wears but I am a man who respects your comfort above all so I’m alright sweetie. Don’t worry about me” Sylus hugged your body against his, his touch were gentle

“I was just a bit distracted when I saw the store you went to and the piece you bought. That’s all. I promise” Sylus admitted, hoping you don’t find him creepy or weird

“I know you were just keeping tabs for your accountant and I know Mephisto spies on me to ensure my safety. I appreciate you taking care of me Sy” you replied, feeling grateful that even though you were sometimes nervous going out alone when who knows what trouble might be lurking around, you knew that Sylus would always ensure your safety no matter how busy he was

“I umm actually…I bought it for our trip. When we’re going to spend time together in the late-night breeze by the beach” you admitted, shyly looking away again

Certainly, this information caught Sylus off guard. Had you wanted to surprise him later on during the trip which he almost forgot he planned? But Sylus quickly regained his composure and gave you a soft smile, gently holding your cheeks to face him.

“Aren’t you the most adorable and thoughtful person I’ve ever come across in my life? Tell me kitten, were you planning on surprising me with this new piece?” Sylus teasingly asked while you playfully smacked his chest, making him laugh

“I’m kidding. I promise I’ll wait whenever you’re ready to show it to me” Sylus softly reassured you

As you lifted your head off his chest, you shyly looked away for a moment before replying him. “Well, if you’re that eager, I supposed you can have a look…”

Hearing your response, Sylus’ ears perked up but he calmed himself first and shook his head. “It’s okay sweetie. You bought it for a surprise then I’ll wait for the surprise. I’m not going to let you ruin my surprise until we’re at the resort for our trip”

“Then, I can show you something else that I have that’s similar…” you looked away as you were replying to him, making Sylus chuckle again

“Only if you want to, sweetie. But first, we should eat the food you prepare before it gets cold then if you really want to show me, I wouldn’t mind seeing it and having my dessert” Sylus teased, helping you down from the kitchen counter while you smack him again making him laugh but both of you knew that Sylus is a man of his word.

No matter how much teasing and anticipation he has, he would always prioritise your comfort and consent first. Period.

A/N: I tried to make it a bit spicy but of course, fluffy at the same time. I'll say this once, Sylus is a man of consent and every woman deserves a man like him. period 💅

[satellite-evans]

all I need

Pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: Lando gets furiuos when you get fined for swearing after your crash.

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: fluff, swearing, injuries, angry lando

Request : Hi could I please request a lando x reader fic where the reader is a driver and she gets in a big crash and the team radio is like asking if she is okay and shes like answers after a bit and is in pain because she just CRASHED and then she accidentally swears on radio and she gets fined and the media is going crazy and like lando is just being a good protective boyfriend and is defending her in interviews and stuff? Thanks!! xoxo - anon 🍟

A/N:

Hi love, thank you so much for sending in a request and trusting me enough to write your idea!! I hope I did it justice xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

One moment, everything is fine—you’re fighting for position, pushing the car to its absolute limit, heart pounding with adrenaline as you navigate the treacherous corners. The next, it all goes horribly wrong.

The rear tires lose grip. A sharp twitch, then a full spin. Time slows, but your mind races. Your hands react on instinct, desperately trying to correct, but it’s too late. The world outside the cockpit blurs in a sickening whirl of colors—track, barriers, sky. Then nothing but gut-wrenching weightlessness as the car lifts off the ground.

The impact is catastrophic. Metal shrieks against metal, carbon fiber shatters like glass. The force slams through your body, rattling bones, squeezing air from your lungs. Pain flares—sharp, immediate—radiating from your ribs, your shoulders, your skull as the cockpit jolts to a brutal stop. Static crackles in your helmet.

For a moment, everything is eerily still. Your pulse roars in your ears, drowning out the stunned gasps from the crowd, the commentary scrambling to make sense of what just happened. Your breath is ragged, shallow. The world tilts nauseatingly around you.

Then, the radio buzzes to life.

"Y/N, Y/N, are you okay?!" David's voice is urgent, bordering on frantic. There’s a tightness to it you’ve never heard before, and that alone terrifies you more than the crash itself.

You try to respond, but pain flares when you shift. A groan escapes before you can stop it. Your fingers fumble for the radio button, and when you finally manage to press it, your voice comes out weak, breathless.

"Fuck—yeah, I think so." A cough, a wince. "That hurt."

Across the track, in his car, Lando watches it all unfold in real-time. His stomach drops, breath catching as he sees your car crumple against the barriers. His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, heart hammering painfully against his ribs. The images flash across the big screens, slow-motion replays dissecting the crash from every angle. He can’t tear his eyes away.

Is she okay? Is she responding?!" His voice is laced with panic, the desperation evident.

His race engineer hesitates. "We're waiting on confirmation, Lando. Focus on the race."

But how the hell is he supposed to do that? The car, the track, the championship—all of it fades. Right now, none of it matters except you.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. "Please—can you keep me updated? I need to know if she's okay." His voice wavers just slightly, the emotion threatening to spill over.

A pause. Then, softer, "We will, Lando. Just focus for now."

He exhales sharply, forcing himself to keep driving, but his eyes keep flicking to the screens around the circuit, searching for any sign of movement from you. His heart pounds as he waits—praying to hear your voice again.

A beat of silence stretches after your message. Then, Race Control’s voice cuts through.

"Y/N, reminder that all radio transmissions are broadcasted live. Watch the language."

Despite everything, a strained, breathy laugh escapes you. "Yeah, yeah, noted. Ow."

The medical car is already pulling up, orange lights flashing, marshals swarming the wreckage. You can hear them shouting, their voices urgent but professional. Someone taps on the side of your cockpit, checking for a response. Your fingers twitch, slow and uncoordinated, but you give them a thumbs-up.

The crowd, stunned into silence, exhales as one. The commentators try to fill the dead air with reassurances, but the tension is thick. On social media, the crash is already going viral—clips looping endlessly, speculation running rampant.

The straps of your harness dig into your bruised shoulders as the adrenaline begins to wear off, replaced by a dull, spreading ache that makes every breath feel like a struggle. The world around you is a cacophony of noise—sirens wailing, the frantic chatter of the marshals, the dull roar of the crowd beyond the barriers—but it all feels distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears.

"Try not to move too much," one of the medical staff instructs gently, his gloved hands already working to unbuckle you from the mangled remains of your car. "Can you feel everything?"

You give a small, shaky nod. "Yeah," you breathe, wincing as you shift slightly. "Just sore. Really sore."

The relief on his face is immediate, but the tension in the air remains. They move carefully, extracting you from the cockpit as gingerly as possible. As soon as you're free, your knees threaten to buckle, but strong arms catch you before you hit the ground.

"You’re alright, we’ve got you," another voice reassures, steadying you as they guide you toward the waiting medical car. The flash of cameras in the distance, the low hum of anxious murmurs from the pit lane—it all feels surreal.

The moment the checkered flag waves, Lando doesn’t care about anything else. Not the debrief, not the podium celebrations—none of it matters. His car screeches to a halt in parc fermé, barely lined up properly, but he’s already halfway out before the engine even fully shuts down. His hands rip off his steering wheel, then his helmet, tossing it aside as he breaks into a full sprint toward the medical center.

His lungs burn, but he doesn’t slow down. The only thing driving him forward is the sheer panic gripping his chest. His mind replays the crash on an agonizing loop—the way your car crumpled, how long it took for you to respond, the thought of losing you was eating him alive. He pushes past team personnel, ignoring their calls, shoving the medical center doors open with enough force to make them slam against the walls.

"Where is she?" His voice is sharp, almost desperate.

A nurse barely has time to react before he spots you. Sitting on the edge of the examination bed, bruised and battered, your race suit scuffed with streaks of dirt and dried blood. Your arm is wrapped around your ribs, and there’s a gash just below your glove, crimson seeping through the fabric. Your right knee is swollen, and every inhale looks like it stings.

But you’re alive.

Lando exhales a shuddering breath, his entire body sagging with relief. He crosses the room in seconds, reaching you like you might disappear if he doesn’t move fast enough. Without hesitation, he takes your hand, gripping it tightly like an anchor. His fingers ghost over your bruised knuckles, his touch impossibly gentle.

"Jesus, Y/N…" His voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of the fear still clinging to him.

You manage a small, tired smile despite the pain. "I’m fine. Trust me, it’s not as bad as it looks."

His jaw clenches, eyes scanning you like he doesn’t quite believe you. "Not as bad as it looks? You scared the hell out of me. Don’t do that again. Ever."

The intensity of his words makes your chest tighten—not just from the bruises, but from the raw emotion behind them. You squeeze his hand, grounding him.

Later, after the doctors clear you—bruised ribs, mild concussion, but nothing broken—you limp out of the medical center, Lando’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. Every step sends a dull ache through your body, but at least you’re standing.

David intercepts you, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "So, uh… don’t shoot the messenger, but you’re getting a fine for the team radio."

You blink. "You’re kidding, right?"

Before David can even answer, Lando scoffs, disbelief flashing across his face. "She just survived a high-speed crash, and they’re fining her for swearing? Seriously?"

David sighs, handing over the paperwork with an apologetic shrug. "Yeah… FIA wasn’t too happy. Regulations and all."

You stare at the notice for a beat before letting out a tired, incredulous laugh. "Yeah, okay. Next time I crash at 200 mph, I’ll be sure to say ‘gosh darn it’ instead."

Lando shakes his head, jaw tight with frustration. "Unbelievable."

But instead of dwelling on it, he just pulls you in closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The warmth of his embrace eases some of the lingering tension in your body. "Don’t worry about it, love. If they want to fine you for being human, let them. You’re still the toughest person I know."

You smile, leaning into him, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. Because at the end of the day, a fine means nothing when you still have Lando by your side.

And, as expected, the media goes absolutely wild.

"Formula 1 Driver Y/N Y/L/N Fined After Shocking Radio Message Post-Crash!"

"Did Y/N Deserve Her FIA Penalty? Fans Debate Over Radio Outburst!"

"Y/N’s Crash Sparks Controversy: Was the Fine Justified?"

The headlines flood every social platform within minutes. Slow-motion replays of the crash loop endlessly on TV screens, side-by-side with grainy images of you wincing as you climbed out of the wreckage. Every angle is analyzed, every expression dissected.

Your post-race hospital visit is barely over when reporters start circling like vultures, bombarding you with questions before you even have the strength to face them, but Lando was having none of it.

Seated in front of the media, still in his race suit, Lando’s jaw is tight, hands clenched on the table as microphones are shoved toward him.

"Lando, there's been a lot of discussion about Y/N’s penalty for language over the team radio. Do you think the FIA was justified in issuing the fine?"

He scoffs, jaw tightening. "Are we seriously focusing on a fine when she just survived a massive crash?" His voice is sharp, edged with barely restrained anger. "She was in pain. She was shaken up. And she swore—who wouldn’t? It's ridiculous."

The journalists shift uncomfortably, but another one presses on. "Rules are rules, though. FIA has strict guidelines about profanity on public transmissions. Do you think it sets a bad precedent if they don’t enforce them?"

Lando lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Mate, if your first thought after seeing a crash like that is to talk about a penalty, maybe rethink your priorities."

Another journalist jumps in. "But don’t you think it’s important to maintain professionalism on the radio? A lot of young fans look up to drivers."

Lando rolls his eyes. "Right, because what’s really damaging to young fans isn’t the fact that someone just had a life-threatening accident, but the fact that she said ‘fuck’ while trying to breathe properly again." He leans forward, voice lower but no less cutting. "If we’re talking role models, maybe start by making sure the sport actually supports its drivers instead of fining them for reacting like a human being."

His words are already making waves, clips spreading across social media.

And while you’re still exhausted, still aching from the crash, there’s something about seeing him so openly, fiercely in your corner that makes your heart ache in the best way.

Even after the official interviews, the media frenzy doesn’t stop. Paparazzi crowd outside the paddock, desperate for a statement. Team members act as buffers, but there’s only so much they can do.

As you slowly make your way out of the motorhome, Lando’s arm firmly around your waist, cameras flash, voices overlapping as reporters shout over each other.

"Y/N, do you think the FIA’s decision was fair?"

"Do you regret your words on the radio?"

"Lando, how did it feel watching the crash happen live?"

He tenses beside you. "How do you think it felt?" His voice is sharp, protective. "I watched someone I love crash at full speed. So no, I don’t really give a damn about some radio penalty right now."

You squeeze his hand in silent gratitude. He doesn’t have to be this involved, but he is. Always.

Another journalist turns to you, voice softer but no less intrusive. "Y/N, how are you feeling after the accident?"

You exhale, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the lingering pain. "Sore, obviously. But I’m okay."

"Will you be racing in the next Grand Prix?"

Lando answers before you can. "She’s focusing on recovery first. That’s the priority."

It’s not a direct confirmation, but it’s enough to hold off the speculation—at least for now.

The chaos of the day finally starts to feel like a distant memory as you curl up on the couch in Lando’s apartment. An ice pack rests gently on your ribs, offering some comfort against the bruising, but it’s Lando’s presence that truly calms you. His arm drapes protectively around you, pulling you in close like he never wants to let go, his warmth surrounding you in a way that makes you feel safe. His thumb moves in slow, soothing circles on your arm, the rhythm gentle and steady.

It’s such a contrast to the frantic energy of the day—the flashing cameras, the endless questions, the tension in the air—but now, in this moment, all of that feels like it belongs to another world. This is where you’re grounded.

You sigh, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the quietness of the room wrap around you like a soft blanket. But there’s something still heavy in the pit of your stomach, a lingering feeling that something was unsettled. You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes tracing the faint lines of worry still etched across his face, the tension that’s only now starting to ease from his features.

"You didn’t have to go that hard for me," you murmur, your voice soft, though you know the words don’t quite do justice to what you’re feeling. You had been overwhelmed by everything that happened, but he—he had been beside you every step of the way, his every move showing how deeply he cared.

He scoffs, shaking his head slowly like the idea is completely foreign to him. "Of course I did. It’s bullshit," he mutters, his voice laced with frustration that hasn’t quite gone away. "You should be getting support, not fined for a stupid word." The words come out with a little more heat than he intends, but it’s the underlying softness in his voice, the way he’s speaking to you like he wants to protect you from the world’s unfairness, that makes your heart flutter.

You chuckle softly, a tired sound that makes his grip on you tighten just a fraction, like he’s afraid you might slip away. "Guess I owe you, huh?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Lando’s response is immediate—he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. His hands shift, cradling you with a tenderness that almost feels too gentle, like you’re something precious he’s afraid to break. "Just don’t scare me like that again," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, as though the thought of you being hurt again is more than he can bear. "And we’ll call it even."

You smile up at him, heart full of warmth for this man who always seems to put your well-being before his own. But you can’t promise him that. You know how the sport works, how unpredictable it is. You’ll never be able to give him that guarantee.

But there’s something you can promise him, something more important. You squeeze his hand, the simple act grounding you both in this moment. Your voice is steady as you look up into his eyes, locking your gaze with his. "No matter what happens," you say, the words firm but soft, a promise from the deepest part of you, "you’ll always have me. I’ll always have you."

His expression softens in a way that makes you think he’s heard every unspoken word in your statement, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you feels full—full of shared understanding, full of the love you have for each other, full of the promise that no matter the challenges, no matter the risks, you’ll face it all side by side.

For a long moment, Lando is quiet, his thumb still brushing over your skin in slow, absentminded strokes. But then his breath catches slightly, and when you glance up, you see it—the way his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. His jaw tenses as if he’s trying to hold it all back, but the emotion is too heavy, too raw.

"I thought I lost you," he admits, his voice breaking just enough to reveal the fear he’s been holding in. "When everything was happening, and I couldn’t reach you..." He trails off, shaking his head as if trying to push the memory away, but his grip on you tightens like he never wants to let go again. "I don’t know what I would’ve done if—"

"Hey," you interrupt softly, your hand moving to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the dampness on his cheek. "I’m here. I’m okay. And I’m not going anywhere."

That seems to break whatever wall he was trying to hold up. Lando lets out a shaky breath, his forehead dropping against yours as he closes his eyes. "I just... I can’t lose you," he confesses, the words raw and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache. "Not you."

You press a soft kiss to his lips, hoping it conveys everything words can’t. "You won’t," you promise against his mouth, your voice unwavering. "I’m right here."

He nods slightly, like he’s trying to believe it, and when he pulls you into his arms again, it’s with a desperation that speaks to how close he felt to losing you. But in this moment, with his heart laid bare and your arms wrapped tightly around each other, there’s nothing else that matters.

Lando kisses you gently on the forehead, his lips lingering there for just a second longer. "That’s all I need," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Then, his arms pull you even closer, his warmth radiating through your bones.

[g1rld1ary]

well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

[tbaluver]

hiyaa! can i request scenarios with the lads boys where MC flashes them in the middle of an argument >< also love your writing so much!! it's actually giving me inspiration to go back to writing myself adjhsfhlds

Flashing Them During An Argument- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader tags: slightly suggestive, not so serious argument, silly a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ omg thank you so much you're so sweet my angel (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ and you def should whenever you can! i hope i get to read whatever you create or hear your ideas ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) also i swear someone req this too and i dont know if im imagining it or i just cant find it(╥﹏╥) anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ ty to my beta reader MWAH @ilovemitsuya any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY

You two had been going back and forth for what felt like hours, trying to decide on what to eat for dinner. Every suggestion he gave was close enough to what you were craving but either it was too far or you just didn’t like the area it was in

The stores were closing soon and you both still couldn’t agree and the frustration was creeping in. Before he gives another suggestion and tries to persuade you, you cut him off by lifting up your shirt with nothing underneath. He didn’t even hesitate, his eyes immediately dropping and feasting on the soft mounds that sit oh so perfectly. He doesn’t even remember what restaurants he suggested, he just knew how enticing they looked.

“So..let’s go to my restaurant?”

“huh..?” He blinked a few times, his gaze still locked on the now covered skin but he can still catch a glimpse of your nipples peeking through your shirt. “oh yeah..sure..” He trails off, his mind completely consumed by how soft they looked.

“okay! let’s get- Xavier!” Before you could even get up, he gently pins you back down, his needy hands snaking up into your shirt.

Zayne:

It started when you gently told him he should get ready to go to bed, it was already getting late. You loved your boyfriend deeply and you admired his passion and dedication to his work but it was clear that he was pushing himself too hard again. He promised he’d finish this last report and he’ll join you later but that was exactly what he said after the last five reports.

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the deep bags beneath them. All the signs of his late night shifts, back to back operations, and countless hours of overtime in the past few days showed. His eyes fluttered shut just for a second, begging to stay closed, only for them to open again as he tried to push through.

You approached him again, urging him to go to bed. You told him he was being stubborn and how those reports could wait but of course, he countered back saying that you didn’t need to stay up and wait for him and that you should be getting some rest too.

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes. But before he delivers another witty comeback, you lifted up your shirt, immediately silencing him. His eyes travel from your face down to your soft breast, losing his original train of thought and thought about how they sit so perfectly to him. They don’t linger for too long as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Zayne tries to regain his thoughts and you fail to notice the small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head. “Just..” He sighs, “...Please, you don’t need to wait for me,” He said softly, standing up from his chair as he approached you. “I suppose I’m overdue for a long needed rest then right?” He whispers, his hands sneaking up inside your shirt.

Rafayel:

You were late, again. The mission took longer than expected and you already knew that Rafayel would be upset when you got home and sure enough, you were right. He didn’t bother to greet you the moment you stepped inside the house. His back was turned to you, ‘focused’ on his sketching. All the responses you got a dismissive “hmph” and a side pout that you’re clearly familiar with.

You gave him a moment to cool off as you slipped into something more comfortable, peeling off your hunter’s uniform before approaching him again. This time, you made an effort to apologize in front of him but he pretended you weren’t even there. “Huh..Do I have some bubbles in my ear? I swear I heard something..” He mumbles, pretending there was absolutely no one in front of him.

This escalates into you two having a back and forth, explaining how your phone died so you couldn’t text him and his responses were rather sarcastic, saying how fishes would’ve started walking on land before you’d ever show up on time. Both of you were exhausted, frustration bubbled inside of you as you paced around, groaning. In a last attempt to get his attention, you stepped back in front of him, lifting your shirt up without a word to flash your breasts in front of him.

His eyes widened, his breath hitching as his gaze slowly trails down. “You-” He shakes his head, fighting back his mind that’s screaming FLASH ME AGAIN. He’s trying to stay strong but unfortunately this sea god is not the strongest soldier when it comes to you. “Oh yeah? Well two can play that game cutie!” He huffs, tugging at the waistband of his pants.

Sylus:

He wouldn’t tell you a thing about his new mission and it was bothering you. How far was it going to be? Who was going to be involved? Nothing. He refused to budge, his lips sealed tighter than usual. Every time you asked, he deflected with vague answers. Every time you offered to help, he would tell you it's alright and that he has everything handled.

“It’s just a short trip.”

But you knew better that a short trip doesn’t involve secrecy. It was probably bigger than that. The tension between you was growing, both of you refusing to give in. But before he could even hint at how dangerous his short trip might be, you lift your shirt up, cutting him off mid sentence. It was a last and desperate attempt for sure to regain his attention, your boobs falling out and flashing Sylus in all it's glory.

His eyes widened for a moment, an amused smirk tugged at his lips as he watched you slowly lower it back down. “Oh? Is this your new counterattack?” He teases, inching closer to you. “I think one move isn’t going to easily take me down. What do you think?” His long fingers twirl the hem of your shirt teasingly. “Amuse me with more and I might just give in.”

Caleb:

clean up on aisle caleb’s pants!

You definitely caught him off-guard from the way his eyes shamelessly looked down immediately the moment you lifted up your shirt to reveal your exposed skin. The way you cut him off his sentence as he almost chokes on his own saliva.

“um..umm..” He stammered, attempting to look at you but his eyes betray him, flickering back down to your exposed skin. He fought the urge, his gaze shifting up and down but he was unable to tear his eyes away, his cock twitching in his pants. 

What was the argument even about? He doesn’t even remember what he said to you a few minutes ago and he doesn’t even remember what color your pants were. He didn’t even notice that you’d already lowered your hands, his gaze burning through the thin fabric as his mind lingered on the bare skin he’d seen. His thoughts of kneading your breasts were cut off when you called out to him.

“Can we do it Caleb?” His eyes snap back up to meet yours, the hypnotizing sight of your exposed skin covered and his mind slowly return back to reality.

“Of course, we can do it anytime pipsqueak,” He replies, a soft smile on his lips, completely unaware of what he'd agreed to. You could’ve signed him up for a cilantro eating contest and he’d win just for you. Whatever you want and say, he’ll do it for you.

[leahrintarou]

Hey. Nice to see you again. Hope you’ve had a good break. I have a request for Haikyuu texts: Calling them husband to see their reaction.

★彡 haikyuu guys reaction to being called "husband"

CHARACTERS: toru oikawa, iwaizumi hajime, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, kozume kenma, kuroo tetsuro, suna rintarou, satori tendou, and bokuto kotaro WARNINGS: fem reader, she/her, swearing, sfw, fluff AN: HII thank u sm for requesting! i hope you enjoy :)

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likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

got a request in mind? send it in! :)

[little-jana]

"Soft Words in a Loud World"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (vague, non-explicit), hurt/comfort

Summary: You don’t like shouting—haven’t for as long as you can remember. But Spencer knows. And Spencer never does.

a/n: requested by anon! Thank you, hope u like it! 💞

The first time Spencer saw you flinch at raised voices, he didn’t say anything.

He just noticed.

It was during a briefing, when Hotch had snapped out orders a little too sharply in response to a particularly frustrating case. It wasn’t directed at you, but that didn’t matter. The moment the tension spiked, you had gone quiet, your shoulders stiff, your gaze locked onto a fixed point on the table.

You hadn’t reacted too noticeably—probably not enough for most people to pick up on it.

But Spencer wasn’t most people.

And Spencer noticed everything.

After that, he made sure to be careful.

Not obviously, not in a way that would make you feel singled out. Just small things—lowering his voice when he spoke to you, never raising it even when he got passionate about a subject (which, let’s be honest, was often). If the team was in a heated discussion, he’d subtly shift his body so he was blocking you from the worst of it.

He never asked about it. Never pried.

But you knew he knew.

And you were grateful.

It wasn’t until months later that you brought it up.

You and Spencer were sitting on his couch, legs stretched out over a mess of books and case files. The TV was on, playing some old sci-fi movie that neither of you were really paying attention to.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you,” you murmured.

Spencer blinked, looking up from the book in his lap. “For what?”

You hesitated.

“For… never shouting,” you admitted, your voice softer than before.

Spencer frowned slightly. “I wouldn’t have a reason to shout at you.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “But I mean, even when things get intense. Or frustrating. You always…” You gestured vaguely. “You just don’t.”

His expression shifted—understanding settling in like it always did when he pieced things together.

“I just don’t like it,” you said, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I never have.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, considering his words.

Then, gently, “Did something happen?”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. A long time ago.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t have to.

Spencer nodded, as if that was all he needed to know.

“I get it,” he said simply. “Loud voices can be overwhelming. They change the whole atmosphere of a room. Even if they’re not directed at you, it can still feel like a threat.”

Your breath caught slightly.

Because, yeah.

That was exactly it.

You glanced at him, and Spencer gave you a small, knowing smile. “It’s not the same thing,” he admitted, “but I don’t like shouting either. Growing up, I used to get overwhelmed in loud environments. Too much stimulation all at once.” He tapped his temple lightly. “My brain doesn’t filter external stimuli the way most people’s do. Everything just… comes in at the same volume.”

That made sense. You’d always known Spencer had a hard time with crowded spaces and loud noises.

“I just learned to cope with it,” he continued. “But I always preferred quiet.”

You studied him for a moment, warmth filling your chest. “Guess that’s why we get along so well.”

Spencer smiled. “Guess so.”

And that was it.

No prying. No pushing.

Just understanding.

Just Spencer.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

You never had to ask him to be gentle with his words.

He just was.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I have a super serious art request

Draw whatever you want to draw

THANK YOU, now I have an excuse to draw my silliest favorite character from literally my only happy Gravity Falls AU: Mimic!Stan.

The basic premise of the lore:

And some extra rambles about the AU:

Mimics are different from shapeshifters! While the latter tend to be more fluid in shape- frequently changing appearance and form for brief moments- mimics usually stick to one disguise for a longer period of time. They do alter their shape, but they prefer to maintain a relatively consistent form for as long as they need until they need a new one.

Mimics are reality alterers. They are more powerful than shapeshifters, in a way, but their abilities are still considered relatively minor, compared to more powerful reality alterers.

This is because a mimic's main goal is to establish a long term food source to feed themselves, and in order to do that, they need a long term shape / identity (hence why they don't often shift forms). They will either build an entirely new identity, or take over an existing person's life in order to seamlessly infiltrate and artificially graft themselves into their surroundings. They mildly alter reality around them in order to solidify their mimicry.

For example, you could one day suddenly find yourself with a new uncle. He didn't exist yesterday, but every family photo in your house indicates that he has been present in your life since the beginning. Your memories now contain him, even though you've never met this man before. Everyone else around you also remember him, and recognize his face and voice, even though until today, he didn't even have an identity. It's like he's always been there, but he hasn't, really. That's what mimics do.

-------------------------

Stan is a mimic! He was considered the runt amongst the mimics in Gravity Falls back when the town was new. He was young (in mimic standards) and inexperienced, and expected to starve within a few months. His mimicry was fine, but his reality altering abilities were weak. He was unable to properly integrate himself into town, and kept failing.

ENTER STAGE STANFORD PINES. Born twin-less and former child prodigy, recently graduated from West Coast Tech and having finally escaped his stifling hometown, Ford is thrilled to have arrived in Gravity Falls! Hopefully he won't be as lonely in this new town as he spent his childhood, constantly feeling like he's missing a piece of himself. (*wink wink*)

Good news for Ford, he'll soon be getting an anomaly knocking right at his door, looking exactly like him and insisting that he's his twin brother. Yes, really! Check your photographs. What do you mean your photos are empty? Damnit, again?

(It was Stan. He failed. Again. He's lucky Ford is weird and sees this as a perfect research opportunity.)