#Thank you for sharing so I could also share it!!!

[alsofoundinpeas]

The View from Here

Summary: After a few chance encounters, Spencer finds himself developing a crush on Y/N. When he discovers she lives across from him, he spends countless hours admiring her from a distance, too nervous to make the first move. But when her package is mistakenly delivered to his door, it sparks the beginning of something more than just a crush and stolen glances through the window.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This could be considered dubcon (Spencer watches reader through her window but doesn't realize that she actually wants him to) so please be aware of that! Masturbation (both m and f). Use of a sex toy/penetrative use of a sex toy (f!receiving). Perv!Spencer (he means well truly, but alas he is a man) but also a hint of Perv!Reader (since she's intentionally doing things to grab his attention?? I'm not quite sure how to label that I'm sorry!!) Themes of voyeurism/exhibitionism (they both watch each other get off). Sub!Spencer (gotta squint for it now but it'll be more prevalent in part two). Both fluffy and smutty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This was started to fill a request for sub!Spencer but I got carried away forgive me LMAO but part two is almost complete and will be out soon :') I wrote this with season two Reid in mind before the writers (further) traumatized the absolute fuck out of him. This is a bit different from my usual writing, so I truly hope you guys enjoy it! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 I truly do appreciate each and every single one of you and the feedback I get from you guys, I promise :') <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

The door slammed behind him as Spencer stormed into his apartment, tossing his satchel onto the couch with an angry groan. The stress of work had been wearing him down for weeks, but today had pushed him over the edge.

He’d just wrapped up the reports for their latest case and was on his way to deliver them to Hotch when an oblivious agent from the sex crimes unit collided with him. The force sent the cup of scalding coffee in her hands flying, drenching him and his case files. Instead of responding to her blubbered apologies, he had just stomped off to the bathroom to clean himself and calm down. Not only was it painful and humiliating, but it also destroyed all of his hard work. Work he'd now have to redo tomorrow.

Spencer exhaled sharply, fingers raking through his hair as he trudged toward the bedroom. All he wanted was to strip off his coffee-stained clothes and lose himself in the pages of his new book, anything to escape the tension of the day. Once inside, he moved to close the curtains but stopped short, his eyes landing on something unexpected just before he pulled them shut. His body went rigid, his heart racing as an unfamiliar warmth spread through him. He blinked, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

There, in the apartment directly across from his bedroom window, was Y/N.

Spencer had bumped into her a handful of times—their first meeting happening at the library just down the street when they'd both reached for the same book, then a few chance encounters after that at his favorite coffee shop, and the most recent interaction being one of the most mortifying moments of his life.

He’d stumbled over the sidewalk on his way to work, and he’d never wanted to disappear into the ground more than in that moment. But she had been there, her smile warm and gracious as she helped him gather the scattered books and case files that had spilled from his satchel, her kindness leaving him flustered and breathless. He’d been captivated by her the first time they met, but it was that moment that truly cemented his fascination with her.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat when he realized how wrong it was to be watching her through her bedroom window. But despite the guilt creeping in, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It was as if he were under some kind of spell, captivated by the sight of her spinning around her room, carefree and radiant.

She wore a loose t-shirt that slipped off one shoulder and the tiniest pair of shorts he’d ever seen, completely at ease in her own space. She held something in her hand, singing into it like a microphone, completely lost in the music. Spencer didn’t realize when it happened, but a smile tugged at his lips, the stress of the day forgotten as he watched her. Her joy was so genuine and infectious that it pulled at him in ways he hadn’t expected, leaving him momentarily breathless.

His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N twirled around, singing as she faced her window. Spencer released a startled yelp, frantically yanking the curtains shut before she could catch him staring. His heart raced in his chest as he dared a quick peek through the fabric, anxious to see if she had noticed. Thankfully, she seemed oblivious, still happily dancing around her room, unaware of his presence.

"Oh my God," Spencer muttered, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized he hadn’t been caught staring like a complete weirdo at the woman he’d developed a crush on, despite having barely exchanged five sentences with her.

He was sure she didn't even remember his name. Why would she? All he'd managed to do during their brief interactions (besides busting his ass on the concrete the one time) was stutter out barely audible attempts at conversation before hastily retreating, his face scarlet and slacks uncomfortably tight.

Spencer had assumed Y/N lived nearby, but he hadn’t realized she was this close.

The day's weight melted away as Spencer peeled off his work clothes and slipped into his pajamas. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and sank back into his pillows, propping himself up against the headboard. But as he tried to focus on the pages, the image of Y/N dancing in her room kept invading his thoughts. His mind refused to settle, consumed with ideas of how he might run into her again now that he knew that not only was she just a building away—she was right across from him.

As the weeks passed, Spencer’s routine began to mirror Y/N’s more and more as he grew increasingly familiar with her schedule.

He began waking up earlier, noticing that she typically left her apartment an hour before he needed to head to work. With the extra time, Spencer found himself watching her with quiet awe each morning while she got ready, fascinated by how the soft light from the window seemed to illuminate her features as she did her hair and makeup. He also started visiting his favorite coffee shop daily instead of just once a week, hoping for a chance encounter before his workday began.

Night after night Spencer found his gaze inevitably drawn to her window, the soft glow of her bedroom lighting luring him in like a moth to a flame. He would trace her movements, pretending to read his book as it shielded his face, should he need to feign innocence. Something was alluring about her, even in the simplest moments—whether she was folding laundry or typing away on her computer, she was impossible to look away from.

Spencer couldn’t shake his curiosity about Y/N’s habit of leaving her curtains open.

Did she know he could see her? Was it intentional? Their apartments, situated at the ends of the buildings on the top floors, offered a level of privacy that made him feel certain (or at least, he desperately hoped) that no one else could be watching. Perhaps she’d noticed his frequent absences and simply stopped caring about keeping them shut.

The first case away from D.C. after Spencer learned Y/N was so close was more difficult than he expected. As he lay awake in his hotel room, his thoughts kept drifting to her, and the longing grew with each passing hour. He missed her. The only thing driving him was the need to finish the case quickly so he could return to the familiar comfort of his bed, where he could silently admire her from a distance.

The longer he thought about her, the tighter his boxers got. Spencer huffed out a pitiful whine, his hands clenching and unclenching beside himself as he tried to fight his shameful thoughts. This wasn't the first time he'd had these thoughts about her since meeting her, no. But it is the first time he's had the mental image of her undressing to go along with his fantasies.

The first time it happened, Spencer had all but thrown himself off his bed in his haste to close his curtains. His heart had pounded so hard his chest ached as he'd squeezed his eyes shut, willing the sight of her raising her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the ground out of his mind. The second time, he took a little more time to slink over to his window and draw his curtains, his pulse racing at the sight of her bare back and the smallest glimpse of lacy panties as she began to shimmy out of her pants. The third time, he had crouched by his window, peeking out despite having pulled his curtains closed, and watched as she stripped completely before heading into her conjoined bathroom.

That was the first and (so far) only time he'd touched himself to what he'd seen.

The moment her bathroom door had clicked shut, Spencer sprang to his feet and hurried into his own bathroom, tearing his clothes off before stepping underneath the stream of hot water. One of his palms smacked the wall while his other hand frantically pumped his aching cock, whimpers and groans flowing freely from his lips as he imagined Y/N's hand around him instead of his own. It didn't take long for him to spill into his hand, and unfortunately, it took even less time for the guilt to slam into him at the realization of what he'd done.

After that night, Spencer had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let it happen again, knowing just how inherently wrong it was to jerk off to the sight of his neighbor (the woman he secretly admired) getting undressed when she had no idea she had even been watched.

But tonight, alone and frustrated in his hotel room, he was struggling to stick to that vow.

After another hour of tossing and turning in bed, Spencer released a resigned sigh. "Just this once," he murmured to himself, swallowing hard. He let his hand slip underneath the waistband of his boxers to push them down his thighs before spitting in his palm, hissing at the contact as his hand wrapped around his arousal. His eyes fluttered shut as his imagination began to take over, his hand slowly increasing its pace as images of Y/N and her lacy panties raced through his mind.

Spencer's mouth hung open as his thumb swiped over the swollen tip of his cock, a bead of precum oozing out and aiding his movements. He pictured her hovering above him, her gaze teasing as she stroked him faster and faster. He imagined how she'd sound as she talked him through it, her sweet voice luring him closer and closer to the edge. His hips bucked into his hand as his climax took hold of him, a choked moan of Y/N's name ripping its way from his throat as he painted his heaving chest with his cum.

With shaky hands, he cleaned himself, still dizzy from the aftershocks of his orgasm. After wiping himself off, he collapsed onto the bed, surrendering to the exhaustion that weighed him down. That night, his dreams were filled with Y/N—her radiant smile, her captivating voice, and the tenderness in her eyes whenever they met his. When he woke the next morning, breathless and murmuring her name, he realized he was in deep.

What Spencer didn’t know was that Y/N had known exactly what she was doing all along.

From the moment she reached for the same book as him—an act carefully planned to give her an excuse to talk to him—she’d been captivated by the stuttering genius. New to the neighborhood, she had noticed him a few times before finally gathering the courage to make her move. All it took was his flustered "Oh! I-I’m so sorry, here—" paired with furrowed brows and those wide, innocent eyes, and she was utterly entranced.

When Y/N discovered that Spencer lived right across from her, it felt like she’d hit the jackpot.

After their previous encounters, she’d quickly noticed the effect she had on him, and from that moment, she devised a plan to capture his attention. She began with subtle moves, leaving her curtains open one night so he’d realize she was the one across from him. She chose an outfit she was sure would draw his gaze, and when he nearly ripped his curtain rod off the wall, convinced she’d caught him looking, she knew she’d succeeded.

When Y/N noticed he was waking up earlier, watching her get ready with curious eyes over what he clearly thought was a cleverly placed book (which, in reality, did nothing to hide his attention), she decided it was time to raise the stakes.

The first time she undressed with the curtains open, she sank to her knees cackling at how quickly Spencer had scrambled out of bed to shut his own. The second time, she relished in how he hesitated before shutting his curtains so he could catch a glimpse of her lacy panties (ones she’d chosen with him in mind), but it still wasn't enough. By the third time, she was done teasing. She’d stripped down completely bare in her room, grinning smugly as she turned to walk into her bathroom because she’d seen Spencer not-so-subtly peeking through his curtains.

When Spencer still didn’t make a move after that, Y/N decided she was done waiting.

With him away on a case for the past three days, she saw the perfect opportunity to set her new plan in motion. After work one evening, she made her way to his building, quickly locating his apartment number—a detail that, to her surprise, matched hers. Smiling to herself, she placed her order and waited for him to return, ready for the next phase of her plan to unfold.

After nearly twelve grueling days away, Spencer finally returned late Friday night, aching for the comfort of home—and, more importantly, the sight of Y/N. Exhausted, he stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, eager to collapse into bed and wake up to her face rather than the grim case photos that had dominated his thoughts. His eyes half-lidded with fatigue, he fumbled with the key, unlocking the door before shoving it open.

“Oh! What the-“

Spencer cursed under his breath as he stumbled, his eyes dropping to the package at his feet. Frowning, he bent down slowly to inspect it. He hadn’t ordered anything, and there was no reason to expect anything from his mom. So... what was this?

The package was a light pink, medium-sized bag. Spencer nudged it onto its other side to check the sender, and his breath caught. It was addressed to Y/N, though she’d written the wrong number in the street address, causing it to end up at his door. He instantly recognized the name of the online boutique, having (unfortunately) heard Emily, JJ, and Penelope brazenly talk about ordering sex toys and such from this place.

What could Y/N have possibly ordered from there?

Spencer was wide awake now, his pulse quickening as he grabbed the package, slammed the door shut, and locked it. He carried it into the kitchen, turning on the light as he went. There was no way he’d open it—he knew that would be both illegal and downright creepy. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn’t resist running his hands over the package, trying to guess what was inside.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully handled the package, giving it a slight squeeze. He could feel the soft outline of fabric inside a smaller plastic bag, his mind spinning with possibilities about what kind of set Y/N might have ordered. A small, involuntary gasp escaped him as his fingers brushed against something hard, separately wrapped from the lingerie. Was that… a dildo? Vibrator, maybe?

A quick glance at the clock told him it was far too late to return her package now. He swallowed, setting the bag down on the table with a mental note to take it to her first thing in the morning. He had the weekend off, and he knew she didn’t work weekends, so it wouldn't be a problem bringing it over. The only problem was going to be looking her in the eyes without turning into a complete mess.

Spencer rushed to his room, his excitement growing as he headed to bed, knowing he’d finally see Y/N tomorrow—in person, not just through her window.

The morning arrived quicker than he had expected, but for the first time, he was happy to hear his alarm. It was 9:30 a.m., giving him enough time to shower and get dressed before making the short walk to Y/N's apartment. More importantly, it would give her a chance to wake up before he just showed up at her door with her package in hand and rambling like a nervous mess.

Spencer’s nerves began to take over as he finished his shower and started getting dressed, his hands trembling as he pulled on his sweater. The last time they'd spoken was when he'd all but face-planted into concrete in front of her and then practically bolted off once she'd helped him gather his things (after a lengthy, awkward apology of course). What if she thought he was a freak?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Spencer took a deep breath, grabbed the package, summoned the last of his courage, and walked out the door.

A hesitant knock at her front door had Y/N grinning smugly as she rose from the couch and headed toward the door. She’d been waiting for this since she’d seen Spencer’s light come on late the night before. Her package was finally here.

The door opened to reveal a nervous Spencer, his eyes lighting up when they landed on her. He instinctively adjusted his glasses, his nose twitching as a small, shy smile appeared on his face.

"Spencer! Hey! What brings you by?" Y/N beamed, stepping aside to let him in. She had to suppress a giggle at her innocent act—she knew exactly why he was here.

Spencer blinked in surprise, both at her invitation and the fact that she remembered his name, pausing briefly before stepping into her apartment. His gaze wandered around, taking in the cozy surroundings with quiet admiration. When he realized she was waiting for him to speak, he cleared his throat, his face flushing as he held up the package.

"I, uh… I just wanted to return this," Spencer stammered, his words tripping over each other. "You had one number wrong on the street address, and, funny enough, we have the same apartment number, so it ended up at my door. I thought the least I could do was bring it over, especially after you helped me when I… well, fell." He offered a shy smile, his nerves still running rampant.

Y/N accepted the package with a smile, her fingers brushing lightly against his before he quickly pulled his hand back. "I could’ve sworn I got the address right this time," she said with a teasing laugh. "You’d think after a few months here I’d have it down by now, I'm sorry."

Spencer quickly shook his head, trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart and the lingering sensation of her touch as he waved it off. "You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. It happens," he said sincerely, his fingers nervously twisting the ends of his sleeves now that the package was no longer in his hands. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind bringing your mail by anytime. I just hate the thought of it sitting at my door or in my mailbox while I’m away," he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he gave her a warm smile.

"Well, aren't you quite the gentleman?"

Y/N placed the package on her coffee table and then headed toward the kitchen, gesturing for Spencer to follow. He blushed profusely, swallowing hard as he willed away the dirty thoughts that were caused by that simple comment before trailing after her. She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she reached into her cabinet for two mugs, smirking to herself as she noticed him quickly avert his gaze from where it had landed on her ass.

Y/N placed the mugs on the counter, then turned to Spencer with a genuine smile. "Thanks for bringing it to me instead of just sending it back like most people would," she said. "How about a cup of coffee as a small token of my appreciation?"

Spencer nodded, thanking her as she fixed them both a cup. She raised an eyebrow, watching him add enough sugar to send a horse into cardiac arrest, but she kept quiet. Once they’d both prepared their cups to their liking, they headed back to the living room, Y/N sitting close enough that Spencer could feel the warmth of her body radiating toward him.

"So... did you take a peek inside of it?"

Spencer coughed violently, choking on the sip he’d just taken, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet as he frantically shook his head. Y/N’s expression shifted to concern as she patted his back, gently rubbing in soothing circles to help him catch his breath.

"What? N-no, I would never! That's literally illegal and so invasive—" Spencer sputtered, his eyes wide as he stared at her, clearly taken aback.

Y/N's brows furrowed briefly before she erupted into laughter, her head tilting back as she laughed loudly. Leaning in, she rested a hand on his thigh, her tone softening. "Spencer, sweetheart, I was just joking," she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

He relaxed immediately, fighting the urge to lean into her touch as her hand lingered on his leg. "Thanks for that," Spencer said with a playful roll of his eyes. "Just what I needed this morning—choking on my drink and desperately hoping you knew the Heimlich maneuver." His cheeks were still flushed, a mix of embarrassment from her teasing and the aftereffects of his coughing fit.

After a pot of coffee and hours of conversation, Spencer left with a grin so wide his cheeks ached and Y/N’s number saved in his phone "just in case any more of her mail ended up at his door." He silently thanked whatever force had kept him from backing out earlier that day, grateful for the time he’d gotten to spend with her because of it. He’d found himself falling even harder for her, already yearning for her company despite having just left her place.

That night, as Spencer climbed into bed, something caught his eye from his window. He frowned in confusion as he noticed Y/N’s curtains were open even though they’d been closed just an hour ago. He’d assumed she’d already gone to bed, but apparently, he was mistaken.

He craned his neck, searching for her. She wasn’t in her room, as she usually was when the curtains were open. Where could she be? His jaw nearly hit the floor when she finally appeared, his eyes widening in awe at the sight of her.

Y/N walked into her room from the bathroom, wearing the most stunning lingerie set Spencer had ever seen. The lilac fabric complemented her skin in a way that had him almost drooling on himself, and the thin lace left little to the imagination (though he'd already seen what was underneath it once before and knew exactly how incredibly sexy her body was bare). The sight had his cock stiffening in his boxers, and his teeth dug into his lower lip in anticipation as he watched her.

Spencer nearly toppled out of bed as he watched her crouch down to grab her torn-open package, her hand reaching inside to pull out a light-blue rabbit vibrator. He knew he should get up, close the curtains, look away—do something. But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Instead, he watched in an almost trance-like state as Y/N crawled onto her bed, swallowing hard as she settled back against her pillows. His hand wandered down his body, palming at his erection over his boxers as a whimper slipped from his lips while he watched her legs spread slowly open, propped up and giving him the perfect view of her clothed pussy. He felt overwhelming guilt, especially after the morning they'd shared, but he was powerless against the pull she had on him.

The close proximity of the buildings had always annoyed Spencer, the narrow space between them so tight he swore he could reach out and touch the other building if he tried. But now, he couldn’t have been more grateful. His bed was on the opposite side of the room that Y/N’s was, leaving her perfectly positioned for him to see her from his spot.

Y/N dragged the tip of the vibrator up and down her inner thigh, teasing herself as the fabric of the lace dampened with her arousal. Her head lolled back against the pillows, and her chest rose and fell with a sigh as she finally placed the vibrator against her clit through her panties. Her back arched at the touch, and her lips opened around a moan he desperately wanted to hear.

Spencer considered himself a sane man (for the most part). But he had never been more tempted in his life to leap through a window than he was right now. If it meant landing in her room so he could at least have the chance to beg for a taste of her, he'd happily do it.

His hand halted its movement, instead moving to his waistband so he could wriggle out of the constricting fabric. He kicked his boxers to the floor like they'd scorned him before his hand wrapped around his cock once more. He leaned forward, letting saliva dribble from his lips to coat himself before stroking himself slowly, teasing himself the way Y/N was right across from him in her room.

When Y/N dipped the vibrator into her panties, Spencer's breath hitched in his throat. He watched in rapt fascination as she paused her movements, her free hand shoving the lace down her thighs before she continued. With the fabric now out of the way, Y/N began to run the tip of the vibrator up and down her slit, collecting her arousal and spreading it around before she slowly eased the toy into herself.

An obscene moan ripped its way from Spencer's throat at the sight, and his hand sped up while his eyes struggled to stay open. He watched through hooded lids as she began to fuck herself in earnest now, her hips rocking into the toy and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as she brought herself to the edge. Spencer whimpered as his body began to writhe against his sheets, sparks of pleasure zinging up and down his spine as he worked himself toward his climax.

All it took to send him over the edge was the sight of Y/N's legs thrashing as she came around the toy, a sight that left him both so aroused he couldn't breathe and so jealous of a toy he debated just how truly sane he considered himself to be after this. With a swipe of his thumb over his flushed head, Spencer came in spurts across his tummy, his hand pumping gently through the aftershocks until he was trembling and gasping Y/N's name like it was a mantra.

Once Spencer could finally open his eyes, he looked over at Y/N's window and saw she was no longer in bed, the soft light spilling from under her bathroom door the only sign of where she was. He rolled out of his bed to indulge in what was now becoming a routine walk of shame to his bathroom to clean himself off, his head spinning from what he'd just seen. He knew the shame of his actions would catch up with him in the morning, but for now, exhaustion and elation kept him from caring.

Spencer stumbled back into his room, half-asleep and ready to crash when his phone buzzed. Crawling into bed, he reached for it, curious about who would be contacting him at this hour. His heart stuttered in his chest, eyes widening in shock as he read the message on the screen.

Glad to see that you enjoyed the show, sweetheart. Next time, just come over. <3

Continued A/N's: AHHH I truly hope you guys enjoyed that! The next part gets FILTHYYYY and I can't wait to finish it hahahaaaa. Please let me know what you think because I'm thinking of doing more in the future that would be similar but of course I want to make content you guys will actually enjoy as well <3

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[shrimpybbq]

obx actress!reader winning an award for best actress and going up to the stage, ready to give her speech. the cameras already captured her and Drew sitting by each others side and the tight hug he gave her as her name was called as the winner. the cameras also caught the big kiss he gave her, along with his lips moving as he told her “I’m so proud of you baby.”

she’s up on the stage giving her speech, about to wrap up when she takes a deep breath, turning to find drew in the crowd. she’d already thanked the directors and the crew and her parents, but now it was his turn.

“And to my Joey, I love you. Thank you for always being by my side, for always encouraging me to take risks and for being the most supportive person in my life. Everyday I get to spend with you is a gift and I will never be able to explain to you how much you mean to me. I love you and thank you.”

all in the crowd could be seen smiling widely, some close with the couple even getting teary eyed. drew and obx!actress reader had become somewhat of a hollywood darling couple, with many eager to see them succeed and remain together. it was rare to see a couple like them, so purely in love and sharing a deep respect and friendship with each other. in a culture of quick marriages and divorces, many held different hopes for these two.

as obx actress!reader returned to her seat, all eyes were on her as she flung herself into the open arms of a now-standing drew. it was clear to see that she had begun to cry as he gently stroked her back, bringing her back to her prior seated position.

for the remainder of the night, the screens would occasionally flicker back over to the couple, showcasing their intertwined hands and their in-love smiles. more than a few headlines the next day spoke of the young couple and the newly discovered nickname given to drew.

I upset myself with this one bc what do you mean this isn’t real life???

taglist: @drewstarkz @rafegf-real @yuckblushin @harrys-housewife @futuremrscameron

(Let me know if anyone else would like to be on the casual post taglist for obx actress!reader! I haven’t added everyone from the taglist for between the lines but let me know and I will add you)

[dwaekkicidal]

Hyunjin and toys was so gooooood!!!! I can’t wait for Lee know 😋

Toys with Lee Know

wc» ~900

cw» fem!reader, sex toy usage, vibrator (f receiving), anal, cockwarming, slight mention of overstim, mentions of oral (m rec), think thats it

cw» idk if i like this or not lol. but i hope you guys like it

'Toys' Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

His favorite: Rabbit Vibrator.

Soo many toys come to mind when I think of Lino, but specifically, I think he would eat up those rabbit vibrator toys. They’re pretty “tame” compared to the other toys he likes, but I think he would love being able to be sweet and slow about it- but also be able to be a complete asshole with it (which unfortunately for you is his fave way)

Minho’s hips rolled forward overwhelmingly slowly, his cock hitting as deep into your ass as he could manage. Your poor hole was swollen and sensitive, thanks to the thorough fucking your boyfriend has given you. Your cunt is equally as worn out- your lips puffy and clit achy as the thrusts and vibrations never end. If you knew anything about Minho- it was that he loved to have you like this. He loved taking you apart piece by piece just to build you back up. And take you apart he did.

“Just like that, Jagi.”

You can barely hear his voice over the sloshy sounds of your filled holes and your cries of overstimulation, but that’s one of his favorite parts. So much so that he occasionally drops your wrists from his free hand in favor of pushing his palm against your mouth, muffling your moans so that he could hear each and every drop of your combined releases drooling out of your hole.

Both of your first orgasms were shared romantically, hands tangled and bodies pressed against each other. But the 2nd and so on were pulled from your bodies like this- you in his lap sitting pretty and absolutely stuffed to the brim. Your pretty ass was cockwarming him while he had his fill of abusing your pussy with one of his favorite toys.

The little bunny ears of the vibrator always slotted perfectly around the sides of your clit no matter how slow or fast his wrist pushed- he made sure of it. When he wasn’t spreading your leg open or holding your wrists down, he was spreading your folds with his middle and ring fingers so that he could make sure you felt everything.

“No more…” He hums into your neck in response, biting down on it softly as he fights the devil on his shoulder.

“One more.” It’s more of a statement, but the tone in his voice lets you know it’s up for debate if you can’t take it. A whine leaves your throat as you tilt your head backwards, giving him more space to work with on your neck and giving him the answer you know he wanted to hear. A wordless ‘Do as you please.’

He tries so hard to fight back the smirk, but it appears all too easily when he angles his wrist slightly and pushes. He pushes so eagerly that the veins in his arms pop out- something you can only feel from the way your nails dig into his arms. Like this, the tip of the toy nudges right against your g-spot, making your eyes roll into the back of your head and your jaw drop to your chest.

Despite the blurriness in your eyes, you manage to watch as Minho fucks the toy into you over and over again- making sure to roll it forward as he pushes in to imitate the way his hips would fuck into you.

A gasp leaves your throat when you feel the knot suddenly snapping in your stomach, you were so out of it that you hadn’t even noticed how close your orgasm was. But he knew- he always knew. And part of you was happy he knew because he bottomed the toy out the second your orgasm hit, moving his hand to push the bunny ears down against your clit with his thumb with enough pressure to make you cum hard.

Instinctively your hand shoots out to his that was around the toy and you tried desperately to push it off. The vibrations combined with the pressure make your orgasm so much stronger than you were used to, making your body twitch uncontrollably. He only huffs out a laugh and snatches your hand with his free one, intertwining your fingers together and preventing you from pushing him off of you.

As you come down from what was probably the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, he loosens the pressure on your clit and pulls the toy out of you. He turns the vibrations to one of the lowest settings and teases the length of it along your folds, rubbing you with it and making you shake in overstimulation. Your leg kicks out and he laughs again, this time caving and pulling the toy away from your body to shut it off.

Your eyes open and close slowly as you try to regain complete consciousness and Minho sits behind you patiently, caressing your head and your arms as he helps urge you back to normal. Once he’s sure that you’re fairly back, he eases you off his cock and helps you sit upright on the bed.

“Min… You didn’t cum yet?” He shakes his head and pulls you into a kiss, wrapping one of his veiny hands around the back of your neck to pull you into him. “I can go again- wan’ you to feel good too.”

“Mmm.” He pulls away and looks off for a moment before smiling at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb until it reaches your bottom lip. ‘Think you can put that pretty mouth of yours to use instead?”

Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght

@aeri-skzver

[goingdownondaisuke]

Can you write the tuplar crew with a s/o who can't control their volume in bed (🔞 nsfw)

ofc ofc!! thank u for ur request lovely anon!

(afab reader, she/her pronouns, nsfw under the cut!!)

anya ۶ৎ

gets very flustered when you won't shut the hell up

esp on the tulpar, will try to gently remind you to stay quiet while she's beneath you

and if that doesn't work, she'll slap her hand over your mouth and finger you a bit more roughly

its a bit different when you're riding her face, however

like before, she'll give you a small warning by squeezing your waist

and if you're still loud, she'll dig her long nails into your hips and thrust her tongue into you

...which is kinda counterintuitive but oh well

now, if you two are on earth and in the comfort of your shared home, make all the noise you want!!

she totally gets off to it

'no way im making someone as beautiful as her feel this good...'

"hey, shhh, keep it down a bit, yeah?"

curly ۶ৎ

regardless of whether or not you're typically loud during sex, you're going to be loud w curly, because man is he BIG

he knows you're gonna be loud so he usually fucks you in the cockpit or utility room, where it's a bit more soundproof

but of course he's gonna ask you to quiet down regardless bc who knows who could be lurking??!

he'll either tell you to bite your hand, cover your mouth, or he'll rip off your panties and shove them into your mouth

none of them work

for the rare times he'll take you in his room, he always has you face down and screaming into the pillows

he wants to see ur pretty little face scrunched up in the most blissful expressions, but goddamn he just dicks you down too well

a small (huge) part of him really just wants to fuck you anywhere and let everyone hear you scream his name

"fuck, princess, that feel real good, yeah?"

"god, so loud y/n."

daisuke ۶ৎ

it just swells his ego, tbh

he's just like, "wow, i'm making her make these sounds?!"

so cute

of course, he still wants you to hush, but isn't sure how to get you to without being mean

he'll try to be as sweet as possible, he'll run his hand up and down your waist or press his thumb to your lips while whispering little praises in you ear

"you feel so good, but please keep it down before we get caught!"

starts to get a little scared when you keep moaning and squealing at an excessive volume, genuinely has no idea what to do 😭

like curly, will also try to take you to more closed off places, mainly the utility room because it's not odd for him to be in there anyway

it's hilarious how panicked he gets when you two are fucking, one time he took off his hawaiian shirt and shoved it into your mouth

and surprisingly it did the job!!!!

"am i doing good? i must be..."

jimmy ۶ৎ

he totally gets off to it

so much so that he won't even do anything, he'll just let you scream

it happens so often that curly has to talk to the two of you about your volume

he even separated you two for a day, not like that was gonna do anything beneficial

like daisuke, but on a way worse level, it inflates his ego to no end

you'll be moaning loud as fuck and he's just there grinning in your face

he's not very used to women actually enjoying his dick as much as you do, they're typically just cheap whores or girls he's taken advantage of

but you?? coming and clamping around his cock as you moan into the air?? without being forced??

it makes him come like a thousand times quicker

"ooh, you like that dick? i know you do."

"yeah, let everyone else know who's pussy this is."

swansea ۶ৎ

he knows how to deal with youngins like you, after all, he has tons of experience from his wife

he gives your ass harsh smacks when you don't hush, and if that doesn't work he'll pull his thick cock out of you and chastise you while smacking it on your cunt

he's definitely a pussy slapper/clit pincher

orgasm denial orgasm denial orgasm denial

will also just straight up slap the fuck outta you if you keep on

he's so mean i kinda need him

he literally doesn't understand you, its so easy to shut up to him

prefers to have you ass up face down so you can make all that noise onto whatever surface he's fucking you on

dw he's super sweet afterwards, will gives you kisses all over and whisper praise and hdjidissk

"damn woman, can't be that good..."

"make a noise like that again and i'll leave you high and dry young lady."

[lubdubology]

I love a good soulmates/finding each other in different universes trope and this was just achingly gorgeous.

You were the calmness to his storm; and he, the mighty current that held you steady. Where your heart was an open book, Logan's was a fortress. The world had hardened him, leaving him wary and guarded. And somehow, you found a way inside - not by battering down his walls, but with patience and unwavering devotion.

He'd lived a life where kindness was a forgotten language, where vulnerability was a fatal flaw. Yet he let you in. As naturally as the sun rises each morning, as inevitably as the moon draws the ocean's breath, he let you in. His love wasn't often spoken, but it was lived.

OH MY GOD. If this isn't his whole character in a nutshell, but also, this is just descriptive beauty.

As he speaks, the sheer extent of his agony draws you closer. Instinctively, you grasp his hand, fingers intertwining with ease. "They took her away from me. She–" he trails off, taking a deep breath. "She didn't know how much I loved her."

How could she not have known? you wonder. Love simply radiates from him. It reminds you so much of your own Logan, of the same fire roaring beneath the surface. All intense and bright without uttering a single word. "She knew," you offer quietly.

*sobbing*

And then when they actually do come together? Such tenderness, but it's also laced with the grief the both have and it's hot and ugh. So good.

My only complaint is that this isn't longer, but that's just me being selfish.

Thank you for sharing! ❤️

MY MISTAKES WERE MADE FOR YOU - L.H.

Summary: You lost him. He lost you. What if there's a universe where you find each other?

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ only, Angst (with happy ending), Hurt/Comfort, Touch starved Logan, Unprotected sex (with major feelings), Emotional intimacy (we all know how much he needs this)

A/N: Starting the year off with some good ol' angst. Worst!Logan is such an intricately complex character, I know that man would just crumble at the slightest bit of affection. Hope you enjoy (aka shed some tears)! Title creds to The Last Shadow Puppets.

MASTERLIST

"Do you think we're together in every universe?"

The late afternoon sun slanted through the blinds, striping the rumpled sheets with gold. Logan held you close, his arm an anchor across your waist, fingertips just barely tracing the curve of your body. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams, the light warming the sculpted planes of his chest beneath your cheek.

"There's more than one?" he murmured back.

"You have claws coming out your hands, but you don't believe there's another world just like ours?"

Your fingers found his beard, all silver and entirely Logan. He'd once fretted over the greying strands, scowling whenever he caught his reflection. But your loving reassurance - along with some lighthearted teasing - had eased his worries; he never frowned at the sight of it again. It belonged to him, just as you belonged to him.

"Never thought about it." His whisper, gentle as a caress, lingered in the space between matching heartbeats and entwined limbs. "Everythin' I love's right here."

The clouds weep the tears you hold back. Rain slicks the granite of his headstone, chilling your fingers as you trace the etched letters of his name. Logan Howlett.

Today marks another year. Another year without his warmth, without his quiet affection, without him. Yet he remains everywhere and nowhere, a mere ghost in the hollowness of your soul.

You were the calmness to his storm; and he, the mighty current that held you steady. Where your heart was an open book, Logan's was a fortress. The world had hardened him, leaving him wary and guarded. And somehow, you found a way inside - not by battering down his walls, but with patience and unwavering devotion.

He'd lived a life where kindness was a forgotten language, where vulnerability was a fatal flaw. Yet he let you in. As naturally as the sun rises each morning, as inevitably as the moon draws the ocean's breath, he let you in. His love wasn't often spoken, but it was lived.

It was his calloused hand, scarred and strong, that held your chin as he leaned in to kiss you. His gruff voice that softened with a deep reverence when he breathed your name. And his rare, almost shy smile that revealed a sense of peace he found only in you.

Lost in these memories, you barely register the shift in the air. A shadow falls across the inscription on his headstone and you feel the familiar pull of his presence - yet it's wrong. So terribly, and heartbreakingly wrong. The scent of cigar smoke, the rough texture of his leather jacket, the weariness of his posture - it's all there, a cruel reminder of the man you loved. But they're not the same.

"Not now, Logan," you choke out, eyes squeezing shut against the sudden rush of tears.

His gaze, heavy with a sorrow that mirrors your own, cuts through the pouring rain. The need to reach out and offer comfort becomes a searing ache in his chest, a tightening in his throat that swallows him whole. He knew you'd be here; Wade had told him what today was. But the thought of you alone, braving the crushing weight of your loss, was unbearable. "It's late. Storm's comin' in," he whispers.

"I don't care."

The streetlamp above flickers weakly, its light a trembling finger pointing to the raw pain that pools in your eyes. He doesn't try to argue. Grief is a dear enemy; he's wrestled with its suffocating weight and understood the desire to remain tethered to the echoes of a life now lost.

So, he stays. A silent companion beside you, sharing the cold rain that soaks your clothes, the thunder that cracks overhead, and the loneliness that binds you together in this desolate moment.

It hurts you, overwhelmingly so. He looks just like him - the same rugged lines, the same weathered hands, the same slump to his shoulders. But he's a phantom limb, a missing note in a melody, a haunting reminder of a touch you'll never feel again. It's almost enough to make you laugh, a hollow, broken sound that doesn't quite reach your lips.

When Wade first broke the news, it felt like a punchline to some sick joke. "Another Logan?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes as he remained uncharacteristically serious. "This one's different," he said quietly, "He lost his... well, he lost his you."

You hadn't believed him, not until Logan cautiously stepped out of the bedroom, and the absurd reality of Wade's words struck you hard. The impact was immediate: a sharp, stabbing pain that reopened old wounds. Since then, you both walked a careful tightrope around each other. Much like two ships passing in the night, swept by the same tides, yet forever separated by the vast ocean of heartache.

The heavy silence holds its breath as your sob breaks free. And another, and another, until you're shaking from the force of it all. It's then, seeing you so utterly distraught, that he can no longer resist. The barriers, the invisible walls that had kept you at a distance, vanish like a mirage.

Hesitantly, he gathers you in his arms, your heartbeat thumping wildly against his chest. With slow, measured steps, he carries you home - a bittersweet ache settling deep within. He never got to hold her like this. His you.

The door closes behind him, the relentless downpour waning to a hushed murmur. Logan doesn't release you immediately, selfishly holding on a second longer before lowering you onto the couch. Moving quickly, he returns with a towel, carefully draping it around your shivering form.

His hand lingers, almost of its own volition, a feather-light brush against your cheek as he tucks away a stray hair. He regards you fondly, his gaze kind and searching as he murmurs, "It'll get easier, I promise."

The air crackles with an unspoken longing. Sighing softly, you savour the heat of his touch. And in the stillness of the moment, the question you'd been burning to ask, the one that had been clawing at your mind since you laid eyes on him, simply slips out. "How did you lose her?"

Logan exhales wearily. The memory is a healing scar, one he still prods at in the darkest hours of the night. Guilt, thick and suffocating, flares in his throat. He'd spent years lost in a haze of anger and alcohol, trying to outrun the shame until he finally stopped. The running ceased, the chase ended, and in the aftermath, he found a fragile peace, slowly mending the broken pieces within.

As he speaks, the sheer extent of his agony draws you closer. Instinctively, you grasp his hand, fingers intertwining with ease. "They took her away from me. She–" he trails off, taking a deep breath. "She didn't know how much I loved her."

How could she not have known? you wonder. Love simply radiates from him. It reminds you so much of your own Logan, of the same fire roaring beneath the surface. All intense and bright without uttering a single word. "She knew," you offer quietly.

He doesn't know who initiates the movement, a nearly imperceptible lean. Perhaps it's a silent understanding between two souls craving solace in the face of immense loss. Or perhaps it's something else entirely.

Whatever the catalyst, your lips meet.

The taste of salt and sorrow floods his senses. The first touch is hesitant, a tentative kiss that sends a jolt of unexpected electricity through his very being. It's wrong. He knows it's wrong. But logic falters, crumbling beneath the soft siege of your affections, a yearning he's powerless to fight.

Over time, the need for genuine connection had become a faded photograph in the back of his mind. The colours muted, the edges frayed. But this? The feeling of you against his mouth, all eager and urgent, is a revelation. And your fingers, raking through his hair, loosen the tight coils of tension he'd so long forgotten.

Logan breaks away, only momentarily, before guiding you onto his lap. He tilts forward, reconnecting with your lips. This time much, much slower. It's sweet, achingly so, imbued with a hope that maybe - just maybe, you'll be okay. This is okay.

His hands, still resting on your waist, begin to wander beneath your clothes. Heat from your skin presses against his cheek as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath ghosting over your pulse point. Leaning back slightly, he traces the line of your jaw, urging you to meet his gaze.

A question hangs in his eyes, a seeking of permission, one that you answer with a nod. Then, inch by inch, he eases your sweater over your shoulders, kissing along each newly exposed area. He smiles as you unbutton his shirt in turn, nipping his bicep playfully.

There's no rush; it's all a gentle unfolding, a deliberate exploration of one another. When skin finally meets skin, it's with a sigh of shared relief, a feeling of coming home.

His arousal is painstakingly clear, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. Logan watches as you lower yourself onto him, barely sinking onto his length before a moan spills from your mouth, a mixture of pleasure and a sharp, fleeting sting.

He can tell it hurts, the slight wince in your expression not escaping his notice. Concern knots in his stomach and he immediately stills, hands gripping your hips, as if to pull you back.

"Easy, darlin'," he mumbles, "Tell me if it's too much, okay? We don't have to–"

A growl tears through his mouth, raw and involuntary, as you fully take him in. The tightness around his cock is undeniably satisfying and utterly profound. He clenches his jaw, fighting back another groan, the intensity almost too much to bear.

Then you begin to move. Carefully shifting your hips, a rocking motion that draws him deeper as you thrust in and out. Friction builds with each movement and Logan can't resist the impulse to fuck up into you, his body responding with a desire to be closer.

The rhythm quickens, becoming more insistent, the earlier tenderness giving way to a more fiery, more visceral need. He matches your pace, then takes the lead in an almost demanding fashion.

And then he feels it - a dampness on his shoulder, the subtle hitch of your breath as you seek refuge in the curve of his neck. The tremble of your sighs, his name a choked plea from your lips, tells him everything.

He slows down, his movements gentle. With a light sweep of his thumb, he wipes away the tears trailing down your cheek. "I know, sweet girl, I know," he speaks softly, whispering apologies and sweet nothings as he kisses your temple, "'m here for you. Just let go for me, baby."

The tension drains from your muscles, Logan smiles as you respond to him again. A newfound energy pumps through his body, he thrusts once, then twice, cursing as your gasps grow louder.

The sound of your pleasure is intoxicating. He can feel you squeezing around him, your breath coming in short bursts, each exhale a hot rush against his skin. He's so close, he can almost taste it, a dizzying swell waiting to consume you both. "Fuck, darlin'. Could get used to this," he spits out.

With his free hand, he reaches down, finding the throbbing nub of your clit. The faint pressure, the circling motion of his fingertips, is the final push that sends you tumbling over the edge. A strangled cry breaks free as your body arches towards him, your muscles clenching and releasing in waves, drawing thick ropes of his cum deeper inside you.

Logan pulls out, the warmth of your presence still heavy in his mind. He doesn't speak, not wanting to fracture the delicate intimacy of the moment, instead studying you in awe. The rise and fall of your chest, the curve of your lips, the sheen of sweat on your forehead - it all seems impossibly perfect.

Maybe this wasn't a mistake. Maybe this was the first step towards healing. A journey taken together, hand in hand, through the wreckage of your past, towards a future that feels a little less bleak. The thought settles in his heart, a quiet promise that perhaps, together, you can find your way back to the light.

[drabblejester]

First of all, nice to see you come back!

I was wondering if I could request Jiaoqiu and Dan Heng (separately ofc) x reader where they get a tuskpir to help them sleep? And the reader starts to feel a little bit jealous because they cuddle tuskpir instead of them? The reader tries to hide it because they know it's silly to feel that way, but it's pretty evident that they are a bit upset.

Please and thank you!

ME, MY BOYFRIEND, AND HIS DINGY LITTLE TUSKPIR

requested by: anon!!

pairings: dan heng, jiaoqiu x gn!reader

content warnings: none!!!

comments: honk shii mimimi, the creature. also thank u lieges.. for patience.. i am eternaly greatful…. aauahehehe

DAN HENG:

you’re happy at first! he gets restful sleep, and you get peace of mind. beautiful combo! he is burying his face in its little tummy and snoozing away.

BUT. 💥 he ends up getting just a liiiiittle carried away. almost every night he winds up with the tuskpir in his arms instead of you!!

even in his sleep he sometimes kicks you away and mumbles something like “hnggnnnmhn” which is usual for him, but still sucks.

you end up confronting him about it like it’s a dead serious manner, and both of you wind up having the discussion over some coffee. with the tuskpir under the table

“it helps me sleep.” “JUST LOOK AT IT” (snzzzz snooo snork hhhonk)

both of you wind up coming to a consensus of SHARING the tuskpir, as well as swapping it out. dan heng’s calendar now has a schedule about who sleeps with the tuskpir and when

the tuskpir doesnt care. its sleepy all the time either way

but sometimes now you get to wake up to not only dan heng in your arms- the tuskpir there too! best of both worlds!

JIAOQIU:

of course he’s having nightmares. so his best solution? surprisingly not peppers! instead, he chose a dinky little tubby pink thing to nap with. instead of you.

ooooh how you LOATHE that thing. how come little pinkie gets to bury its face in his tail. that should be YOU!!!!

you’re practically snarling and weeping and writhing around in pure raw jealousy. RAAH THAT SHOULD BE YOU!!!

however, you spare the tuskpir because its empty little head doesn’t know better. but aeons help you if you show it affection(never)

HOWEVER, jiaoqiu is soon confronted by your pleas to stop cuddling little pinkie and to cuddle YOU!!!! and he giggles. in your face. GRRR!!!

he also works out (somewhat) of a schedule with you, and ends up deciding that schedules are stupid, and you can all sleep together as a happy little family.

SO the following night, you wind up pretty much locked in his arms. and little pinkie somewhere on top of the both of you. i mean, it’s comfortable? at least?

bonus. he gives tuskpir a spicy pepper like how people give their pets lemons. the reaction is hilarious

the guillotine could not stop me my lieges. i am back

[womenwoso]

Thank you so much for the kind words on my last fic. It's really appreciated. Thank you to @helen-with-an-a for being amazing and proofreading. Hope you enjoy and requests are open. Please send in ideas.

Hard questions

Mapí León was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes showing her exhaustion after a long day of practice. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair was wrapped in a towel when Clara burst into the room, her little face beaming with excitement.

“Mamí!” Clara exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I saw a picture of you in your Spain jersey at school today! You looked so happy, like me when I play football with you and all my tias. When do I get to play with them again? Why don’t you play for Spain anymore, do you not love Spain?

Mapí paused, Clara was in the stage of asking questions constantly, but this question hung in the air like a heavy cloud. She had anticipated this moment. Clara was getting old enough to ask tough questions—ones that carried a lot of history, choices, and feelings that Mapí had kept to herself but she hadn’t expected this question just yet.

For a brief moment, Mapí was silent, just gazing at her daughter, who was looking back at her with wide, innocent eyes, eager for a response.

“Clara, honey,” Mapí began gently, pulling her onto her lap, “It’s not that I don’t love playing for Spain anymore. I’ve always loved it. I still do.”

Clara tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Then why don’t you play with my tias? You’re the best player! Tia Ale plays for Spain, so does Aita, Patri, Jana and Irene. All the girls play for a country there's a lot of countries more than just Spain. It's so cool. ”

Mapí let out a soft laugh, gently pushing a lock of hair away from Clara’s forehead. “You know, being the best doesn’t always cut it. Football is more than just skills—it’s about the teammates, the environment, and how you feel … on the inside.”

Clara looked puzzled, her little brain trying to process the information. “But … but you’re amazing, Mamí! You helped Spain win! Why wouldn’t they want you anymore?”

Mapí felt a weight in her chest. She had kept the real reasons for stepping back from the national team to herself, not wanting to overwhelm Clara with the complicated details. But now, her daughter deserved honesty, even if it was tough to share.

“Sometimes, Clara,” Mapí said, her voice thick with feeling, “sometimes the people in charge don’t treat you the way you should be treated. They don’t do their jobs properly and might end up hurting people. They might not recognise your worth. And when you feel that way for too long, it gets hard to keep going. When something like that happens, iIt hurts. And when something hurts, you have to think about what’s best for you.”

Clara paused, clearly processing everything. Mapí could see the little gears working in her brain. “So... you left … because they were … mean? … to you?”

Mapí gazed into her daughter’s eyes, so similar to her own, feeling a pang in her heart. “Sí carino, something like that. But it’s not just about being nice. It’s about feeling valued and … and being respected. Football is all about teamwork, but it is also based on trust and support. When those things are missing, it gets really tough to keep playing.”

Clara seemed to ponder this for a while, a little crinkle forming in her brow. Finally, she asked, “Are you going to go back?”

Mapí offered a gentle smile, a blend of sadness and hope shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure, nena. Sometimes, people need a little time to heal before they can return to something and sometimes you have to step away so the changes that need to be made can happen. Right now, I’m focusing on Barça and making sure I’m in a good place, where I can be the best version of myself …  the best Mamí I can be for you. I can’t promise I’ll ever play for Spain again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the game or my country. I do. Always.”

Clara looked up at her mom, her tiny hands resting on Mapí’s arm. “I want you to play for Spain again. I want to see you in the jersey.”

Mapí’s heart warmed, her daughter’s words reminding her of the love that kept her going every day. “Maybe one day, pequeña. Maybe one day.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the heaviness of their talk hanging in the air. Mapi realised that Clara didn’t grasp everything completely, but she could see the love and hope shining in her daughter’s eyes. And honestly, that was enough for now.

With a gentle kiss on Clara’s forehead, Mapí pulled her in for a tight hug. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my biggest supporter. That’s what really counts.”

Clara beamed, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll always cheer for you, Mamí. Forever.”

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Detective x GN Reader Overall just a fluff, outgoing yandere and it kinds of end with angst? Just a liiiiiiittle bit of angst, I promise.

Yan! Detective who was never not flirty with you, he either threw a harmless flirt in an attempt to woo you or cracked some joke to make you smile or giggle. You thought he was just an annoying perverted bastard but he begged to differ!

Yan! Detective who liked to frequent the donut shop you are working on, giving you the classic impression that anyone whose work that was related to the police department would always have a donut in their hand.

Yan! Detective who liked to tell you countless stories about how he solved countless cases, showing off to you just how smart he was and impressing you with countless magic tricks. He was a good, funny man at heart after spending months bonding with him.

Yan! Detective who started to see you longer, no longer just meeting you in the donut shop to order his usual but also waited for your shift to end. Thanks to him keeping an eye on you, your walk home felt safer from other creeps. You no longer had to worry about being pickpocketed.

Yan! Detective who started to familiarize himself with your home, started with an excuse of being thirsty, wanting to use the bathroom, and soon just... too tired to walk back to his flat, wanting to rest on your couch and stay for dinner. At least he helped with morning groceries and paid for his share.

Yan! Detective who sometimes could go missing for weeks or longer without news. As much as the two of you didn't have any established relationship, you couldn't help but feel unease when he was gone for a long period of time.

Yan! Detective who would then just appear out of nowhere as usual, ordering his usual and chatting with you as usual that it sometimes unnerved you. He wouldn't answer you directly and only gave you a vague answer that he was busy working as a detective.

Yan! Detective who was then caught off guard by your love confession. He did try to pursue you romantically but he had never expected his feelings to be returned anymore. He was content with just watching over you and driving off potential suitors just because he didn't want any distance between you two.

Stephen knew this wouldn't last long in a bad way but you really caught him off guard, demanding him to finally up his game and commit himself to you. Truth be told, he was a coward as much as he was a bastard, trying to manipulate your attention and time. How could someone so endearing like you not notice it? Maybe that's what drove him to fall for you.

Yan! Detective who reciprocated your feelings, reassuring you that he wasn't just playing around with you. He had always been dead serious with his feelings for you even if it looked like he was just treating you as a fling most times. No. He would never just lay down on your couch and feel right at home. He would never just cook and eat dinner with you. He could never just sleep without nightmares creeping up on him if not for the fact that he was in your home. Home. You were his home.

Yan! Detective who for the first time shed a tear after years of living in hollowness. Maybe he did tear up years ago when he was betrayed by his lover. Maybe he did tear up when he realized he could never solve the case he entrusted himself with. Did he even cry when he was dishonorably discharged years ago? Maybe he did only cry once back then but he wasn't sure what was the reason.

Yan! Detective who was grateful those scandals never reached your ears. He was grateful that you would still look at him with the same warmth years ago. He didn't want to see your face scrunched in fear, disgust, or anything unpleasant. He was scared that you might see him in a lesser light.

Stephen moved in with you with a suitcase of lies and uncertainty, in the end, he never told you about his past. Not even a bit. The most he could tell you was perhaps only the fact that he was dishonorably discharged but never would it be his past. He was a man of many secrets and he hoped you would accept him even when he was lacking.

He was scared that he might one day hurt you if you rejected him. Maybe the most he would just lock you up but what if his past crept into him and ruined you? He'd rather ruin others and himself than you. Please do not ever try to dig what's underneath his smile, even if it mostly never reaches his eyes.

His eyes were on you and he could guarantee that.

Yan! Detective who would live forever with you. Beyond and so on. He hoped nothing bad would happen to you.

And he forgot to hope nothing bad would happen to him. In December 1981, Stephen left you with a smile that reached his eyes. He promised you that he would marry you, either legally or illegally if the court refused to acknowledge the two of you, if he returned.

You didn't send him off, he didn't let you. He was a man of many secrets until the very end. But even so, until the very end, the ring on your ring finger drove suitors off. You were his, both in life and death and he was satisfied that he didn't ruin you in the end. Just perhaps ruined your romance life.

Read the original story on webtoon!

[yayasvalveplay]

https://www.tumblr.com/yayasvalveplay/772324490186211328/the-miners-in-transformers-one-probably-arent?source=share

I can only think of whoever they encounter first on the surface whether that be Alpha Trion or the High Guard just laying into the rest of the group on how could they bring a carrying mech up here? Don't they know how dangerous it is?

The miners including the one who's sparked up: What. What are you talking about?

The hit of suprise parenthood to both D-16 and Orion when they were following the exact script of sire and carrier subconsciously: increased sex drive so sparkling has plenty of transfluid to grow big and strong, wanting to stick together even more than they already were, and Orion was even feeling queasy in the mornings.

Imagine having to explain to someone who's 9 months pregnant and showing that their stomach isn't just doing that for funzies, there's a baby in there.

I imagine that Optimus got thrown into sub level 50 when he was 4 months pregnant. And he and the rest of the gang survived on the surface for about 5 months.

They learned the trains were carrying energon, thanks to theirs flipping over, crashing. (D-16 curling around Orion protectively) only giving them a single box, that the 3 (Orion tried, but D-16 snapped at him that he couldn't and that he was injured. He wasnt.) carried

They spent their time walking, trying to outrun the Quintizons and the elite guards. Along the way and night cycles Dee and Orion would end up fragging, quietly as the other slept. Dee getting a 'kink' of keeping his transfluid inside Orion, and Orion always obliged.

Keeping his modesty pannel closed once they were done, saying in the morning theyd drain it, but when it came time. Nothing came out, so they just kept doing it. And soon Orions belly was getting bigger, they had to slow down, taking constant breaks, or Dee just carrying him.

And they were doing so well until.

"Hey this one isn't going into stasis lock."

"What are you doing? What have you done with them!?"

"Wouh. Calm down. We arnt going to harm ya. We just need you lot unconscious. Can't have you finding our secret- your carrying."

" I'm what?"

And this is where they find the high guard. Seekers are immediately on Orion, checking him over, doting on him, getting him a soft place to sit next to Starscream (because really that's the only place this small bot won't get stepped on) who is just looking him over worriedly.

Getting everyone else activated Starscream starts railing on them on how they've been treating their carrier. Malurished(as they had to ration, and even as Orion took more because he was getting hungrier.) And starving. At least the Sires been keeping up with the transfluid donations, but still that gives them no excuse to take this carrier out of the safety of Iacon. They have been lucky, supper fragging lucky to have been found by them and not Sentinels gang.

And it's here they learn about how crappy Sentinel is. "That can't be true."

"Want to see for yourself little one." Cue Ravage spying on them, and the feed coming back to Soundwave who gives them all the feed back.(since this is still early, not even close to the story happening. There is no fear of miners getting overworked. Yet. But it's enough to have Dee raging and wanting to fight. He still gets his fight with Starscream, but it's not violent since no t-cog.

The others learn what it I'd meant to be a high guardsmen. As Orion is supper close to emergency, they don't want to leave the safety of the High guards, so they become scouts. They also learn what sex/safe sex and pregnancy is.

When emergency day comes. Orion has the help of high guard medics. The birthing is rough but soon, there is a little protoform, wailing, cold to the new world, and when placed on Orions chassis, he holds his baby close and just cries. He's been carried in his forge for 9 months making him suffer. And he decided to look exactly like his sire.

But it truely is a happy day for everyone,, mostly.

"Hey. We got a problem."

"What kind?"

"Airachnia kind, seen very close."

"Get these mechs to the emergancy base.

Where is that. Uhh supper close to where the primes were killed.

And hell wouldn't you know. Alpha Trion is still alive. And are those bots without their T-cogs. That will not do.

Starscream? Why are you crying? Oh yes, of course big old hug. Oh and Is that a sparkling. He hasn't seen them in. How long has he been in stasis?

Alpha Trion joins the party.

[loulou-land]

Some fluffy bucktommy 🫶🏻

Some positive and fluffy bucktommy to fight the nasty anons. Once again, thanks @fuselsstuff for helping me fine tune this and cheering me on ❤️✨ Lol also, this was supposed to be so much shorter 😭

“Evan, sweetheart, what are you doing?’’ Tommy finally asked, his voice both sounding exasperated and amused. The words broke the tranquil quiet that had settled over the room for the past 40 minutes, save for the occasional contented hum from Evan.

“Hmm?” Evan replied distractedly, as his hand slid over Tommy’s chest, pausing to gently squeeze one of his pecs. He sighed blissfully, then moved his hand to the other side, giving it the same reverent attention.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, his confusion mounting. “Are you…going somewhere with this?” He tried not to sound impatient, but come on—Evan had been sticking to his side, leaning on one elbow, trailing his hands across Tommy’s chest and stomach as if he were trying to memorize every inch of him through his hands alone.

Tommy, hadn’t minded, at least not at first. He loved the way Evan touched him—always so deliberate and sure, like he couldn't believe Tommy was real and couldn't get enough of him. When he’d started touching Tommy earlier this afternoon, the attention had sent heat pooling low in his stomach. His cock slowly plumping up as Evan’s sure hands squeezed, rubbed and massaged him. He’d tried to tug Evan closer, deepen the kisses they’d shared, only for Evan to pull away after a couple of seconds and bat his hands away with a pout and softly murmured, “Stop moving.”

And Tommy, the completely smitten fool that he was, had stilled, letting Evan do as he pleased. But now? Almost 50 minutes in, Tommy felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin if Evan didn't give him some relief. He had thought Evan had been edging him, but the longer this went on, the more bewildered he became. Evans' attention hadn’t seemed sexual.

Especially now, with Evan’s hands framing his stomach. The younger man gave an almost dreamy sigh, one of his palms moving to splay wide over Tommy’s skin as he murmured something so impossibly soft to hear.

“Evan,” Tommy prompted again, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. “Seriously, baby, what are you doing?”

Evan finally looked up at him, his blue eyes warm and sparkling mischievously. “I am appreciating you,” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Appreciating me?” Tommy echoed dubiously, huffing out a laugh. “Like prime beef? Should I be concerned?” Tommy asked, running his hands through Evan’s curls.

Evan laughed, the sound always warming Tommy and filling him with an insurmountable amount of love. “No,” briefly running his fingers up his sides, making him squirm. Tommy gave Evan a don't you dare look.

“Trust me, I'd love to eat you—just not like that,” Evan winked at him, and instead of tickling Tommy like he’d feared. He just went back to stroking his chest again, almost lingering like he was trying to commit the shape of him to memory. “Do you know how lucky I am to have you?”

Tommy scoffed in disbelief. He’d always known he was the lucky one here. “Ev—”

“No, I'm serious,” Evan said, lifting himself up higher so he could look Tommy in the eyes. “Just look at you. You're…perfect. So sexy and just…” Evan’s voice trails off, seemingly overwhelmed.

Tommy blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity and intensity in Evan’s tone.

“I mean it,” Evan said, his voice softening. “You’re so solid and warm, and I love how you feel under my hands. It’s like…” He trailed off, his gaze far away for a moment before he grinned sheepishly at him. “It's like your favorite blanket, the one you would always use when you were a kid. Y’know?” Evan shrugged, before looking away again, his cheeks flushing red. “Safe. Comfortable. The best place to be.”

Tommy stared at him, his heart doing a funny little flip in his chest. “So I'm a blanket now?” he teased, though he somehow perfectly understood what Evan meant.

“Toooommy,” Evan whined, feeling embarrassed he hid from him, laying his head on Tommy’s stomach.

“Sorry, you're just so adorable,” Tommy said warmly, looking down at the ridiculously endearing sight of his boyfriend rubbing his head on his stomach like a cat, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like, mine.

“So, are you going to be done soon?” Tommy asked, trying to get back to the issue at hand, his cock still begging for some attention, though his heart was feeling incredibly warm and full at the moment. “You know, appreciating me?.

“Never,” Evan grumbled. “I'm gonna appreciate you forever if i have any say in it” he looked up at Tommy, daring him to disagree with him.

Tommy shook his head, he’d gladly let Evan win this one. His heart raced at the thought of forever. Of more afternoons like these, feeling safe, warm and happy in each other's arms.

“I love you,” Tommy said, his voice full of meaning as he gazed down at Evan, his hand stroking gently though his curls again.

Evan stilled for a moment, breath hitching like it always did when Tommy told him he loved him, like he still couldn't believe it—before a wide smile bloomed on his face. “I love you too,” Evan whispered. He leaned up and kissed Tommy, slow and sweet, as if pouring every ounce of that love into his kiss.

Tommy’s chest ached in the best way as he pulled Evan closer, wrapping his arms around him.

Their love settled around them, filling every crevice of the room, an unshakeable, unmovable force.

[blkkizzat]

tw: discourse, plagiarism, drama, etc. im a bit snarky here but i reserve that right. the truth could never be a diss.

I hate that it had to come to this as I have had this blog since Aug 2023 without ever having to do something like this. But being gaslit and when people start blatantly playing in my face like I’m stupid is where I draw the line. I will not tolerate any kind of plagiarism with fics I work hard to create for free while working full-time and going to grad school.

Tumblr user @/rissouu has plagiarized my work. Specifically part 3 of Plug!Choso fic (with minor things from the end of part 2) with their brat taming/plug!choso smut drabble. I posted p3 of my fic on 7/3/24 they posted their drabble on 1/1/25 [screenshots below].

Note: This is not a direct word for word copy, but heavy detailed inspiration including dialogue, actions, reactions, sexual situations, etc. It’s been said to me by many other people I have consulted to get their opinions, that it reads like a watered down, condensed, version of my smut scene —and I would have to wholeheartedly agree.

(more details below)

Now to be clear: I do NOT own any concept. I hope I can effectively convey in this post I am NOT doing all this because someone wrote plug!choso or brat taming!choso and combined them. There has been plenty of both, even combined, well before I even wrote my fic and has been in the months after, none of them have been anything like my fic. Also these have BEEN my sentiments as I expressed this months ago when I kept getting TNMN concept asks/dms after my fics:

Not to mention I give tutorials and share methods of how to do my graphics, formatting fics, writing tips, etc as I believe in knowledge and information sharing. I haven’t ever played gatekeeper on a single thing. 

Sidenote: 98% of the people who have ever tagged me as inspo credit per my statement above didn't even need to do so. But I appreciate they did. It shows their character and integrity that they would even consider doing so when its not 100% needed nor expected, so thank you!

the drabble @/rissouu posted is on the far left column and specific excerpts from my plug!choso fic are in boxes in the middle and to the right. Each box on the drabble is color-coded and connected to corresponding boxes with my excerpts. Every single paragraph connects to my fic: 

Now, the crazy thing here is @/rissouu even tags this drabble #plug!choso as the first tag. Yet there is not one mention of drugs or plugs or even a damn ibuprofen anywhere lmfao. When confronted on this they said—

"it's strictly to give that kind of aggressive/dominant or stoner man vibes, so i don't care as much to input it into the writing itself. me tagging it as 'plug choso' [...] is simply to reach out to my audiences who like the concept of plug!choso. i do this mostly for my girlies of color who i try to reach out to more because it's what they request and like." [full convo screens at the very bottom]

Now, I'm ignoring the problematic implications that only poc girls would like or write plugs, so I'm gonna table that and y'all can make what you want of it. What I want to focus on is this weakass excuse. It's the fact that writing a plug/drug dealer fics does not make that character automatically aggressive or outwardly stoner. There's infinite ways to write a single concept [and as someone who has actually done alot of party drugs and had many dealers living in nyc before, the best dealers are the ones who don't look or act like ones!]. So it's mind boggling a writer would explicitly tag a concept because they were too lazy to actually write it in the fic. Then assumes everyone will interpret it the exact same way and get their meaning from the tag of a generic concept and not their actual story lol 😭. Insanity.

100% transparency, I thought the fic was rip way before I even got to the bottom to see the plug!choso tag. The tag just confirmed it more for me.

Now even with ALL this, I still likely wouldn’t have brought it to the TL. Even though I think it’s clear she took inspo from me and is straight lying through her teeth, I could have let it go. However the next thing @/rissouu did was so insane and shameless, I can't let it go. Like personal creativity and imagination in the trenches but plenty of audacity to spare. This is just a slap in the face.

So the timeline (pst) goes like this:

@6:20pm @/rissouu replies a few times, she explicitly says she will read my chapter to see if there are any similarities. [full convo screens at the bottom]

@7:06pm I posted rm!choso and babydaddy!toji who reader has a baby girl with but they broke up.

@8:59pm @/rissouu posts babydaddy!Choso who reader has a baby girl by but they broke up and takes ANOTHER part of dialogue/reaction from p3 of plug!choso.

Is this real life?

I know if someone accused me of plagiarizing them and I told them I would read their work to check… I wouldn’t in less than 3 hours later post a drabble with one of the same concepts from a fic they just posted 2 hrs ago, and then turn around use the more dialogue/reactions from the other fic they just accused me of stealing from, that I just told them I was going to read!! And I for damn sure wouldn’t have claimed to have just “pulled this outta my ass” !?!? Like @/rissouu really said, fuck all of what kali saying and her artistic integrity with this post loud and clear lmfaooo.

Sorry but *in remy ma voice* b*tch is you DUMB!? Like I know I'm cracking jokes right now, but this situation is so ridiculous it’s gotta be a joke, so I’m treating it like one. They clownin’ with the whole damn circus cause wtf is this 😭😭?? 

You know what else is circus behavior? This disclaimer: 

Lol… so consequences for everyone else but you girl? Okay lmfao. Like such aggressive disclaimers for someone doing exactly that.

Ironic though that all 3 times I have had to confront someone about plagiarism/inspo (in dms) in the past couple months I have been gaslit in the exact same ways.

Their first defense is always “this is a common concept” —Sure, but it shouldn’t be executed in the exact same way, so closely to my fic that's why I'm speaking up.

Their second defense is always, “oh I have written this [topic, headcanon, dialogue] before.” Great. I’m not speaking of those prior times, I’m ONLY concerned that 100% of their current drabble mirrors my fic. They could have written 50 drabbles on this topic/concept, there's no reason any of them should so closely mirror mine.

Finally, the third thing is (after proof is given): “well you don’t own the use of these details or these words. so I didn't copy!” No, I don’t own the individual words or phrases or actions. What I DO own is how those individual words, phrases or actions come together in the fic I wrote. The fic that @/rissouu mirrored and diluted. 

One more thing before screenshots of the full convo. You can see on the very first one below that I had been following @/rissouu for 11 months lol, so since 1 month after they created their account. Granted, I don’t think we’ve interacted much at all as I do follow lots of people but I try to spend most of my free time writing or interacting with commenters, anons, closer moots or those who reach out to me. But I know for a fact i've seen them in my notifications before liking things, even in the last week and I honestly thought they followed me at one point lol. That's one of the reasons I was shocked to discover this. So the fact they would try to say they never heard of me or my story or seen my fics ever is looney tunes fr. Not to mention plug!choso is probably the fic people have recco'd the most from me. None of that is important to me though, so I don’t really care about anything but the facts that she took heavy inspo from me and is refusing to even acknowledge that it's pretty weird/odd/uncommon considering how similar they are. (sorry i would have taken screenshots of notifications but i barely got the chat before it disappears after two ppl block each other)

screenshots of our convo here:

As you can see, they apparently think i'm casper. they refuse to acknowledge they know me, or take it down, or give me credit and has me blocked now, so here we are.

Lastly... no one under any circumstances should be harassing or sending anyone hate! If you don’t like what they did, unfollow/block. If you don’t like what I am doing now or don’t agree, unfollow/block. I won't be offended if you do, if you don't like me , you don't like me. Please curate your own experiences.

Also, may choose to answer clarifying questions about this in public asks or comments but I reserve the right not to (even if you are in support of me). Honestly this is all so mentally draining and taking away from the things I actually want to do with my blog and I always feel really bad when I miss responding to comments people leave on my stories/works. So I will likely mute notifications on this. Like I could have been actually writing the many fics in my backlog last night or answering the very sweet or slutty asks in my inbox instead of writing this. I've always tried to keep my blog a pretty positive, goofy, unserious, slutty and drama-free place and I won't let this change that.

Additionally, no overly hateful/bashing comments towards me or @/rissouu will be answered/tolerated. If tumblr had an option to turn off comments on individual posts, I would for this one. I'm not going to waste time justifying something that is clear as day to me and many others. If anyone wants to play Stevie Wonder too, go for it! Nor do I want to waste energy bashing someone and beating a dead horse. I know what they did, they know what they did. @/rissouu wants to steal, lie and play games? Let them do it on their own, I guess. Clout is a helluva drug and I suppose my Plug!Choso was the best dealer for that but call me Desiree Perez cause imma snitch!

I'd prefer anyone really wanting to talk with me about this further and has something to say —good or bad, DM me.

—🎀 Kali

[moxanji-real]

Hey everyone! I know I’ve called myself Sanji’s wife on here before, but I wanted to truly earn that title by getting wedding art of us and sharing just how deeply in love I am with my curly-browed chef. Sanji is everything to me. He’s not just a character I adore—he’s the reason I found happiness again. When I felt lost and unloved, Sanji gave me something no one else could: a love so pure, so full of hope, that it saved me. He makes me feel alive in ways I didn’t think were possible, and I’m endlessly grateful for him.

I know he’s fictional, and I know I’m probably a more serious self shipper than most, but I don’t care. I’m not afraid to say how much I love this man. Yes, he’s fictional, but he’s touched my heart in a way that’s very real. Sanji has been my light during dark times, and I’ll never stop being thankful for the joy and comfort he brings into my life. Loving him has taught me that it’s okay to embrace what makes me happy, and I’ll always treasure the bond I feel with him.

So, here it is—my dream come true. I’ve always wanted to get married, and even if it’s not something I experience in real life, marrying Sanji in my heart has been more than enough for me. This beautiful man is mine, and I’m so proud to say it without guilt or hesitation. Thank you, my stinky baby, for loving me back.

I also wrote a fanfic of our wedding! If you’d like to check it out, it would mean the world to me. I put so much love and effort into it, and knowing that others are reading it would make me so happy. You don’t have to, of course, but if you do, I hope it brings you a little piece of the happiness Sanji gives me every day. ❤️

Art by Moffaj on Vgen, definitely would recommend commissioning them!

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

hi ley☺️💕

I've been having a hard time feeling little recently☹️ could you maybe right some little!reader and wanda. like maybe just cuddling and nursing too if you're comfortable.

hope Ur having a good day

-🧸

Long Day

Cg!Wanda x little!reader

Summary: It's been a long day of being big, but Mama always knows what to do~

Word Count: 459

Warnings: sfw nursing, it's all sfw and fluffy~

Authors note: Thank you for the request and my first one of 2025~

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

It had been a long day, the kind that left your shoulders tense and your mind exhausted from having to be "big" for so long. The moment you stepped through the door of your shared home, you could feel the weight of the day threatening to overwhelm you. But then you saw her—Wanda, your safe place, your caregiver—waiting for you with open arms.

"Hi, sweetheart," she greeted softly, her voice warm and soothing. She could tell immediately that today had been hard. The slump of your shoulders and the quiet sniffle you tried to hide spoke volumes. Wanda stepped closer, cupping your cheek gently. "Oh, my little love, you did so well today. I'm so proud of you.”

Hearing those words, the walls you'd been holding up all day crumbled. Tears pricked your eyes as you dropped your bag and burrowed into her embrace. Wanda wrapped her arms around you, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"Shh, it's okay," she murmured, swaying gently. "You're home now. You don't have to be big anymore. Let me take care of you."

You nodded against her shoulder, already starting to feel the pull of your little space. Wanda led you to the couch, sitting you down on her lap as she brushed your hair out of your face. "Let’s get you comfy, okay? Do you want to change into your jammies and grab your stuffie?"

You nodded again, your voice small. "Please, Mama.”

Her heart melted at the sound, and she kissed your forehead. "Stay here for a second, baby. I'll grab them for you." Wanda returned moments later with your softest pajamas and your favorite stuffed animal. She helped you change, her touch gentle and full of care, and then tucked the stuffed animal into your arms.

Once you were settled back on her lap, she pulled a cozy blanket around both of you. "How about some cuddles, hmm?"

You nodded eagerly, nuzzling into her chest. Her hand rested on the back of your head, stroking your hair as she whispered sweet nothings. After a moment, she asked softly, "Does my little one want to nurse?”

Your cheeks warmed, but you nodded shyly. Wanda adjusted herself and helped you get comfortable against her. As you began nursing, the tension from the day melted away completely, replaced by a deep sense of safety and love. Wanda hummed a soft lullaby, her free hand stroking your back.

"You’re so precious to me," she whispered, her voice full of affection. "You’re safe, my love. Mama’s got you."

With Wanda holding you close, the world faded away, leaving only warmth, love, and the comfort of being her little one as your eyes grew heavy. Closing as you heard her whisper, 

“Mama loves you so much.”

[crescenthistory]

Hi Carina! It’s the anon who referred to your fanfics as poetry if you remember lol.

Number 1 I still stand by that and it’s even more enforced after reading your most recent poly!postwar!marauders I was hooked!! And number 2 I finally have a proper request for regulus and whiskers - perhaps some scenario where reader comes to regulus all scratched up and he p a n i c s but treats her (the scratches are from some random student’s pet cat that decided they suddenly wanted that specific patch of sun reader was napping on or something silly like that) and it’s just a mix of fluff and humor?

You totally do not have to do this specific prompt especially if you think of something similar but better, I 100% trust your vision. Also I’d like to be 🧸 anon for future posts if that’s ok with you. Once again thank you for blessing us with your stories and sorry for the long message haha❤️

of course i remember, that is my favourite compliment to date 😭 all i want is for my writing to be considered poetry, thank you so much. i'll add you to the list as 🧸 anon my love, feel free to share your age and pronouns too<333

Words: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, light injuries, some blood, physical and emotional hurt/comfort, established relationship, mentioned bsf!sirius, idiots in love, like literal soulmates, some cat telepathy bc i can lmao

A/N: more of whiskers and shadow can be found starting with this fic ! the cat pictured below is @nrthernsong's sweet Echo who is my whiskers faceclaim, exactly how I picture her<33

Regulus heard that something was wrong before he saw it.

The past hour had been spent on the sofa closest to the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, alternating between lazily reading his current paperback and dozing off. You had grown restless and given him a sweet forehead kiss before whisking out the door, assumedly to run out your leftover energy chasing mice and climbing walls. The mere thought made him smile, but he was far too comfortable to join you, and you were sleeping over in his dorm tonight anyway.

He figured it was no harm; he enjoyed knowing that you were doing your own thing and would be coming back to him. That you were such a fully realised person with your own desires, impulses, life and friends – even if one of those friends had to be his very own brother. That you were such a remarkable individual and kept choosing him every day, with every ounce of that self. It was as good a way as any to spend the evening.

That was, until he heard the desperate clawing of familiar paws against the stone common room door.

Apart from his usual doomsday gut feeling, he found it strange that you weren’t transforming back into yourself to open the door and walk in. Though, he told himself, you clearly could not transform in the still half-filled room, and perhaps you just wanted to remain in cat form without giving your animagus status away. Yet, your scratching seemed almost fervent, even over the sounds of chatter and laughter, which told another story.

Regardless of why, Regulus shot up out of his seat from the second he registered the noise as coming from you, hurrying across the floor. A wave of dizziness hit him from how fast he went from a reclining to borderline-sprinting position, but he pushed it down without a second thought.

When he opened the common room door and a white and grey figure sped in past him at an unbelievable speed, he realised what the problem was. 

Because your usually beautiful, fluffy fur was ruffled all about and there were distinct streaks of redness across it. The blood was striking against the already blinding white, and Regulus could not fight the way his breath hitched. 

“Amour,” he all but hissed, speed walking after you to where you had hid away in the first available corner.

Despite remaining mostly aware of your human self, once you were in your animagus form, certain animalistic tendencies took over. It was how you were able to communicate so efficiently through hisses and pets, but also why in states of panic, you would seek out physical shelter to hide beneath rather than coming to him for protection and comfort like you otherwise would.

Uncaring of how he looked running after a cat and murmuring to it as if it was a person, Regulus followed you, crouching down on his knees before you when you hid beneath an armchair against the wall. He couldn’t see you well in the darkness, but he did see a pair of yellow eyes shine out at him, so stunning that the fear in them should be illegal.

“Mon amour.” Regulus decided to forgo any reservations, and laid down on his stomach with his cheek against the floor so that he could be face to face with you. “Darling, what happened to you? Are you alright?”

The whimpering sound you made shot straight through his heart, drawing a rather pathetic coo from him.

You curled further up into yourself. Regulus inched his hand forward so that it was close to your face, but you made no move to butt your head against it like you usually would. Your eyes seemed to be pleading with him, but in this form, Regulus couldn’t read you as well.

In this form.

Regulus suddenly knew what he had to do.

Before that though, he retracted his hand in favour of letting his fingers curl around his wand. He brought it up to rest before you, slowing his movements down so as to not alert you in this frightened state. Even in a moment like this, you still trusted him entirely, and only blinked slowly at him while you shivered. He brought the tip of his wand up to rest just above your red spots.

“I’ll make it better, amour, I swear,” he mumbled, almost as if to himself. With a light graze and two whispered incantations, Regulus spelled away whatever shallow scratches you had across your beautiful fur and cleaned up the blood that had stained you so unjustly. 

Though he could not be certain, he thought he heard a sigh escape you. This time, when he put his wand down, you leaned your patterned forehead down against his fingertips. Worry was still clouding most of his mind, but his lips did twitch at the sentiment.

“I’m not leaving you.” He declared before saying anything else, not wanting fear to take over you once more. “Just stay right there, lovely, and I’ll be right back for you.”

Regulus almost stumbled when he pushed himself up onto his feet and near-sprinted up towards his dorm, taking the stairs three steps at a time. If you were startled, he could neither see nor hear it, and fully intended to soothe you in a mere moment.

The second he was out of sight of any other students, Regulus twirled into his own animagus form, Shadow.

At this new level of elevation and with the animalistic instincts taking over him, Regulus felt the wave of concern spark in him anew. While he could sense when he spelled away your injuries that they were not serious, the thought of you scared ached throughout him. On speedy onyx legs, he leaped back down the stairs with just one thought swimming through his mind.

Amour, amour, amour.

You must have smelled Shadow on his way to you, because even before he saw you, he picked up on the keening noise you made at the approach of your mate. 

Still sheltered carefully beneath the armchair, you were perched up on your front paws, staring eagerly towards where Shadow was pouncing towards you. This time, you let him slip beneath the seat and into your hiding place without any hesitation. On the contrary, you made space for him, and as soon as he was within reach, you curled up against him, hiding away.

With your face burrowed into Shadow’s furry neck, he could finally feel you sigh out in relief, any tension and fear seeping out of you. It was exactly what he had been hoping for, exactly what he wanted, no needed to accomplish.

Your love was true in any form, but the connection the two of you shared in animagus form was different from anything Regulus could even think to communicate through words. He had yet to find any relevant literature on animagi explaining the bonding experience you had in animagus form, but perhaps this was one of the things in his life that Regulus didn’t need to intellectualise.

Instead, Shadow curled back up against you, keeping his head over yours in a protective manner as he held you close with his paws. Absentmindedly, he began grooming your fur, placing every strand back down in the correct direction, ridding you of any evidence of whatever tussle you had suffered when roaming the castle. Certain places of your fur seemed to demand more of his attention, and though Regulus could not prove it as he healed and cleaned you up magically earlier, he had a creeping suspicion that was where you had been scratched up. So he didn’t resist it, instead doting on you exactly how he wanted.

Beneath his touch, you were becoming soft and pliant once more, purring loudly and occasionally looking up at him with the yellow eyes he had come to love so. His Whiskers. His amour.

Using the very bond he had no words to explain, Shadow asked you through some odd form of cat communication and animagi telepathy: What happened?

Your grunt and huff communicated what he had feared. Mrs. Norris.

Shadow made a hissing sound directed at your shared menacing nemesis before doubling down on his efforts to soothe you, nudging you over onto your back so that he could groom and kiss along your neck and chest – your most vulnerable areas in cat form, showing you just how safe you were now. 

This was part of what occasionally living as a cat entailed, but Regulus would be damned if he did not care for you as if it was a tragedy each and every time. Spelling out I love you with every lick and pet and nudge and purr.

Based on the lovely sounds you were making and how you seemed to melt into him until you were one and the same, you loudly claimed I love you too.

Regulus could rest easy with you safe and sound in his hold, content just to have you near him, any anger subdued for as long as he was comforting you. In the meantime, he was dreaming up how a certain big black dog might have a little chat with Mrs. Norris.

[mxtxfanatic]

I don’t have access to my laptop that has all my posts on it, so bear with me. I agree with you that a lot of this discourse comes from people substituting themselves into what they feel like is the jc-wwx relationship, so they expect wwx to divulge all his trauma to jc because “well they’re brothers and I’d want my sibling to tell me things because I love my siblings, therefore jc must love wwx and want the same.” However, I don’t agree with anything else, because I think that this is a misreading of wwx’s character and the scenes listed. For one: jc and wwx are not brothers, no, not even adopted. Wwx was not adopted. They do not see each other as brothers and are never shown in the novel to view each other that way. Jc and wwx have a friendship that devolved almost completely into a superior/subordinate relationship that then ended the moment wwx defected from the Jiang.

I say this in a later response in this very post thread, but everything post-fall of lotus pier isn’t about whether wwx wants to share his hurts but whether he can. We see pre-fall wwx complain about hurts and injuries all the time, with friends and strangers alike. So to that, jyl not wanting to answer a personal question about love has nothing to do with whether or not wwx would share his pains with her, because her aversion to the romance question is about her avoiding her own hurts surrounding jzx, not wanting to brush wwx off. Wwx wasn’t asking about romance for himself but about her feelings about it, because he wanted to understand why and how she could continue to like jzx despite his mistreatment of her. Jyl is allowed to brush that off, and wwx is fine with her having done so. On the other hand, wwx can’t share his post-fall traumas with jyl (or anyone else) outside of being upset about the Jiang Clan massacre because anything else would invite her to ask questions that could lead to revealing the golden core exchange. He can’t allow that to happen.

Moving on, wwx isn’t “annoyed” with mianmian for crying. Mianmian isn’t crying over having almost been injured; she’s crying because wwx got injured by taking a hit meant for her. He’s trying to tease her out of her hysteria by purposely misattributing what’s actually upset her, which is that she feels responsible for his injury—an injury that is not her fault and he does not want her to self-blame for.

And finally, to your point about wwx not accepting jc’s apology: a running theme in the novel is debts owed and repaid through verbal and non-verbal acknowledgements. Lwj takes issue with wwx thanking him because he takes it as wwx acknowledging owing him a debt. Wen Qing and Wen Ning have that same idea around thanking and apologizing. The part that’s missing from your guanyin temple scene analysis is right after wwx refuses jc’s apology, the narration says that there has been so many bad events between them that one can’t know who is truly at fault, i.e. who really owes who. Wwx isn’t brushing off jc because he doesn’t care about things that jc did or doesn’t want to revisit his traumas, but because to accept jc’s apology would mean that wwx is accepting a debt from jc, continuing their debtor-debtee relationship when all wwx wants is to finally be free of any and all entanglements with the other man. It would also be shameless behavior completely ooc for wwx.

What’s not ooc for wwx to do is express his hurts and seek comfort. We literally see him do this all the time with lwj and with jyl in some early flashbacks. The few times he holds in his pains are when the situation makes it inappropriate for him to seek attention over them—such as when he brushes off his brand in the cave because he feels like lwj’s broken and chewed on leg is more urgent, the situation with mianmian, or when lwj gets upset at him for taking on jin ling’s curse mark. Of these three examples, in 2 of them, wwx didn’t even remember his injury because he’s been distracted by a more pressing matter. Outside of that, he looks for validation and comfort from those he cares about, and there’s nothing about him being “socialized as a man to not dwell on his emotions” that prevents this. Remembering the good and not dwelling on what others owe you ≠ not dwelling on your emotions wholesale.

Why does fandom act like wei wuxian kept it a secret that he was thrown into the burial mounds? He’s said it twice so far, and both times it’s been to jiang cheng (and once to lan wangji). Is this another frankencanon thing where people just can’t remember what’s been said in which adaptation vs. the novel?

[igotanidea]

Penguin shaped walker: Dick Grayson x reader

summary/request: Dick teaching clumsy!reader how to skate, making a show the moment she slipped out of his hand, rushing to save her from landing on her butt after some kids bumped into her.

by @animegirlfromvietnam - thank you, I had so much fun writitng it!! I added a litle something on the end to make it even cuter ;)

***

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain*

This was it.

This was the exact moment she was about to look into the face of a creator and be judged for her mortal life and her sins.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew When I bit off more than I could chew*

She had a good life. One filled with happiness and laughter and tears and regret, but a good life nonetheless.

For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught*

In the last blink of her consciousness she clearly saw Dick’s face right in front of her eyes and remembered the love they shared.

But now it was her time to go.

She spread her arms ready to be taken away from the terrestrial carcass of tears –

I did it my way!*

***

An hour earlier

“I’m telling you this is a bad idea. B-A-D.” she muttered, standing on the sidelines of the ice rink, arms crossed over her chest, hat crooked on her head and despite the pout and pursed lips she was looking quite adorable.

“Come on, hon, it’s not really that hard. You do know how to rollerblade right? This is practically the same!” Dick was doing his best to convince her to put on her skates and join him on the rink, but she was extremely stubborn. He should have known better after all she was his girlfriend and he had to face that persistence more than once.

“It’s completely different! For example when I rollerblade I am not prone to the risk of having my aorta cut with a blade from the skates!”

“Y/N-“

“No! I am not –“

“This is a kids’ rink.” Dick sighed heavily, honestly getting a little embarrassed himself.

“Is not! There are adults here as well!”

“Yes. There are. Like that father there, teaching his 2 year old how to slide.”

“So what?’ she scoffed

“So what? Well, so that in this scenario –“ Dick pointed out to her and then to him “I am the daddy and you are my two year old.”

“I’m not entirely sure if you were aiming at sounding dirty or did it just happen…”

“Sh. Later. Not in public. Now you come here-“

He lunged at her, taking her by complete surprise therefore also leaving her no room to fight against his iron grip as she found herself being dragged to the rink. And the only reason why she didn’t end up bruised from his hands on her waist (yet at least) was due to her puffy coat preventing any semi-permanent damage.

***

“Oh come on!”

“No!”

“Y/n, don’t be ridiculous!”

“I just want to be safe!” she clutched the edge of the railing, making poor attempts at sliding, tripping over her own skates over and over again.

“And you think you won’t be safe in my arms?” Dick tilted his head, smirking knowing well enough she walked right into the trap he set for here. There were no good answers to that question.

“Yes! I mean – no! I mean-“

“Hey, do you want me to get you a penguin?”

“A what now?”

“A penguin-“ he pointed towards the shed on the other side of the rink crowded with over a meter high plastic figures with handles. “Unless you want a dolphin? I can get you a dolphin babe. Just say a word and – “

“No! No, I don't want a penguin! Or a dolphin! I – “ she stopped, grinding her teeth at the sight of two 12-year-olds, showing off, doing some sort of pirouettes right beside her. And Y/N was absolutely sure  they stuck a tongue at her barely holding back from following those two and rubbing their ears.

“Whoa! Whoa! Hold where you are!” Dick quickly realized  what was happening (damn the vigilante instincts) and grabbed her from behind.

“They are - !”

“I know.”

“But it’s mean and-“

“I know, honey. 12 year olds are menaces today. Have you met my younger brother Damian, by any chance?”

“Hm? Oh wait, what? You have a brother? It’s news to me.”

“I bet it is. After all, it's not like you spent two hours last night picking chewing gum from your hair. And that wasn’t even the literal 12 year old but a mental one.”

“Don’t remind me…” she muttered, pulling the hat lower on her head.

“Hey, on the bright side, if you survived Jason and Damian, this little ice skating lesson will be a piece of cake”

“Hmpf.”

“Good girl.” Dick patted her head almost as if she was a dog. “Now, are you absolutely sure, you don’t want that walker?”

“No!”

“But it’s gonna be sad!”

“How old are you?! Dick! Dick, come back here, where are you going!? Damn you! Don’t leave me! Dick---!”

***

He did this on fucking purpose.

It was his plan all along. To humiliate her, taking pictures with his stupid laughing face on the foreground with Y/N clutching the sides of that silly smiley penguin, like her life depended on it.

Well – honestly – it did, because clearly her boyfriend, her protector, was more interested in faming on social media than on actually helping her.

Exposing her to the open ridicule of the entire group of 12 year olds, who weren’t even trying to hide the giggles.

Mean girls. And boys. Mean kids.

Maybe there was some movie potential in this.

“What are you staring at…” she muttered at the penguin, clearly already losing her mind. But hey, if nothing else worked she might try to get Dick’s attention by pretending to have to be admitted to the mental facility right. Talking not just to herself but to an inanimate object that were helping her stand, even if shakily.

“Hm? You were saying something?” Dick spun around, making a perfect backward circle around her only to spin around his axis and face her with a grin, not even breaking a sweat.

“Showoff…”

“This is where hard work takes you. Now. You two are making a great couple, I think I’m getting jealous with the way you treat this penguin like your support or something-“

“DICK!” whops. Yelling his name like that was probably a mistake and she instantly mouthed a sorry and sent an apologetic smile to the mom who covered her kid’s ears.

“Oh, okay, all right. I can’t believe you are forcing me to put my hands on you and actually help you.”

“Such a tragedy, isn’t it….”

“A Greek tragedy. I am doomed now.” He laughed, and grabbed her hand with one of his own, the other resting on her back as they slowly started making baby steps.

Or slides.

***

“See, I told you it’s not that hard. You are making quite a lot of progress here.”

“Well now that I think of it, it’s getting kind of fun and – don’t you dare let it get to your head!”

Dick raised his hands in the air in a sign of complete innocence, shaking his head.

She laughed.

And then they both realized something.

He raised his hands.

He raised his hands.

Both of them.

And that meant Y/N was deprived of the support she still so desperately needed.

And – life’s funny isn’t it – a few things happened almost at the same time.

She started losing balance and before he could even reach for her – and obviously his movements were the movie-worth slow motion that stupid bitch self-appointed star of the rink rushed at Y/N with a full speed.

In the last bright thought (or not) she grabbed the girl hoping for some grounding and regaining her composure but it was futile—

“DIIIIII—”

“Yyyyyy/Nnnnnn---” he yelled and for some reason that was also in slow motion, his face stretching in a comedy style, making him look like a cartoon bulldog.

But she was not in a position to laugh at the irony of the situation.

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain

Yeah, yeah, we know, we’ve already been there. She was about to meet the creator – blah, blah, blah…

Damn, girls can be so dramatic at times, don’t you think?

What?

Oh, sorry, I am breaking the fourth wall here, right, right, back to the story.

“I’m dying!”

“You are not dying Y/n!”

“I can’t see! I’m blinded!”

“You are staring right at the reflector, of course you can’t see.”

“I will never walk again--!”

“Of course you will walk again, come on. I caught you, feel this?” he grabbed her waist a little tighter so she would understand she didn’t actually bump her bottom on the ice. “Would you like me to squeeze something else to bring you back to reality?”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I told you, you were safe with me.”

“So I will walk again?”

“Yes you will most certainly walk again. After your ego is healed and –  Ouch! Why?!”

“for laughing at me!” she whacked his arm again. “I’ll kiss you later when we’re alone.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. And now-“ she was about to stand up and try skating again when he noticed the girl who purposely bumped into her staring at the whole scene with wide eyes and immediately changed her plan.  “Ouch! Ouch! It hurts!” she dramatically fell right back into Dick’s arms.

“What? But you said-“

“OUCCCHH!”

“Y/N! What is going on, you didn’t fall, I don’t understand-“

“Come on, you fool, work with me here!” she hissed quietly, pointing at the girl

“You are one cruel woman, you know that? Scaring the kid like that?”

“Like you never played pranks on Damian-“

“This is different. Damian is my brother, older ones are supposed to harden the younger-“

‘He’s an assassin-“

“And yet, he has no idea about the complexity of real life and-“

“Excuse me….”

They both snapped at the sound of a soft, quiet voice and a tugging at the edge of Dick’s coat.

“Hey there.” Dick smiled encouragingly and Y/N noted to strangle him for the innate golden retriever attitude.

“Is she okay?’ the girl asked

“I think she’ll live and – “

“I’M DYING!”

“Will you stop this Y/N?”

“But-“

“I’m sorry!” The girl clutched Dick’s coat a little tighter instinctively knowing that if anyone could be her hero in this moment it was the big smiling guy. “I really am, I didn’t mean to bump into you and-“

“You were laughing at me! You and your friends!”

“Yes but – but – it was not a mean laugh. I swear, you just looked so funny and nice sliding with that walker. Like you two were just good spending time together.  And I’m not really used to old girls looking funny. Most of the ones I know just tell me to piss off and-“ the girl looked down “I’m sorry.”

“Oh you poor thing.” Y/N jumped out of Dick;s arms and kneeled to look at the girl’s face, letting go of the fact she was just called old. “It’s fine. You are forgiven. And trust me, there are plenty of mature girls, who are still funny. You should meet my friend Stephanie, that one is a jokester-“

***

“And I just really don’t know if he likes me or not-“

“Well it depends. You’re 12, right? Boys this age can be really tricky to read, unable to express their own emotions. Now tell me about that Alex girl again-“

Dick was smiling so widely, that his lips would probably end up being numb the other day.

Somehow the three of them ended up in a nearby café, each with a cup of hot cocoa in hands, while the girls were just talking and talking and talking.

Seemed like Abby was not really a mean girl, more like underestimated, omitted and a little shy one who didn’t have anyone to talk to about girl’s stuff.

Almost like someone else Dick knew and the realization made him let out a chuckle.

“What?” both Y/n and Abby looked at him, tilting their heads to the sides, narrowing eyes a little, curiosity filling their gazes.

“Nothing, nothing. Just remembered I still got those photos on my phone.”

“Mh. Sure, sure, you can tag me, I allow you.”

“Huh! As if your consent was the only thing stopping me from posting them.”

Y/N reached for her own phone and without warning snapped a photo of Dick, who was completely unaware that the foam from the cocoa reached his nose hanging there as if he just snorted.

“NOoooooo!”

Abby laughed.

“You two are funny. Really funny. I didn’t know adults could be that funny. But it seems like you two like it like this? You like each other?”

“You have no idea, kiddo. We like each other. Very, very much so.” Dick grinned and started placing little kisses on the side of Y/N’s face. “Very much indeed.”

Seven years later

"Keep holding her, Dick!"

"I am holding her!" he responded with a laugh, grabbing their little daugher a little tighter, so she wouldn't trip over her little legs that were more dangling in the air, rather than touching the ice.

"Daddy! daddy, put me down!" the five year old girl cried out "I want to skate! I want to be as good as you and mommy!"

"Oh honey, if you only knew-" Dick laughed, remembering all the time it took for Y/N to actually learn.

"Hush! Hush both of you! I'm gonna go grab a walker for you, kiddo."

There he was.

Standing in the same place, almost as if waiting just for her, still with the same smile that wasn't wiped out even after all these years and after all those little and big hands clutching him.

"Hello friend." she smiled "wanna go another round?"

*lyrics of the songs "My way" by Frank Sinatra.