#he helps leo manage his hair

[spankysparkles]

New Solangelo Oneshot, out now! This one-shot is a sequel to our other fic, Don't Accept Gifts from Hephaestus Kids, so check that out before you look at this one. Nico dreams of Leo then Leo shows up in his cabin. He wonders if that means anything. Read it from me on Wattpad here:

Read it from my co-author, emonemo on AO3 here:

[heartmix]

Kisses - CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: charles being jealous of Leo, kissing

A/N: wrote this after irritating my dog with a bunch of kisses. He loves it

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

Not one moment did Charles regret getting Leo. He was the best thing to happen to the both of you. The dog kept you both on your toes and gave a lot of love, balancing a mix between chaos and affection. He didn't know what life was before Leo. He couldn't have asked for a better dog. 

The only thing was, the dog was too damn spoiled. Sure he spoiled the dog just as much as you, buying him the best food, giving him any toy he wanted, and he had free reign around the house. But you gave Leo what he truly wanted, all your attention. From the moment you both got him, he was stuck to you like glue. He only wanted Charles if he was at the track or to take him to use the bathroom. It's like the dog knew how much of a hassle it was to clean up his mess so he left that for Charles to worry about. 

You took Leo everywhere you went and he enjoyed every second of it. You wanted to go to the cafe? Leo would love to go on a walk. You had to travel for work? Sure Leo always wanted to see Paris and chase the birds. You needed to use the bathroom? Who else was going to keep you company? He didn't see dad rush up to follow you so he had to be that person (dog) for you. 

In return, he was rewarded with a bunch of scratches and kisses. You couldn't help it. He was so dang cute and soft. Kissing his fur was like kissing clouds. Leo ate up those kisses every time. He stared at you each time waiting for you to press a kiss to his head. It didn't matter if you were wearing lip gloss he would happily stroll the house wearing the lip marks with pride. 

This irritated Charles, to say the least. He wasn't jealous of the dog for getting a million kisses in one sitting while he barely managed to get one. No, he wasn't jealous that your priority was to show attention to Leo first. No, he wasn't jealous that Leo could wake you up at any hour and be met with a smile, compared to if he did it, the action would be a pillow thrown at his head.  

"Why are you giving your dog a death glare?" The voice of Arthur broke Charles out of his thoughts. 

"I'm not glaring at Leo." He grumbled. 

"So you're glaring at your girl? That's new." There was a hint of teasing tone in Arthur's voice like he knew why his brother was being a grump. You were sat on the other side of hospitality with Leo in your arms. The dog was as hyper as ever while you laughed at his antics and gave him a kiss what seemed every minute to Charles. In reality, you gave him two kisses since you've sat down. 

"I'm not glaring at anyone." 

"Sure you aren't buddy." He patted his brother on the back before making his way over to you and Leo. Charles watched the interaction with a close eye. He knew his brother was up to something. Not a second later you looked over at Charles with a knowing smirk making the driver look anywhere but in your direction. 

What he didn't see was Arthur taking Leo for a walk while you made your way to sit on the arm of the chair Charles was sitting on. It was only when he felt you beside him he decided to look at you. That same smirk was still plastered on your face making him groan. 

"So, grumpy pants, you have me all to yourself till Arthur and Leo come back." You hummed reaching out to his hair to massage his scalp. His weakness. You were good. 

"I am not grumpy, I don't know what my idiot of a brother told you." It was taking everything in Charles not to confess right then and there. The way you were working your hands on his scalp, he wanted to give in any second. 

"You're not? Hmmh. I was going to kiss it better." The teasing tone in your voice didn't register with Charles. If he was truly paying attention he would know you were doing this to confess and it worked. 

"I am grumpy. Kiss it better." He smiled up at you like a little kid waiting for his reward, or more like Leo waiting for a kiss when he accompanied you to the bathroom to keep you company. 

"First you need to tell me why you're grumpy." 

Was he about to confess his jealousy for the dog he wanted and brought just for some kisses? If it was the only way to be smothered in kisses so be it. "You give more kisses to Leo than you do me." 

"Awee my baby, you're jealous!" 

"And so what! The dog gets a million kisses a day while I'm lucky to get two." He pouted at this which caused a hearty laugh to come out of you. If only his fans could see Charles now. 

"Have I been neglecting you?" 

"Big time." 

"Well, I'm sorry. Will this make it up?" You asked as you placed a kiss first on his forehead, each cheek, his nose, and neck. The feeling and attention made his cheeks heat up and no doubt he was blushing. He was waiting for the grand finale but it never came. 

"You missed a spot." He puckered his lips up to you making another laugh emerge from your throat as you leaned down to kiss it the passionate kiss you knew he was missing. Charles couldn't help but smile into the kiss as he held to back of your head to deepen it even further. 

"Better?" You asked after letting go to come up for air. One look at his blissed out expression you knew the answer. 

"Very much so." 

"Tell me next time when you're feeling jealous of your own dog. I'll kiss it better." 

"I'm still jealous." 

[httpsserene]

𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ saw this tt about how these two toddlers shared their dad's notoriously rough bed head and this post when i opened tumblr last night and had to write smth for it! sorry, for the baby content 💀 i'll get back to writing y'alls requests now xxx

the careful messiness of brunette curls has been charles’s signature hairstyle for ages. it suits him, and when paired with his dimples and green eyes—it’s no wonder why every italian and monegasque prays for his success on sundays. well, maybe bleeding rosso corsa and winning two championships driving the famed red car are the proper reasons.

if only they knew that the artful styling of his curls is nowhere to be found after he sleeps. when he wakes, his hair is in absolute disarray—the deep brown ringlets are clumped together as they stick straight upwards and yet they manage to point in every direction possible.

when you first moved in with charles, you convinced him to buy a satin pillowcase to combat the bed head. it didn’t help, and neither did the bonnets you tried to have him wear. no matter if the ties were knotted, buttoned, or even velcro-strapped tightly, the bonnet would end up by the foot of the bed and his hair was in it’s usual disordered state by the early morning hours.

so, your morning routine begins with taming charles’s severe case of bed head. he awakens slowly as your fingertips gently untangle the deep brown ringlets, moaning lowly and nudging his head into your hand like a large cat when your nails glide along his scalp. you carefully guide each curl back into their assigned positions, tutting disapprovingly at the one strand that never seems to stay in it’s place.

charles’s chest shakes with a chuckle at your slight irritation and he shifts to meet your eyes, tenderly directing your hands away from his now orderly hair to his lips, pressing kisses to your fingertips before pulling you forward to cuddle into his chest.

you didn’t expect to have to deal with more than one head of messy hair. unfortunately, it seems like your daughter inherited her father’s bed head.

your mornings now consist of charles climbing out of bed at the first crackle of noise through the baby monitor, rushing to scoop the 9-month-old from her nursery and have her join the two of you in bed. he crosses the doorway with your daughter cradled to his bare chest and leo yipping at his feet—she stares up at at him, a perfect reflection of the sea green pools of his eyes, the absence of a bonnet, and the chaotic sprawl of his brunette curls. you’ve never been bothered with the fact that she’s an exact replica of her father, as some tried to tease that your genes didn’t do more than deepen her complexion. however, you always joke back that it means that she’s been blessed to be as beautiful as charles is.

she coos and babbles up at her father and he dutifully responds in french as if he understands her baby gibberish. he sits in bed with her on his lap and she beams, her little arms and grabby hands reaching towards you. you smile back widely, stealing her from his lap and greeting your babygirl with a flurry of kisses pressed all over her cute little face. her giggles ring through the air as you pull backwards to watch her laugh and, there’s another trait she shares with her father; deep dimples decorate her chubby cheeks and you can’t help but press your thumb into them with adoration.

charles picks up his first baby, plopping the mini dachshund in bed, and leo bounds forward to press his own kisses to your daughter’s socked feet.

addressing charles’s wild bed head will have to wait as you settle her back in his lap. you rest your head on his shoulder, apologizing for interrupting the clearly important conversation the two were having. you start fixing the jumbled ringlets on her scalp with the softest touch of your digits and she nuzzles up into your hand the same way her father does. he continues from were he left off, asking your daughter if she thinks a one-stop strategy is too ambitious for the next race and she babbles back to him in reply.

charles nods in agreement, promising her that regardless of a one-stop or two-stop, he’ll bring back his third championship trophy for her.

© httpsserene - do not repost. photos in header from pinterest.

[amirasainz]

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl ♥️

The Nurse and her Racer

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as Yn hurried through the bustling paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix. The air was thick with the scent of fuel, burnt rubber, and the faint tang of espresso from the hospitality suites. Ferrari’s scarlet banners fluttered in the morning breeze, and the hum of engineers fine-tuning the cars filled the air. Yn, as always, was in the thick of it, her medical bag slung over her shoulder and a warm smile on her face. She was the heart of the Ferrari team, the one person everyone turned to when they needed comfort, care, or just a listening ear.

But today, something was off. Charles, their golden boy, was missing.

“Where’s Charles?” Yn asked, glancing around the garage. The usually lively Monegasque driver was nowhere to be seen. Lewis, leaning casually against a counter with a cup of tea in hand, raised an eyebrow at her.

“Didn’t you hear? Poor Charlie’s down with the flu,” Lewis said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Fred decided to bench him for the weekend. Can’t have him passing out in the car, can we?”

Yn’s heart sank. Charles had been looking forward to his home race for weeks. She knew how much it meant to him. “Is he okay? Has anyone checked on him?”

Lewis smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Funny you should ask. Fred’s sending you to his apartment to take care of him. Seems like you’re the only one he trusts to handle our precious Charles.”

Yn blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Me? Alone? At his apartment?”

Lewis chuckled, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Oh, don’t look so nervous. It’s just Charles. Besides, I think he’ll be thrilled to see you. He’s been giving you those puppy eyes for months now.”

Yn rolled her eyes, though her heart skipped a beat. She and Charles had always shared a special bond. He was sweet, kind, and endlessly charming, and she couldn’t deny that she had feelings for him. But she had never acted on them, and neither had he. It was an unspoken thing, a quiet understanding between them.

“I’m just his nurse,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Sure you are. Just don’t forget to take care of Leo too. That dog’s more protective of Charles than Fred is.”

---

An hour later, Yn found herself standing outside Charles’ sleek, modern apartment in Monte Carlo. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her scrubs and adjusting the strap of her medical bag. Before she could knock, the door swung open, revealing a very sick-looking Charles. His usually bright eyes were dull, his hair messy, and his cheeks flushed with fever. He was wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants, looking far from the confident F1 driver the world knew.

“Yn?” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

“Fred sent me,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “You look terrible, Charles.”

He managed a weak smile. “Thanks. I feel terrible.”

Behind him, Leo, Charles’ dachshund, trotted over to Yn, wagging his tail excitedly. She bent down to scratch his ears, earning a happy bark from the little dog.

“At least someone’s happy to see me,” she teased, straightening up and giving Charles a gentle smile. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Charles groaned but didn’t argue. He shuffled back to his bedroom, Leo following closely behind. Yn took in the apartment as she followed him. It was spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Mediterranean. But it was also surprisingly cozy, with photos of Charles’ family and friends scattered around, along with a few racing trophies.

She helped Charles into bed, fluffing his pillows and tucking the blankets around him. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on his face.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmured.

“It’s my job,” she replied, though her cheeks warmed at the way he was looking at her. She busied herself with taking his temperature and checking his vitals, her touch gentle and professional.

“You’re burning up,” she said, frowning. “Have you taken anything for the fever?”

Charles shook his head. “I forgot.”

Yn sighed, rummaging through her bag for some medication. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

He chuckled weakly. “Maybe. But you’re here to take care of me, so I’ll be fine.”

She handed him the pills and a glass of water, watching as he swallowed them. Leo jumped onto the bed, curling up at Charles’ feet and giving Yn a look that seemed to say, I’ve got this.

“You should rest,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Charles hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”

Her heart melted at the vulnerability in his voice. “Of course,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Charles shifted slightly, making room for her. Before she could protest, he reached out and pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. Leo wiggled closer, pressing himself against her side.

“Charles—” she started, but he cut her off.

“Please,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Just for a little while.”

Yn’s resolve crumbled. She relaxed into his embrace, her hand resting lightly on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her palm, and she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. Leo let out a contented sigh, his tail thumping against the blankets.

For a while, they lay there in silence, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Yn’s mind raced, torn between her professional instincts and the feelings she had been trying to suppress. Charles’ arms around her felt so right, so natural, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way.

“Yn?” Charles’ voice was barely a whisper, drowsy from the medication.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.”

She smiled, her fingers gently stroking his hair. “Always, Charles. Now go to sleep.”

He hummed in response, his grip on her tightening slightly. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and she knew he was asleep. Leo let out a soft snore, his little body rising and falling with each breath.

Yn stayed there, her heart full, knowing that this was where she was meant to be—right by Charles’ side, taking care of him, loving him. And maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

---

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. Yn stayed with Charles, nursing him back to health and enjoying the quiet moments they shared. By the time the race was over, Charles was feeling much better, and the sparkle had returned to his eyes.

As they stood on his balcony, watching the sun set over the Mediterranean, Charles turned to her, his expression serious.

“Yn.” he said, taking her hand in his. “I need to tell you something.”

Her heart raced, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“I… I really like you. More than just as my nurse. You mean so much to me, and I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled up at him. “I like you too, Charles. More than you know.”

He grinned, pulling her into a tight hug. Leo barked happily, wagging his tail as if he knew exactly what was happening.

And in that moment, Yn knew that her life was about to change in the best way possible—with Charles by her side, and Leo as their loyal protector.

[23victoria]

gingerbread cookies!

pairings: 𝓯1 𝓰𝓻𝓲𝓭 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

word count: 3.8𝓴

synopsis: 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓼

authors note: 𝓭𝓪𝔂 1 𝓸𝓯 𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓼! 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂! 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓼𝓴𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭!!

𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!

F1 MASTERLIST F1 CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

Lewis

The kitchen is already buzzing with excitement. Lia’s tiny voice fills the room as she sits on the counter, clapping her flour-covered hands while her big brother Leo drags a chair to the counter so he can reach the mixing bowl. Lewis stands next to you, grinning from ear to ear, his apron slightly already dusted with flour. You’re armed with a rolling pin and a smile, ready to face the inevitable chaos of baking gingerbread cookies for the first time as a family.

“Alright, team,” Lewis says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s make some gingerbread magic happen.”

“Cookies, Daddy!” Lia cheers, throwing her arms in the air. The sudden movement sends a puff of flour into the air, and both you and Lewis cough, laughing as the powder settles.

“Cookies, yes, princess,” he says, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her flour-speckled cheek. She giggles and squirms, and he sets her back down on the counter. “But first, we have to mix the dough. Leo, you ready to be my sous-chef?”

Leo’s chest puffs up with pride. “Yes, Dad! I’m ready.”

You hand him the wooden spoon, and he gets to work mixing the dry ingredients. You and Lewis guide him, taking turns measuring out the cinnamon, ginger, and cloves while Lia alternates between sneaking handfuls of flour and trying to “help” by stirring.

“Lia, no eating the flour,” you say gently, pulling her flour-covered fingers out of her mouth. “It doesn’t taste good yet.”

She pouts dramatically, her big brown eyes shining with mischief. “But I’m hungry, Mommy!”

“You’ll get cookies soon,” Lewis assures her, ruffling her curly hair. “But first, we have to make the dough.”

The dough comes together quickly, though not without a few mishaps. Lia accidentally dumps too much sugar into the bowl, prompting a quick rescue mission from you and Leo. Lewis adds a bit too much molasses, which makes the dough stickier than it should be. But the laughter and teamwork make up for any imperfections.

When it’s time to roll out the dough, you dust the counter with flour and hand Lia a miniature rolling pin. She takes her job very seriously, rolling the dough with all her might, even if it’s uneven and full of tiny fingerprints.

“Look, Mommy! I’m a chef!” she announces proudly.

“You’re the best chef,” you reply, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Meanwhile, Leo focuses intently on cutting out shapes with the cookie cutters. He’s careful and precise, his tongue poking out in concentration as he presses a star-shaped cutter into the dough.

“Good job, buddy,” Lewis says, giving him a fist bump. “That’s a perfect star.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Leo says, beaming.

Of course, it’s not long before things start to spiral into delightful chaos. Lia, bored with rolling dough, begins decorating her face with flour, creating what she calls a “gingerbread mask.” Leo accidentally knocks over the bowl of sprinkles, sending colorful candies skittering across the floor. And Lewis, in his attempt to “help,” manages to get icing on his nose and eyebrows.

“You’re supposed to decorate the cookies, not yourself,” you tease, laughing as you wipe a smear of icing off his cheek.

“I’m just setting the vibe,” he quips, leaning in to kiss you. Before his lips can meet yours, Lia interrupts with a loud, “Ewwww, Mommy and Daddy are kissing!”

You and Lewis laugh, pulling apart but not before he winks at you. “We’ll finish that later,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear.

Finally, the cookies are ready to go into the oven. You let Leo and Lia take turns placing the tray in with Lewis supervising closely.

As the cookies bake, the smell of ginger and cinnamon fills the kitchen, making everyone’s mouth water. You’re wiping down the counter when Lia tugs on your sleeve.

“Mommy, can we make hot chocolate?” she asks sweetly, her flour-covered face tilted up at you.

“Of course we can,” you say, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the floor. “Let’s get the mugs.”

By the time the cookies are ready, the four of you are sitting at the table, sipping hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. The cookies, though slightly misshapen, are delicious, and Leo takes great pride in pointing out which ones he decorated.

“This one’s mine,” he says, holding up a star-shaped cookie covered in lopsided icing. “And that one’s Lia’s.”

“It’s so pretty,” Lia says, clapping her hands. “Just like me!”

Lewis bursts out laughing. “You’re not wrong, princess.”

As the evening winds down, you survey the mess in the kitchen: flour on the counters, sprinkles on the floor, and sticky fingerprints everywhere. But the sound of your children’s laughter and the sight of their frosting-smeared faces make it all worth it.

“We’re definitely doing this again next year,” Lewis says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Absolutely,” you agree, leaning into him.

The kids, now on a sugar high, start a game of tag around the table, their giggles echoing through the house.

Charles

The twins are perched on either side of the kitchen island, their little hands eager to dive into the pile of cookie cutters and bowls of colorful icing. Jules, ever the perfectionist, carefully lines up the cutters, his brow furrowed in concentration. Alessandro, on the other hand, is already elbow-deep in the flour, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Papa, is it like this?" Jules asks, holding up a perfectly shaped gingerbread man. Charles leans over, his green eyes sparkling with pride. "C'est parfait, Jules! You’re a natural."

You’re busy rolling out another sheet of dough when Alessandro lets out a frustrated huff. "Mine broke!" he exclaims, holding up a decapitated gingerbread man. Tears threaten to spill as he glares at the dough.

Before you or Charles can intervene, Jules slides his own gingerbread man over to his twin. "Here, Ale. You can have mine. I’ll make another one," he says softly, his tone filled with understanding.

The gesture melts your heart. Charles places a hand on your back, his expression a mix of pride and tenderness as he watches his sons. "They’re good boys," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Alessandro sniffs, accepting the cookie with a shy smile. "Thanks, Jules. You’re the best brother."

The rest of the baking session goes smoothly, with Alessandro taking his time to mimic Jules’ careful technique. The boys work together to decorate their cookies, laughing as they sneak tastes of icing and sprinkles. Charles manages to snap a few candid photos, capturing the flour-streaked faces and genuine smiles that light up the room.

When the cookies are finally done, the twins proudly present their creations to you and Charles. "Look, Mama! Papa!" they say in unison, holding up their plates of colorful gingerbread men.

"Magnificent!" Charles declares, pulling the boys into a bear hug. "You two are master bakers."

You smile, wrapping your arms around your little family, your heart has never felt fuller.

Carlos

The kitchen is a whirlwind of chaos and laughter as your three little ones dive into the gingerbread-making process. Ruby, your five-year-old, takes charge immediately, carefully measuring out ingredients with her tongue poking out in concentration. Marco, who is four, is more interested in sneaking tastes of the dough, while Roman, your three-year-old, is determined to use every single cookie cutter at once.

"Mama, can I do the sprinkles now?" Ruby asks, holding up a shaker of red and green sprinkles. Before you can answer, Marco bumps into her, causing the shaker to topple over and coat the counter in a glittering mess.

"Marco!" Ruby scolds, her lower lip trembling as she surveys the ruined sprinkles.

"Sorry!" Marco says quickly, his big brown eyes wide with guilt. Roman, sensing the tension, toddles over to Ruby and wraps his little arms around her waist. "Don’t be sad, Ruby. We help," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Marco nods earnestly, grabbing a dishcloth. "I’ll clean it up, Ruby!"

You exchange a look with Carlos, who is watching the scene unfold with a soft smile. "Our little team," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

With Ruby’s spirits lifted, the three kids work together to fix the mess. Marco carefully wipes up the spilled sprinkles while Roman hands Ruby a new shaker. "Here, Ruby. You do it better," he says, his tiny voice full of sincerity.

Carlos crouches down to help Ruby and Marco roll out the dough again, his hands guiding theirs as they press the cutters into the soft surface. Roman, meanwhile, has discovered the joy of throwing flour into the air, creating a fine white mist that settles over everyone.

"Roman!" Carlos exclaims, laughing as he tries to stop the little boy. But Roman is too quick, and soon even Carlos’ dark hair is dusted with flour.

By the time the cookies are finally baked and decorated, the kitchen looks like a tornado has passed through. But as you sit on the floor with Carlos and the kids, nibbling on warm gingerbread and sharing stories, the mess feels like a small price to pay for such a perfect family moment.

Max

The kitchen feels extra cozy as little Mia, your three-year-old daughter, toddles up to the counter on her step stool. She clutches a rolling pin almost as big as her, her tiny tongue peeking out in concentration.

"Dada, I’m making a big cookie!" Mia announces, pressing down on the dough with all her strength. Max chuckles, standing beside her. "A big cookie for a big girl, right?"

You’re sifting flour when Mia suddenly sneezes. A puff of flour rises into the air, landing on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes go wide in surprise before she bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Dada! I’m white!" she exclaims, pointing to her face. Max grins and taps her nose with his finger, adding another smudge of flour. "Now you look like a snowman!"

"Mama, I’m a snowman!" Mia declares, holding out her arms for you to see. You laugh, wiping your hands on a towel before leaning in to kiss her floury cheek. "The cutest snowman I’ve ever seen."

As Mia works on her giant cookie, Max decides to get creative. He scoops a bit of icing and dabs it on your nose, earning a playful glare from you. "Max!"

"What? It’s Christmas spirit!" he says innocently, though his mischievous grin gives him away.

Before long, the kitchen turns into a playful battlefield. Mia joins in, flinging tiny handfuls of flour at both you and Max. Her giggles echo through the room as Max lifts her up, spinning her around to evade your “retaliation” with a handful of sprinkles.

When the cookies are finally in the oven, the three of you are covered head to toe in flour, sprinkles, and icing. Mia sits on Max’s lap at the kitchen table, munching on a leftover piece of dough. "Dada, can we eat the cookies now?" she asks, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Soon, angel," Max says, brushing a strand of flour-dusted hair out of her face. "First, they have to bake."

As you all wait, you take a moment to snap a photo of your messy but happy little family. The kitchen might need serious cleaning, but the memories made within its walls are priceless. Once the cookies are out of the oven, cooled, and decorated with Mia’s enthusiastic smears of icing and an overload of sprinkles, she proudly holds up her "big cookie."

"Look, Mama! Dada! My cookie is so pretty!" she beams, her little chest puffed out with pride.

"It’s the best cookie I’ve ever seen," Max says earnestly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. You nod in agreement, wrapping an arm around both of them.

"Absolutely. This one’s going in the family hall of fame," you tease, already planning to snap another picture. The three of you sit down to enjoy the sweet treats together, your hearts full despite the flour-coated chaos surrounding you.

Lando

The kitchen is a whirlwind of flour, sugar, and laughter as you and Lando attempt to make gingerbread cookies with your four-year-old daughter, Celeste. Standing on her little stool by the counter, she’s already covered in flour from head to toe, her tiny hands eagerly grabbing at the cookie cutters. Lando leans close to her, his face alight with a mixture of amusement and pure adoration.

“Alright, baby,” Lando says, handing her a star-shaped cutter. “Press it down nice and hard, just like this.” He demonstrates with a gingerbread man cutter, and Celeste mimics him with all the determination of a toddler on a mission.

“I did it!” she announces proudly, holding up her slightly lopsided star. Her big green eyes shine as she turns to you for approval.

“That’s perfect, baby girl,” you say, brushing a bit of flour off her nose. “You’re a natural baker.”

Celeste beams, and Lando’s grin widens as he grabs another piece of dough. “She takes after me,” he teases, earning an eye roll from you. “What can I say? Talent runs in the family.”

“Oh, does it?” you reply, arching a brow as you sprinkle a little flour onto his cheek. Lando gasps dramatically, grabbing a handful of flour and tossing it into the air like confetti. Celeste squeals with laughter, clapping her hands and sending a puff of flour everywhere.

“Lando!” you scold, though you’re laughing too.

“What? She started it,” he says, pointing at Celeste, who giggles even harder.

When the cookies are finally in the oven, the three of you sit at the table with bowls of icing and sprinkles. Lando takes one look at the little tray of cookies and shakes his head. “I think these might be the most... abstract gingerbread cookies ever made.”

Celeste holds up a cookie she’s decorated with three blobs of icing and a pile of red sprinkles. “It’s a snowman!” she says proudly.

Lando’s face softens, and he nods. “The best snowman I’ve ever seen,” he says, leaning over to kiss her flour-dusted cheek.

You watch as Celeste happily eats her cookie, her tiny teeth nibbling away at the edges. Lando’s eyes never leave her, his expression so full of love it makes your heart ache. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs, reaching over to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

As Celeste finishes her cookie, Lando scoops her up into his arms, spinning her around until she’s giggling uncontrollably. He plants kisses all over her face, making her squeal and squirm. “Daddy, stop! It tickles!”

“Never!” Lando declares, holding her close and laughing along with her.

By the end of the evening, the kitchen is a complete mess, but you wouldn’t trade the chaos for anything. With Celeste snuggled up between you and Lando on the couch, her tiny hand clutching a gingerbread star, you feel like the luckiest family in the world.

Oscar

The kitchen is calm but buzzing with a quiet excitement as your twins, four-year-old Odessa and Ocean, stand on their step stools by the counter. Odessa’s brows are furrowed in deep concentration as she carefully presses a gingerbread man cutter into the rolled-out dough. Ocean, on the other hand, is humming a Christmas tune, sprinkling flour on her side of the counter with as much flair as possible.

"Mommy, look! Mine has arms this time!" Odessa says proudly, holding up her perfectly shaped cookie. You smile and nod, brushing a bit of flour from her cheek.

"Great job, honeybun! You’re getting really good at this."

Oscar, standing nearby with a mixing bowl in hand, chuckles softly. "'s precision is unmatched," he says, ruffling Odessa’s dark brown curls before turning to Ocean. "And Ocean, are you making snow angels or cookies?"

Ocean giggles, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Both!" she declares, throwing a puff of flour into the air. It lands on her hair, turning her into a mini snow queen.

Oscar shakes his head, amused, and places the bowl down to help. "Alright, let’s focus on the cookies before we lose the rest of the flour," he says, guiding Ocean’s tiny hands to press a star cutter into the dough.

"Daddy, do you like stars or trees better?" Ocean asks, glancing up at him.

Oscar pretends to think for a moment. "Hmm, I think I like stars better because they remind me of you and Odessa—my two brightest stars."

Odessa rolls her eyes in good-natured embarrassment. "Papa, that’s so cheesy."

You laugh, nudging Odessa gently. "Sometimes cheesy is good, honey."

As the cookies bake in the oven, the four of you sit at the table, readying bowls of icing and sprinkles for decorating. Odessa picks up a piping bag, her little hands steady as she carefully outlines her gingerbread man’s shirt. Ocean, meanwhile, goes for an avant-garde approach, covering her cookie with every color of icing she can reach.

"Ocean, your gingerbread man looks like a rainbow exploded on him," Odessa comments, tilting her head as she examines her work.

"It’s called art," Ocean replies with a dramatic flip of her flour-dusted hair.

Oscar hides a grin behind his hand, leaning over to whisper to you. "She’s got your sass."

You laugh softly, watching your little ones pour their hearts into their creations. When the cookies are finally finished, Odessa presents her gingerbread man with a proud grin. "Look, Daddy, it’s you!"

Oscar inspects the cookie’s neat icing tie and buttoned shirt, his eyes crinkling with delight. "Wow, Odessa. You’ve made me look very handsome."

"And this one’s Mommy!" Ocean chimes in, holding up a colorful cookie that’s practically drowning in sprinkles.

You gasp playfully. "Ocean, I’ve never looked better."

The evening ends with all four of you sitting on the couch, enjoying your gingerbread creations and a Christmas movie playing softly in the background. Odessa leans against Oscar’s side, and Ocean cuddles in your lap, both happily munching on their cookies. As the glow of the Christmas tree lights flickers across the room, you catch Oscar’s eye. He smiles at you, the warmth in his gaze saying everything words can’t.

The kitchen may be clean now, the flour swept away and the cookie cutters put back in their drawers, but the memory of this perfect family moment will linger long after the last crumb is gone.

Sebastian

The kitchen is lively with chatter as Sebastian stands at the counter, helping your children, Tommy, Jamie, and Ambria, shape gingerbread cookies. Jamie, determined to make the perfect reindeer, furrows his brows in concentration while Ambria giggles, sprinkling flour onto the table—and accidentally onto Sebastian’s hair.

"Ambria," Sebastian says in mock seriousness, brushing flour off his curls, "are you trying to turn me into a snowman?"

Ambria bursts into laughter. "You’d make the best snowman, Papa!" she declares, tossing another puff of flour into the air. Jamie snickers, but his focus remains on his dough.

"Alright, alright," you interject, smiling as you place a tray of freshly shaped cookies onto the counter. "Let’s save some flour for the actual baking, shall we?"

Sebastian grins at you, his green eyes sparkling. "They’re creative, what can I say?"

The oven hums as the first batch of cookies bakes, filling the air with the warm, spiced scent of gingerbread. Jamie and Ambria lean against the counter, eagerly watching the timer count down.

"Papa," Jamie says, glancing up at Sebastian, "why do we always make gingerbread cookies at Christmas?"

Sebastian kneels to Jamie’s level, his hands resting on his son’s flour-dusted shoulders. "Because it’s a tradition," he explains gently. "It’s something we do together as a family, so that every Christmas, we can remember these moments."

Ambria tilts her head thoughtfully. "Like a memory we can eat?"

Sebastian chuckles, pulling her into a hug. "Exactly, my little philosopher."

When the cookies are done, the decorating begins. Ambria meticulously decorates each cookie with colorful icing and sprinkles, while Jamie opts for a simpler approach, carefully outlining each one. Sebastian joins in, creating a gingerbread version of each family member.

"This one’s Mama," he says, holding up a cookie with icing hair that matches yours. "Beautiful, just like the real thing."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Seb."

Later, as the cookies cool, the four of you sit around the Christmas tree with mugs of hot chocolate, the lights casting a soft glow around the room. Ambria snuggles into Sebastian’s side, her head resting on his shoulder, while Jamie leans against your arm, holding a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman.

"These are the best cookies we’ve ever made," Ambria declares, her voice sleepy but content.

Sebastian smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. "That’s because we made them together," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours.

In that moment, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the scent of gingerbread, you realize that these simple traditions, messy, flour-filled, and full of love, are what make the holidays truly magical.

Jenson

Your home is filled with the chaos and warmth only a family of seven can create. The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity as your five children—eleven-year-old Orion, nine-year-old Brandon, eight-year-old Killian, four-year-old Isabella, and one-year-old Luna—all take their positions around the counter. Jenson stands at the center, his sleeves rolled up and a mischievous grin on his face, ready to lead the troops.

“Alright, everyone,” Jenson announces, clapping his hands. “We’re making gingerbread cookies. Team Button, are you ready?”

“Yes!” Orion and Brandon shout, already reaching for the flour and rolling pins. Killian grabs a handful of cookie cutters, examining them with the precision of a race engineer. Isabella bounces on her stool, her excitement contagious as she claps her flour-dusted hands. Luna, perched safely in her highchair, babbles happily, smacking her little fists against the tray.

You laugh, standing back for a moment to watch the organized chaos unfold. “This is either going to be amazing or a complete disaster,” you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter.

Jenson winks at you. “It’ll be both,” he replies confidently.

Orion, the eldest and self-appointed leader of the kids, takes charge of measuring the ingredients. “Dad, do we really need this much cinnamon?” he asks, holding up the spice jar.

Jenson pretends to think deeply. “Hmm, cinnamon makes everything better, so maybe add just a little more.”

Brandon nudges Orion with a smirk. “He just wants an excuse to eat more cookies.”

Killian, meanwhile, has commandeered the cookie cutters and is lining them up in a perfect row. “We need a reindeer, a star, and a Christmas tree,” he declares. “And maybe a race car, if we can make one.”

“A race car?” Jenson grins, his eyes lighting up. “That’s my boy.”

Isabella, not to be outdone, grabs a rolling pin and starts flattening the dough with all her might. “I’m making the biggest cookie ever!” she announces, her tiny hands working with determination. You step in to help guide her efforts, laughing as she sticks her tongue out in concentration.

As the dough begins to take shape, Luna decides she’s had enough of just watching. She smacks her tray again, this time sending a puff of flour into the air.

“Luna wants to help too,” you say, lifting her out of the highchair and handing her a soft piece of dough to squish in her tiny fists. She giggles, smearing it across her cheeks like war paint.

“She’s starting her own cookie war,” Jenson jokes, snapping a picture on his phone.

Once the cookies are cut and placed on baking sheets, the decorating begins. Orion and Brandon focus on intricate designs, their competitive streaks coming out as they try to outdo each other. Killian, ever the perfectionist, takes his time with each cookie, ensuring every sprinkle is in its rightful place. Isabella opts for a more abstract approach, piling on as much icing and candy as possible. Luna, of course, eats more sprinkles than she applies, her little face sticky with sugar.

“Look at this one,” Jenson says, holding up a gingerbread man with a green icing bow tie. “This is Uncle Lewis. What do you think?”

The kids burst into laughter. “He needs sunglasses!” Orion suggests, grabbing black icing to add the finishing touch.

When the cookies are finally done and cooling on the racks, the kitchen looks like a snowstorm of flour and sugar has hit it. Jenson surveys the mess with a chuckle. “Well, we might need a pit crew to clean this up.”

“I’ll help, Dad,” Brandon volunteers, grabbing a dishcloth.

“Me too!” Killian chimes in, his perfectionist tendencies extending to tidying up.

As the cleaning begins, you notice Isabella carefully placing her cookies on a plate. “These are for Santa,” she explains, her voice serious. “He needs the best ones.”

“And these are for us,” Orion says, holding up a tray. “Because we’re the best cookie makers in the world.”

Jenson wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as you watch your children’s teamwork and laughter. “We did good, didn’t we?” he murmurs.

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah, we really did.”

That night, after the kids are tucked into bed, you and Jenson sit by the Christmas tree, sharing a plate of gingerbread cookies and a quiet moment together. The chaos of the day lingers in the best way, filling your heart with warmth and love.

“Same time next year?” Jenson asks, a playful glint in his eye.

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “Definitely.”

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! ❥☽ @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon-blog @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @flowerpetalk @paucubarsisimp @its-elias-world @magixpracticality @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[oh-phoenixx]

"Ball" - Black Brothers/Jegulus microfic - 937 words

-

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Remus had all his scars, why he and his friends were busy every full moon. After realising that Remus was a werewolf, Regulus understood quickly what his friends had done to help him. He decided to do some research into becoming an animagus, and at first, it was just to understand how his brother, James, and Peter had done it. He had no desire to become an animagus himself, really. But he grew curious, eager. It was a long process, yes, but he could do it. 

So, on a full moon, he put a mandrake leaf in his mouth, which he would have to keep there until the next month. He collected everything else he would need with the help of Pandora, the only person he had told his plan. 

Regulus stopped Sirius outside the Great Hall after the following full moon. “Sirius, can I talk to you?” Regulus asked, his voice coming out smaller than he had intended.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sirius replied with a nod, waving his hand for James, Peter, and Remus to go inside. “What’s up?”

“Don’t laugh,” Regulus started nervously, “but I’m…I’m trying to become an animagus. And I know you and your friends already are, and I wanted your help.”

Sirius’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what you mean, we, uh, we aren’t…”

“Sirius,” Regulus sighed. “I know you are, I’m not an idiot. And I know that Remus is a-” Regulus looked around, remembering that they were in public. “Well, I know what he is.”

Sirius gaped at him further, looking worried. He seemed, for a moment, as though he might argue, but instead took a deep breath and gave in. “Fine. I’ll write down the steps.”

“I’ve already done it all. I just,” Regulus’s voice became an embarrassed murmur, “I wanted you to be there when I, um, transformed.”

Sirius’s concerned frown turned into a grin, and he tried to ruffle his brother’s hair. Regulus sidestepped and glared at him, though Sirius wasn’t deterred. 

Regulus regretted asking him for help, though, when he transformed the next day and it turned out his animagus was a tiny black kitten. When he managed to become human again, Sirius was clutching his stomach and laughing like a maniac.

“It’s not that funny!” Regulus grumbled.

Sirius didn’t seem to agree.

-

Quite soon after becoming an animagus, Regulus found that it was much more comfortable for him to be a cat than a human being. Maybe it was because he was always trying to make himself smaller anyway; maybe because, as a cat, he could just hiss at anyone who came too close, which was not ‘socially acceptable’ for a person.

Regulus sat outside the Gryffindor common room one day, and followed after a student as they stepped inside the portrait. He had intended to talk to his brother, but once inside he found Sirius, James, and Marlene all sitting by the fire. He walked over and curled up by Sirius’s legs, not wanting to disturb his brother's evening.

“Aw, look at him!” James nearly shouted, leaning down to stroke Regulus.

“Don’t, James,” Marlene warned, “I tried to pet him the other day and he scratched me. He’s evil.”

“He’s not evil, Marls,” James frowned, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “He’s a little ball of fluff.”

James picked the cat up and set him on his lap, stroking him absent-mindedly as he continued his conversation with Marlene. Sirius, however, glared at the small black cat. If anyone else had tried that, Regulus would have hissed or bitten them. Regulus was sure, as Sirius looked between him and James suspiciously, that he knew.

It became a habit for Regulus, going into the Gryffindor common room and sitting with James. Everyone else was confused as to why the little black cat hated everyone but him, and James took pride in this. 

“What do you think I should call him?” James asked his friends, the cat nuzzling his face. 

“Leo,” Sirius scoffed. 

James didn’t hear the sarcasm in his tone, and held the cat a few inches from his face. “Leo!”

-

“Regulus,” Sirius called.

Regulus tried to walk away, pretending not to have heard him, but Sirius caught his arm before he could. He dragged him to an empty corner of the hallway, trying to catch Regulus’s eye. 

“You’re in love with him,” Sirius stated. Regulus’s mouth opened and closed, searching for a defense. He couldn’t find any. “It’s okay, you know,” Sirius said, softer now. “But I wish you would have told me.”

“Thought you’d laugh,” Regulus mumbled. “It’s stupid.”

“Nah, it’s not. I mean, I probably would have laughed, yeah, but it’s not stupid.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, and he would never admit that knowing Sirius wasn’t annoyed felt like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Steeling himself, Regulus clenched his jaw and fixed Sirius with a glare.

“If you tell him, Sirius, I swear I will pull your fucking teeth out,” Regulus threatened. 

“Yeah, whatever you say, loverboy,” Sirius grinned, walking away. 

-

It was months before Regulus built up the courage to confess. He was looking everywhere but James’s eyes as he wondered how to phrase this. 

“I know what you’re going to say,” James smiled down at him.

“You do?” Regulus asked, taking a deep, shaky breath.

“You’re Leo,” James declared, seeming proud of his discovery.

Regulus tried to form words, though was momentarily stunned. “That’s not- I was going to tell you I was in love with you, but how did you know about-”

“You’re in love with me?!”

[pastryfication]

hihi could I request a fic where arthur is babysitting leo and takes him on a walk and meets y/n and their dog?

love at first sniff | arthur leclerc

part of the love at first . . . series.

pairing: arthur leclerc x reader note: it ended up just being very short but i hope you like it either way xx

when charles asks arthur to look after leo for the weekend, he doesn’t hesitate for even a moment. leo’s a tiny dachshund with big brown eyes and an even bigger personality, and while arthur’s not entirely sure how he’s going to manage, he can’t say no to charles—or to the way leo wags his tail when he sees him.

the first morning, arthur decides to take leo for a walk around the neighborhood. it’s early, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden glow over everything. the streets are quiet, and arthur finds the calm refreshing. leo trots along beside him, his little legs working overtime to keep up, and arthur can’t help but smile at the dog’s enthusiasm.

as they turn a corner, leo suddenly perks up, his ears twitching. arthur follows his gaze and spots another dog up ahead—a cocker spaniel with a golden coat, ears floppy and a leash held by a girl around his age.

you’re standing near a patch of grass, watching your dog sniff around, a soft smile on your lips. arthur notices the way the light catches in your hair as you fondly look at your pet, and he feels a flicker of nerves in his chest.

leo, however, doesn’t share his hesitation. the moment he sees the cocker spaniel, he’s off, tugging at his leash with surprising force. arthur stumbles after him, trying not to laugh at the little dog’s determination.

“sorry about that,” arthur says once he’s close enough, a bit breathless as he finally gets leo to slow down. “he’s really excited.”

you laugh, glancing down at leo, who’s now stretching up on his hind legs, trying to sniff your dog’s face. “it’s okay,” you say. your voice is warm and comforting and arthur never wants you to stop talking. “he’s adorable. what’s his name?”

“leo,” arthur replies, gently pulling the dachshund back to a sit. “he’s my brother’s dog. i’m just looking after him for the weekend.”

“well, leo’s very charming,” you say, smiling down at the little dog. “this is daisy,” you add, nodding toward your brown dog, who’s watching leo with curious, gentle eyes.

“leo and daisy,” arthur says, grinning. “they sound like they could be the stars of a children’s book.” immediately after saying it, he cringes on the inside. what was that?

but you only laugh again, seemingly not put off by his awkward humour, and arthur can’t help but feel a bit more at ease. the conversation flows naturally after that, both of you chatting about the dogs and swapping stories about their quirks. arthur finds himself relaxing, enjoying how easy it is to talk to you. daisy seems to have taken a liking to leo as well, sniffing around him and wagging her tail, while leo bounces around her, excited and playful.

as you talk, arthur learns that you live just a few blocks away and that you often take daisy on early morning walks.

there’s something about the way you speak—open, friendly, and warm—that makes arthur feel like he’s known you longer than just a few minutes. he’s never been particularly good at small talk, but with you, it doesn’t feel like an effort at all.

eventually, you glance at your watch and sigh softly. “i should probably get going,” you say, though you don’t seem in any real hurry to leave. “daisy’s going to start pulling if we stay much longer.”

arthur nods, feeling a twinge of disappointment but trying not to show it. “yeah, leo’s got a lot of energy to burn off too.”

you kneel down to give leo a quick pat on the head, your fingers gentle in his fur. “it was really nice meeting you, arthur. maybe we’ll see each other around again?”

“i’d like that,” arthur says, his response coming out a bit more eagerly than he intended, but you just smile.

“me too,” you reply, giving daisy’s leash a gentle tug. “come on, daisy.”

as you walk away, arthur watches for a moment, a small smile lingering on his face. leo whines a little, clearly disappointed to see daisy go, and arthur chuckles, giving the dachshund a gentle nudge with his foot. “come on, leo. let’s head home.”

as they continue their walk, arthur can’t help but think about the way you smiled at him, how easy it was to talk to you. maybe looking after leo isn’t so bad after all, he muses, a small spark of hope warming his chest.

and as they make their way back to charles’s place, arthur finds himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, tomorrow’s walk might lead them past that same corner again.

[melondecarabia]

⋆˙⟡ vagastrom nsfw headcanons 

mdni! 

fem reader

authors note: my first time writing smut... im so nervous

smut under the cut!

alan 

first off, no experience at all. he's the type of person that will only have sex with someone he knows will stay and accept him, even if he thinks of himself as dangerous. 

so, submissive vers methinks. he needs you to tell him what to do, and will gladly follow instructions. you want him to be on top? you want to ride him? he'll do anything for the both of yours pleasure. he's incredibly touchstarved, and will melt at any affection he gets from you. 

also, he prefers to do it in either his or your bedroom. he doesn't want people walking in (especially a certain menace.) might consider a lockable closet in the more isolated parts of a building if very pent up, but that's pushing it. sex is an ultimate act of vulnerability to him, and doesn't want anyone to bear witness to it. 

i don't think he has that much drive though, he just works out to keep himself distracted. very willing to suffocate between your thighs any time though! 

he's a thigh guy. even regularly, he finds comfort in laying his head there if you offer. 

handjobs will have him flustered. you're only focusing on him? he gets flustered, and clutches the sheets in his hands while burying his face in the crook of your neck. raggedy breaths and groans leave him with each touch to his leaking tip. gets teary eyed with overstimulation, but won't stop you. it's too good. 

gets turned on by domesticity. waking up next to you in the morning sun will have him instantly hard. 

prefers classic positions like missionary and cowgirl. with missionary, he can tangle his hands in the sheets and not risk hurting you, and same with the other. might be hesitant to put his hands on your hips and help, but he gets more confident over time. 

praise kink central! he gets so flustered, and even denies them, but his heart skips a beat every time you call him handsome or sweet. 

his dick is significantly bigger than average i think. thick, and he trims his hair pretty well, especially when you two start to get intimate. 

mostly silent, save for groans and some breathy vocals. likes to listen to you, as your moans signify he's doing things right.

man… him being insecure, and riding him to oblivion while complimenting every part of him. he hides his face behind his hand, but tweaking his sensitive nipples will have his attention immediately. taking his face in your hands and kissing him deeply, brushing away his tears with your thumbs? instant orgasm for him. 

needs some help with aftercare, but he memorizes it pretty quick. loves to cuddle for a while before moving. he needs to bask in your presence for a bit longer. 

sho

i think he has a plenty of experience ngl. he's got experience, and intends to use it for… good? 

pleasure dom. he wants you shaking with overstimulation, but that's the meanest he gets besides some light teasing. 

his drive is a bit higher than average. he's got energy, and after closing the food truck for the day, he's going to town on you. every memory of an arrogant customer gets washed away by each orgasm he manages to coax out of you. 

also motivated by jealousy. he dislikes every person who hits on you, and gives you hickies to ward them off. 

a boob guy. loves leaving hickies all over your chest, and seeing them the morning after gets him in the mood yet again. 

would do it anywhere with at least a bit of privacy and a stable surface, except his foodtruck. he's not going to get a food safety violation notice no matter how horny he is. anywhere else? hell yeah. he would get it on next door to leo if he pisses him off enough, knowing he has sensitive hearing. 

also gets turned on by domesticity. helping him cook breakfast has him thinking about the future he wants to spend with you. he's in this for the long haul, and can't stop his heart thundering to the sound of your laughter. he's whipped. 

likes spooning. his hands are free to play with your boobs and clit while grinding into you? best of everything. 

his dick is slightly longer than average. keeps his hair short. 

dexterous and strong fingers as well. he'll have you screaming his name in minutes, and he silences you with a smug kiss. 

for aftercare, he gets you to both to shower, where he might have to carry you. after that, he's upgrading the leftovers for the day and gets you to drink a lot of water. 

leo 

not as much experienced in penetrative sex as oral. he's gotten sucked off pretty many times, and (rarely) given the favor back, and that's because he's scared of intimacy. 

bratty bottom. pillow prince. god i want to put him in a blender. wants you to all the work, but you'll get him to be active with enough authority. 

pretty high sex drive, but refuses to admit it. pisses you off enough so that you pin him to a wall, and he gets all smug, mocking you for being so aggressively needy. walking away will make him mad. getting him to admit he wants you is like pulling teeth. 

his dick is a bit smaller than average, which he denies. smooth as glass hair-wise. dusted a cute pink, and telling him that will make his day even if he doesn't say anything at the moment. he's a slut for compliments. 

absolutely motivated by jealousy. even hanging out with your friends will have him fuming, even if all leo has with you is a weird (friends?) with benefits situation. your attention should be on him only!!!

he moans loud! especially if he knows one of your friends is nearby. whiny too. will not shut up, and absolutely does it on purpose. 

the fact that you regularly have sex with him actually does mean he likes you and has gotten attached. anyone else would've been a one time thing, so you're stuck with him for life now. 

would offer to eat you out as a birthday gift. feeling that tongue piercing on you is rare, and you better cherish it. 

also, he owns toys. with a bit of convincing you'll get to peg him. (he bought that strap on in your favorite color) (he says it's coincidence) 

he's got some masochistic tendencies. he wants you to bite him, mark him as your own. 

matching hickies! so romantic. 

[celeste-clearwater-06]

Oh my goodness, I went absolutely *feral* for your Kitchen Window series and would love to send a request! 🐛 - tickle fights With Raph x Reader, I've always pictured Raph being far more ticklish that he lets on and absolutely refuses to admit it at all lol

OUUUH GIRL I HAVE SUCH A SOFT SPOT FOR TICKLE FICS and also I COMPLETELY agree. ticklish Raphie for the winnn

also I went just a little overboard with this one, I'm such a sucker for raph fics lmao 🩷♥️

ticklish

bayverse! Raphael x gn! reader

desc- (big red is more ticklish than he lets on)

warnings - none!

word count - 1.3k

Most of the nights the boys come home from patrol, they’re exhausted. It’s straight from keeping lookout and impressive parkour across buildings, to coming home and sleeping the day away or lounging about quietly in the lair, with their own respective hobbies.

Not tonight though. Raph knows you’re already waiting for him in his and Mikey’s room. The thought of getting to home to you, paired with something exciting in the air makes he and his brothers rowdy, entering the lair with loud whoops and jumping off of eachother like they’re spiked off of an insane amount of caffeine. The first thing Raph does when he steps inside is strip himself of the gear and weapons wrapped to his body, letting it all drop to the floor like dead weight in the huge living area.

“Aw come on Raph, we just cleaned up this morning,” Leo’s complaints are brushed away with an eye roll.

“Gotta hot date waitin for me,” he makes the promise to pick it up later (even though he most definitely will not).

Raph’s grateful Mikey’s already parked his butt on the couch starting up a game, meaning he and you have the area to yourselves. He shoves his younger brother, just to piss him off a little, and then runs away before he can retaliate.

You’re already sitting on the top bunk, laptop open and smiling at his entrance through the door.

“Hey handsome!”

There’s that gorgeous face.

“How are ya, hot stuff?”

He all but runs over and climbs up the ladder to sit himself next to you.

“I’m great. I missed you.”

Raph grins and moves to pull you up in his lap, kissing the crown of your head.

“Missed you too,” he breathes into your freshly shampooed hair with a sigh.

You hit the play button on a movie neither of you had seen before and snuggle in closer, back pressed against his plastron, and his arms snake around you in a tight hug, chin resting on your head while it hums quietly.

He’s so comfortable, and he knows you are too. But god, is it hard to sit still. Raph’s still got so much leftover energy from patrol. He hates that you’ve already settled in place, and he’s trying to find something to do with his restless hands. So he does what he knows best.

That fucker.

You know what he’s up to when his hands slide down to your hips, grazing over them with a light touch.

“Raphael…”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare…”

“I ain’t doing nothin, babe,”

He emphasizes ‘nothin’ with a poke at your ribs, making you try and leap from between his legs, but it’s too late. Raph pins you with one arm, and uses the other to attack your sides without mercy.

“RAPH, STOP.”

His shit eating grin doesn’t yield, and neither does his tickling, pulling a loud, squealing laugh from your desperately flailing body. Your weak kicking and slapping only eggs him on further, digging his fingertips further into your sides. He tickles everywhere, because unfortunately, everywhere is where you’re ticklish.

This sucks so much. He grabs at your feet, your neck, your armpits. And all you can do is scream like you’re being stabbed, paired with weak, breathless laughing. Just the size difference alone is a struggle, holding your much smaller body down onto his bed. If this weren’t such a common occurrence, you know his brother’s would be rushing in concern with your cries for help, weapons at the ready. Unfortunately, you’re all alone in this one. He finally shows you a little bit of mercy, when you manage to get out that you’re about to pee your pants.

He’s just laughing at your misfortune, even when you slap his chest in annoyance and wipe tears from your eyes.

“You shithead.”

“Yeah but I’m your shithead.” Raphael just leans back against the headboard, arms crossed with that stupid smug face.

“Whatever.”

You know he isn’t half as ticklish as you are. If that, not at all. It’s still worth the effort of jumping on him and prodding at the thick, scaled skin of his collarbone with your much tinier fingers. Your boyfriend just deadpans. “Come on, sweetheart, you know I ain’t ticklish.”

You roll your eyes, and palm his face away from yours, whining.

“You’re so meannn.”

That fact doesn’t keep you from letting him pull you back over next to him and tuck under his arm to keep watching the movie. He kisses your head again, trying to coax you from your pouting. You can practically hear his eyeroll when you don't give in.

“Have it your way, then.”

In reply, you jab a light elbow into his side. And he flinches.

Raph doesn’t flinch, ever. You’re so much smaller than he is, so you know that any hits or shoves against him are all for not, even when you don’t hold back. It’s suspicious, the way his eyes are trained extra firmly on the laptop screen and refusing to meet your squinting eyes.

“You okay?” One of your fingers hovers over the skin between his plastron and carapace.

“Y-yeah, of course- AGH!”

Raphael leaps in the air when you poke him, screaming at a pitch that you’ve never heard from him before. He sounds like a girl.

Bingo.

“I knew it!” You throw an accusing finger in his face

His eyes are pleading, head shaking, while you poise yourself like a wild cat on the hunt, ready to pounce.

“Oh, no, come on babe,” Raph swallows, “I-It’s just a sensitive spot. You don’t gotta do this.”

“Oh, yes, I absolutely do.”

Now this absolute unit can fight just about anyone off. Hell, you saw, with your own eyes, how he and his brothers sent the Kraang back to wherever he came from. He’s nothing but muscle and scar enveloping a big, gentle heart.

But when you jump on him and tickle his sides, like it’s what you were born to do, all that training is utterly useless. He’s laughing, loud, and trying to push your hands off with strength equal to a cooked spaghetti noodle. And boy, do you relish in it. Finally, you get the excitement of holding your boyfriend hostage at your fingertips, dragging them over his sides and pinning one knee down on his chest for extra measure. His laugh is boisterous, broken up with gasps for air and little ‘pleases’ and ‘baby’s’ trying to convince you to stop. It’s all fun and games, until Raphael kicks a huge leg against the mattress for support, and sending him flying off the edge of the bed and disappearing from the top bunk, pulling down one of the knitted blankets with him. You gasp.

“OH SHIT.”

You feel horrible, moving at the speed of light to peek over its edge, seeing him leaning back against his shell and laughing even more now that hes made it to the floor. Once it’s clear that the tears he’s wiping are from joy and not, you waste no time in jumping down onto the floor with him, and straddle his wide waist.

“Oh come on, sweet thing!” He’s trying to romance you away from another tickle attack. Your wide smile is paired with lidded, playful eyes and you lean in just over his snout. Raph swallows thickly. A warm sensation tingles in his gut and it makes his heart race, and pupils widen. Your fingertips are lingering over his skin.

“You better remember this exact moment” his skin shudders at the low whisper of your voice, “In case you decide to try and tickle me again.”

A quick kiss to his nose is a stark contrast to the seductive tone you put on. Raph’s face heats up. You don’t tickle him, just stand and turn, and climb back up the ladder to his bunk. His incredulous stare twists into a playful grin, watching your hips sway with each step. He throws the blanket off, and hurries up behind you with a different plan in mind ;)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

YAYYY MY FIRST REQUEST WOOHOOOO

Sorry this one took me a little while to roll out, I had to get some inspiration back in me after the kitchen window burned me out a little 😭

I HOPE THIS MET YOUR EXPECTATIONS, AND THANK YOU FOR SUCH A CUTE REQUEST, I LOVED ITTT

REBLOG, LIKE, AND REPLY IF YOU ENJOYED!!

Also, ask to join my taglist so you don't miss out on more writings like this one!! 🩷💓💕

LOVE YA BABESSSS 🩷💓💕🌸🧼🫧

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[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: random word prompts with jin, tohma, luca, kaito, alan, sho, and leo!

COMMENTS: i made tohma a magician lol. ALAN GOT ANGST IM SORRY

tagging @amaribelt for luca!!

Jin - Option

“Which one do you want?”

You stare, dumbfounded, at the mass of formal wear on the rack in your room, all different colors and shapes and sizes. Jin stands in the midst of it all, arms crossed over his chest and an expectant eyebrow raised.

“You...for me?” you point at him and then back at yourself lamely, mouth hanging open.

“Just pick one.” he says, gentle despite the ice in his tone, “I want to know what you’ll be wearing tonight so I can match.”

Oh. Right, the dance tonight. You’d almost forgotten with all of your inspector work.

“Thank you.” you murmur, hesitantly reaching out to touch them.

“It’s no problem.” he says.

Tohma - Lily

Hand in hand, you twirl.

The blue fabric of your outfit brushes against Tohma, and for once he isn’t bothering to keep his distance. His hand burns where it touches your waist, his eyes glinting even behind the monocle. You can tell he’s keeping track of your state, catching you when you slip and leading you when you stumble.

Formal dances have never been your scene, but you’ve always been willing to try for him.

When the music stops and the couples disperse, Tohma stands by your side, leading you to the refreshments table and grabbing you some water.

“You dance beautifully,” he says.

“You were a wonderful lead.” you compliment him back before gulping down the water.

His eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles, and you find yourself smiling back.

“One last thing.” he whispers, leaning in closer.

Your breath catches in your throat as his hand reaches past your ear—

And he produces a flower.

A pristine white lily, no less.

New beginnings.

You can’t help but wonder what new beginning he sees in you.

Luca - Horizon

The breeze is soft against your face as your baby hairs tickle your cheeks. The birdsong fades as the sun creeps lower behind the horizon, oranges and yellows and pinks dying in the sky. You turn to Luca and become warm when you meet his gaze, his hand over yours.

“Did you have fun today?” he asks.

He sounds so soft, like he’s telling you a secret. He almost sounds scared you’ll say no.

“Luca.” you lean over, placing your other hand overtop of his and squeezing, “I had the best time.”

He ducks his head but fails to hide his smile, boyish and tender and so him. It sets your heart ablaze and you scoot closer and closer until your thighs are touching. Your head hits his shoulder and he rests his head against you in return, almost thankful.

Reverent.

Kaito - Rational

“Kaito!” you huff, grabbing his forearms, “How dense are you?”

He stops yelling at Luca immediately, mouth hanging open at your forceful touch. His cheeks are bright pink and he’s stunned.

“Luca is not putting the moves on me! If anyone has been putting moves on anyone it's been me trying to get you to notice how into you I am!” you scold.

As you shake him violently, Luca politely excuses himself, making his way towards the stacks to give the two of you some privacy.

“Wait! Hold on, what did you say!?” Kaito shrieks, voice cracking at his shock, “You’re into me!?”

“Yes!” you sigh heavily, glaring up at him, “How dense are you?”

His lip flap some more before he can squeeze another sentence out.

“Are...are you sure? Am I dreaming!?” he fumbles for his uniform jacket, yanking the sleeve up his forearm and pinching himself violently.

“Kaito! Be gentle with yourself.” you swat his hand away.

“Oh, it’s fine, don’t worry about me, I’m sorry—Eeek!?”

You kiss where he pinched himself, and Kaito just about falls to his knees.

Oops.

Alan - Notebook

Alan doesn’t mean to scare you. It’s the last thing he wants, really.

Which is why he apologizes profusely when he manages to creep up behind you as you scribble sentence after sentence in that notebook of yours, his eyes snagging the last few words and oh they send his heart racing.

I think I’m in love with him.

He feels lighter than he has in years, but he squashes the feeling. He greets you gruffly and sits beside you, not missing the sigh of relief you let out. You cram your notebook back into your bag and he presses his lips together.

“Hey Alan!” you laugh nervously, using your elbow as support as you slump against the table, “What brings you here?”

You bring him here. Is that not obvious?

“I need to study. It’s quiet here.” he says instead.

He hopes he’s the one you’re in love with.

Sho - Infection

Sho has never looked more unimpressed with you.

You shrink away from his gaze, a tissue bundled up against your nose. You side eye him hard as you blow your nose, directing all of your animosity at him and hoping he doesn’t notice your shame.

“You don’t have to look at me like that.” he snorts.

You glare harder. He sighs.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you. Will you forgive me if I make you some soup?” he kneels by your side, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You sniffle and nod.

Sho laughs again, this time softer.

“Okay. Wait here for me, alright?” he says.

“I’m not going anywhere like this anyway...” you gripe.

Leo - Month

“Huh? Do I know what day it is?” Leo parrots your question back lamely, eyes glued to his phone.

“Yeah...? It’s sort of important.” you huff.

He hums, scrolling through various short form videos. You lean over his shoulder to recapture his attention, but he hides his phone all too quick.

That makes you suspicious.

“What are you hiding?” you tease, bumping your body against his.

He sputters and whacks you back, glaring at you.

“Can you not act like a brute for two seconds?” he hisses, “I didn’t plan this fucking party for your birthday just to get this treatment.”

You freeze. Leo keeps walking. He grumbles something under his breath and starts scrolling on his phone again.

You have to speed walk to catch back up with him.

“You planned a birthday party for me?” you ask, not quite believing what you heard.

“Of course I did.” he rolls his eyes, “I’m not stupid enough to forget something like that.”

[unpublishediary]

Why didn’t you tell me?percy jackson x injured reader. (hurt/comfort) Part 2

part one ✵ part two

✵ synopsis: after a fight on the Argo II, reader tries to hide their injury but Percy is determined to find out what’s wrong… he figures it out, but hopes he wasn’t too late

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

✵ warnings: mentions of blood, pain, loss of appetite, isolation, loss of consciousness, and leo.

MASTERLIST

Consciousness returned like a gentle tide, bringing with it the soft rhythm of nearby breathing. Your eyelids felt leaden, and when you finally managed to pry them open, the infirmary's muted light was a blessing to your sensitive eyes.

Percy was there, but not how you expected. He wasn't slumped in sleep or pacing with worry, he was just... staring. Sitting perfectly still in the chair beside your bed, his sea-green eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

His jaw was set, hands clasped so tightly together his knuckles had gone white, and you couldn't read his expression. You'd never seen him like this before, caught between anger and something else, something raw and vulnerable that made your heart twist.

When you tried to shift position, a deep ache flared through your side. His eyes tracked the movement, and something in him finally broke.

"Six hours," he said, voice low and rough. "You were out for six hours."

You tried to speak, but your throat was too dry. Without breaking his stare, he reached for the water glass, helping you take small sips. The gentleness of his movements contrasted sharply with the storm brewing in his eyes.

"Percy—" you started.

"No." The glass clicked against the side table. "You don't get to—" He stood abruptly, running both hands through his hair. "Do you have any idea what—" He cut himself off, turning away, then whirling back. "You were bleeding out. Right in front of me. And you didn't say anything."

The last words came out as a shout, echoing off the infirmary walls. You flinched, and instantly saw regret flash across his face.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I didn't want to—"

"To what? Trust me?" His voice cracked on the words. "To let me help you? Gods, when you collapsed, I thought—" He broke off again, dropping heavily back into the chair. All the anger seemed to drain out of him at once, leaving something much more fragile in its wake.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he said quietly, not meeting your eyes now. "And the worst part was knowing you didn't even think you could tell me. After everything we've..."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with things unsaid. When he finally looked up, the vulnerability in his expression took your breath away.

"I can't lose you," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "Not like that. Not ever." His hand found yours, tentative at first, then holding on like an anchor. "Next time you're hurt, you tell me. I don't care if it's a paper cut or a broken bone. Promise me."

You nodded, throat tight with emotion. "I promise."

Some of the tension finally eased from his shoulders. He didn't let go of your hand, his thumb tracing absent patterns against your skin. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, letting the quiet wash away the last echoes of anger and fear.

"Annabeth going to kill me for yelling in here," Percy finally said, a ghost of his usual smile returning.

"Probably," you agreed, feeling your own lips curve upward. "Worth it though?"

His expression softened as he looked at you, and that something deeper was back in his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Worth it."

As exhaustion started pulling you back under, you felt him shift closer, his free hand brushing hair from your forehead with impossible gentleness. The last thing you heard before sleep took you was his whispered, "I'll be right here. I promise."

The next two days in the infirmary blurred together, marked by the steady stream of visitors and Percy's constant presence. He'd only leave when someone else insisted, and even then he'd return looking like he'd barely slept, dropping back into his chair like it was the only place he wanted to be.

"You know," you said one afternoon, watching him fight to keep his eyes open, "your room probably has a more comfortable bed than that chair."

"I'm fine," he insisted, though he was practically slumped over the armrest. "Annie said you might be able to try walking today."

As if summoned, she appeared in the doorway. "Speaking of which." Annabeth crossed her arms, giving Percy a pointed look. "You're not going to be much help if you pass out from exhaustion."

"I don't pass out," Percy protested, but she was already shooing him toward the door.

"Go. Shower. Sleep. She'll still be here when you get back."

Percy hesitated at the doorway, giving you a look as you laughed at the exchange. "I promise not to do anything stupid while you're gone."

"Better not," he said softly, something warm in his eyes before he finally left.

Annabeth checked your bandages, nodding with satisfaction. "Walking should be much less painful now."

The first attempt at walking wasn't exactly graceful. Your legs felt like jelly after hours on hours in bed, and the stitches pulled uncomfortably. But Annabeth was patient, letting you lean on her as you made your way slowly across the room.

You'd barely made it halfway when familiar voices drifted in from outside.

"If you're going to hover, you might as well come in," she called out, amused.

Jason was the first through the door, followed by Leo, their faces lit up seeing you on your feet.

"Look who's vertical," Leo joked at the sight of you.

"Barely," you admitted, grateful for Annabeth’s support as your legs trembled. Jason immediately took that as his cue to support your other side.

"Baby steps," Leo said as you gave him a look, but Annabeth cut in,

“Let’s get you back to—”

"I've got her." Percy was suddenly there, like he'd materialized from thin air. His arm slipped around your waist, careful to avoid your injury as he took your weight from her. "I thought you were going to sleep," you murmured as he helped you back to bed.

"Tried. Couldn't." His voice was low enough that only you could hear. "Kept thinking..."

He didn't finish the thought, but his arm tightened slightly around you.

"Well, now that the gang's all here," Leo said once you were settled, pulling something from his bag, "movie night?"

"In the infirmary?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Come on," Percy sided with Leo. "She's been staring at these walls for days. And we'll keep it quiet." He looked toward the daughter of Athena.

Annabeth sighed the sigh of someone who knew not to fight it, "Fine.”

Once the others were gathered, everyone settled in around your bed. Including Leo perched at the foot with his laptop, Annabeth claiming the extra chair, and Percy back in his usual spot beside you. As the familiar opening credits rolled, you felt some of the lingering tension finally ease from your shoulders.

"Hey," Percy whispered, his hand weaving through you hair before finding hand in what had become a familiar gesture. "You good?"

You looked around at your friends, your family really, and squeezed his hand. "Yeah. I'm good."

His answering smile was soft, private, meant just for you. And as everyone argued about plot holes and character arcs, you realized that maybe getting hurt hadn't been the worst thing.

Sometimes it took falling apart to understand just how many people were there to help put you back together.

By the time the movie ended, you'd dozed off against Percy's shoulder, his thumb still tracing absent patterns against your skin. The last thing you registered was the quiet murmur of your friends' voices and the steady rhythm of Percy's breathing, anchoring you safely in the moment.

You were going to be okay. All of you were. And if hidden injuries caused this, maybe next time you’ll hide a paper cut.

part one ✵ part two

MASTERLIST

follow for more like this !! Thanks for reading!! And feel free to request!

[tammyu-2]

rottmnt and 2012 turtles with an s/o that’s just really good with casual street fights? Like if their friend was being bothered by someone they’d help them jump them, or if someone was talking shit they’d confront them and fight etc. Just a messy vicious street fighter, hair pulling, dragging, curb stomping etc, like those school fight videos you’d see on twitter

Ooooo this is the first rottmnt rec I've gotten niceee

ROTTMNT+2012 TMNT WITH A STREET FIGHTER S/O

Usage of swearing, a bit of gore ish descriptions bit also not, no usage of pronouns, not proofread read, kinda rushed

I'm running out of 2012 gifs so we gonna have to reuse em

LEO

2012 TMNT

You and Leo are the definition of that one meme that goes "Don't do it gurl" "I'm not gon do it gurl I was just hung about it....I did it." When he first found out about your wildcard behavior he was both impressed and deeply concerned. Impressed cause you could fight for yourself and win without a sweat, and concerned because it was not a good way to properly resolve issues.

The first time he saw you fight was honestly pretty shocking. And also scary. He was out during petrol and he found you and your friend walking into a dodgy alleyway. So his first thought was to watch from afar to see if his s/o is safe. However when one dude dared to comment on your friends weight out of random let's just say he was unconscious the second you looked his way.

Your friend was used to your behavior so just stood aside feeling comforted by the lengths you went through to protect your friends. Meanwhile you had your hair up while you beat the LIVING SHIT out of the rando on the street. Leo was dumbfounded. Sure this was a good thing to defend your friend but the way you were tossing this (probably hobo) man was absolutely insane he took some notes. Eventually he did break it up once the guy was blacked out cold and his nose was broken.

"What the hell was that?"

"I was protecting my friend. Nobody comments on my friends appearance in such a snibish manner."

"I-you.. you know what fair. Just go easy on him next time."

"...I was going easy on him-"

He soon takes note of your protective nature to the people you love and care about. Which he finds endearing it's just that he wish that you handled things more thoughtfully before breaking your hand further for the 5th time this week.

Whenever your over at the sewer he invites you to meditate with him. He feels like it would help release all the negative tension you carry around and it mostly did. He teaches you to think before you act. Which doesn't really change you completely. You think about wanting to beat up a disrespectful person and you do just that. Except you make sure there's enough said that it's justified that they nearly were knocked into unconsciousness.

ROTTMNT

He is the complete opposite. Like he is the one who provokes you into fighting. Not that he likes seeing you hurt but whenever the street fighter in you comes out he must admit it's pretty hot. Like I feel like he sorta cheers you on from the side, because he knows that you can handle yourself, with a giant sign that says "Beat their ass!!". He pretends to be against it but absolutely no body it buying it.

When he first witnessed you fight was when you were accidentally caught in the middle of a battle between the turtles and the foot clan. You managed to come out there unscathed as the entire turtle ream were in complete shock. And Leo was busy fan girling realizing you were his s/o and you were that strong.

He always watches you while you train and makes conversation with you while you do sit ups. He likes the fact that he won't need to worry about you getting hurt because your strong enough by his strandard. However if it's mythical life threatening then he will be extra clingy with you cause he'll if he's losing a super awesome s/o.

He loves it when you are in battle with him. It's like you two are a literal power couple and he adores your vibes. He loves it when he witnesses your personal fights beforehand.

"WOOO THATS MI VIDA!! BREAK THEIR LEGS!!"

DONNIE

2012 TMNT

He is scared and concerned. Poor baby is confused the first time he sees you fight. And it only turnes into concern overtime. He likes that you handle yourself and you show how much you love the people around you through acts of protectiveness. It's just that he wishes it doesn't have to do with blood on your hands.

The first time he saw you fight was when he dropped you off at your house and he was watching from a far to make sure you entered safely. However your enemy had shown up and mocked your close friend. So you dropped your belongs and fully on had a catfish with her. Like clawing and hairpulling type cat fight. Now Donnie here is convinced your a psychopath. Like he loves you so much but that shouldn't be normal right?

I mean he feels like it's cool that you aren't afraid to jump right into situations with nothing but guided faith. But he wishes you would calculated the outcomes that your stunt would create for you. He is the type to be forcibly holding you back the second he hears something insensitive come out of someone's mouth then he knows that he has 0.1 seconds to stop you from killing someone.

"No listen to me sweetie they aren't worth it!"

"LET ME AT EM I WANNA TEAR THEM APART HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT!?"

He keeps little stress balls with him just incase someone ticks you off again.

ROTTMNT

He is honestly impressed by your passion in fighting brutally and he embraces it. He doesn't care about the poor people you beat up because they should have seen it coming. Like he has no remorse. He is the type to stand there on his phone while his shell has a robotic hand sticking out waving a tiny flag.

"Woooo...!"

"Donnie why are you cheering if you aren't even watching-"

"I'm observing through the corner of my eye that counts."

So he still holds you back, but he has no effort to it. Like he just lazily put his arm in front of you that somehow holds you, but if you got any more angrier than it won't hold for a while.

He also makes little gadgets that help you fight whenever you join them in a battle. He will have like metal gloves that enhance your strength and helps you use control it better. He even makes an little scientific gym for you so that you can freely train whenever he's busy with something extremely hazardous.

RAPH

2012 TMNT

We all know where this is going right? Hell yes. He loves you for your fighting spirit and constantly agrees with you whenever you want to beat someone up. He is the type to not hold you back but push you further so he can see you fight again cause it's very impressive to him.

You guys train together and training with you two is lowkey fighting. Like you both agree not to hold back on each other so whenever you spar it's extremely dangerous to be around. He teaches you some stuff you teach him stuff in return.

He is the type to buy you little fighting equipment like a butterfly knife and such. He thinks it's cool whenever you join in on missions and that the only thing you two have in mind is busting heads at every turn.

"I say we choke the information out of him!"

"I'm 100% all for this idea."

"GUYS no."

ROTTMNT

Scared for you. Like you jump into random fights and your always set off whenever someone is disrespectful to you. He is the type to sling you over his shoulder whenever your ready to start pouncing at someone for insulting your friend.

He constantly tries to teach you the value of thinking on your actions but he unfortunately fails. So he just deals with it. He tells you off whenever he's patching up your bruised knuckles that you cause by another successful fight.

He tries to mediate things between you and another person but if it doesn't work out he just let's you lose and sits aside watching you claw at the poor person.

MIKEY

1012 TMNT

He is awestruck at your fighting skills because it's super impressive. He begs for days on end for you to teach him the sick moves you have but gets bored if you get too technical with the lessons.

He cheers you on during fights and doesn't really care about the other person. He more or less takes notes and applies it to his training so he can be as fast and as quick as you when it comes to fight.

He absolutely adores it when you come on missions. He loves watching you in action up close and he likes whenever you and him do power moves together. And although you might come out bloody and bruised froma fight her is bouncing off the walls at how you knocked the person through the wall (not literally sadly)

ROTTMNT

First time he saw you? He was traumatized for a month and scared to the bone at what your capable of when someone ticks you off. So he learns to NEVER get on your bad side at all.

You notice that he's more jumpy and he tells you why so whenever you want to fight someone you bring it away from him and then beat the living hell out of a stranger.

So whenever your training you don't go full on ballistic on him like usual and you give him a few pointers when it comes to fighting. He makes murals of you as a warrior that completes her wars and never falters. He thinks it's insanely cool just as long as he isn't witnessing it first hand is all.

I need to change my uploading schedule cause I'm failing ASLEEEP HEREEEE

Hope you guys enjoyed toodlessss

~Tammy<3

[dancingdonatello]

hiiii!! I really like your works and I wanted to know if you could write the rise turtles where their crush meets their future selves and their crush is giving all their attention to the future versions. They get jealous and some time after the future versions leave, they confess-

Sorry if you've already got this before!! And thanks for reading this :3

rise tmnt x reader

Raph pouted to himself as you touched all the scars and spikes of his future self. Sure, it was cool to see he got even bigger, even spikier, and even cooler in the next few years, but it wasn’t as nice to watch you fawn all over him.

How could he even convince himself he was better than his future self? They looked nearly identical but Raph was missing an eye. So he was younger, less experienced, and minus an eye. Clearly, he was losing this make believe battle.

When you passed him, Raph made sure to grab you and hold you against his side. You looked up at him in surprise but he looked away, pretending it wasn’t out of character for him to manhandle you. He risked a glance at his future self and looked away embarrassed at the knowing look. Ugh.

No way he could hide his crush any longer from you.

Leo rolled his eyes as his future self recounted yet another tale of saving a baby from a Kraang monster. You ate it up, eyes shining up at future Leo with adoration.

Leo may have started the invasion, but he also managed to stop it before it could kill all of humanity. So, ha! Future Leo had failed… It was weird to bully himself.

Whatever. He continued to glare at himself, tapping his fingers impatiently. You and him were supposed to go out to eat in two-ish minutes and yet you were still chatting it up with him. He’d have to make sure by the end of that day that you were his and his alone. No future version of himself included.

He crushed up a napkin in front of him and threw it at his future self’s forehead. The larger turtle glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at him. He grabbed you, opened a portal, and took you far, far away from the other turtle. Finally, he was alone with you. So what if he was jealous of himself? He was a looker, that’s for sure.

Did you have to feel up his muscles so obviously? Donnie glowered from a distance, arms crossed and posture tense. And you were talking about all of his tech that he made. Well, Donnie could probably do better than that old turtle could do in a wasteland. Why weren’t you talking to him instead?

Not long after the future Donatello gets distracted by something Mikey is doing, Donnie uses a metal claw to drag you away into his more private lab. “You’re allowed to touch only me.” He glared down at you while you blinked at him innocently, clueless.

“I’m the only one allowed to touch you?” He slapped a hand to his face. “Oh!” Your eyes gleamed. “Were you jealous?”

“No,” he grumbled, leaning away from you as you tried to press close to his face. “I could care less about you.”

“So you COULD care less? So you do?” He froze at his mistake as you joyfully giggled.

Mikey bit at his lip, watching anxiously as you ‘ooh’ed and ‘aw’ed over future him’s magic. Come on! Future him totally knew what he was doing at this point. He knew Mikey couldn’t do any of that cool stuff.

He stood off to the side dejectedly as you finally returned to his side. He’d probably learn all of those eventually, but he couldn’t help but still feel like an idiot who didn’t know how to do it just yet. He looked at you with sad puppy eyes. “You still think I’m cool, right?”

“Of course? You’re the same person?” You were confused. He pouted.

“You don’t love him more than me?”

“Mikey… you’re a lot cuter than your future self.” You stared at future Mikey who had somehow grown hair and then balded. Unlucky, very unlucky. “Just promise me you won’t grow hair.”

“Deal!” He hugged you tight and picked you up, dragging you away from his future self.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. 🥺(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)

Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol

Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !

Leonardo:

• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to

• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him

• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."

• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father

• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."

• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside

• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation

Michelangelo:

• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual

• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"

• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home

• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills

• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)

• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.

• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey

• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"

• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)

Donatello:

• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."

• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)

• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time

• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate

• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers

• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it

• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"

Raphael:

• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.

• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go

• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."

• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack

• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh

• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)

[hypnzo]

A New Year's Special ; hold onto me

Warning !! There might be some possible mischaracterization, these are just headcanons so please don't think of it as "accurate" in any way. English is not my first language !!

Leo Valdez would craft a specific firework to your liking. He'd make the fireworks explode in your favorite color, but cause of his heritage, he'll make it a little bit more over the top. If you have a specific request such as to make a flower appear in the fireworks, he'll assure you it is exactly what you'll see in the midnight sky. Whatever your request is, he'll make sure to achieve it to your liking!

Leo Valdez, a true romantic at heart, would watch the fireworks with you, grinning at his work, while he feels a warm tug on his heart whenever he sees you smiling at the night sky. Smiling, he pulls you in close, "can I?” while he glances at your lips and up to your eyes. The moment you nodded, he connected his lips to yours while the fireworks took off.

Percy Jackson would seem to be a bit more focused—not at the fireworks, but towards you! As the fireworks took off, he spared it a glance, but his entire focus was on you. While you mutter out about how pretty the fireworks are, he'd smile to himself, "...yeah, very pretty,” he manages to whisper while looking at you. He knew to himself that he wasn't talking about the fireworks.

Percy Jackson would hold your hand while the fireworks exploded into the sky. Not that there was any particular reason, he wasn't afraid of the noises it causes! He states that he just loves you—which is true, but it was a bit clear that he just wanted to feel your warmth and to ground himself that you're still there with him.

Piper McLean would light up some sparklers with you while you both waved it into the sky. She has practically carved it into her mind about how much her heart melted when she saw the way your face glowed near the sparkler. The light captured your features just right enough for her to memorize.

Piper McLean would help you style up your hair if you wanted to dress up for this occasion. “Do you prefer this or this one? Regardless of your choice, you'd look nice anyway, though,” she assures you while her fingers run through your hair.

Annabeth Chase would tell you all about the fireworks that the Hephaestus kids made which are now bombing the sky into a moving image, showing heroes from past ancient greece and greek battles. Though mostly done in 4th of july, the new year was no exception, of course!

Annabeth Chase would find herself to be staring at you mostly rather than the fireworks. If she was to be caught, she'd focus back on the fireworks, “I don't know what you're talking about,” but the way the corner of her lips quirked up into a small smile told you everything you needed to know.

Have a request? Feel free to send one in!

[girlkisser13]

cool about it

"but i'm trying to forget about it" "feeling like i'm breaking a sweat about it" "wishing you would kindly get out of my head about it" "telling myself one day i'll forget about it" "knowing that it probably isn't true"

pairings: leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings/tags: fluff with a hint of angst. best friend leo.

summary: "if you even feel half the way i do about you..."

leo had always been good at fixing things. mending broken gadgets and constructing new inventions from mere scraps was second nature to him. but right now, as the morning sun filtered through the windows of cabin 9, casting long shadows on his half-finished projects, leo was wrestling with something he couldn’t fix, couldn’t build, couldn’t even figure out.

he hadn’t slept. not even a wink. his eyes stung from staying up, but that wasn’t the worst part. the worst part was that every time he closed his eyes, he could see last night. the faint glow of the fire in bunker 9. the hum of his latest invention. and then you, standing in front of him, close enough to touch, holding a plate of food with a worried look in your eyes because he’d skipped dinner. again.

his fingers drummed against the workbench, trying to distract himself. anything to take his mind off the kiss. that kiss. he couldn’t stop replaying it. the way you’d looked at him, concerned and sweet. how he’d leaned in, almost as if pulled by some invisible force, his lips meeting yours without a second thought. it had been quick, just a soft press, but it was enough to set his heart racing. and when he pulled away, your sibling had come looking for you, breaking the moment, and leo had been left standing there, dazed, as you were dragged away to help with some urgent task.

now, as the sunlight crept into the corners of the cabin, leo wished he could just flip a switch in his brain and shut down these thoughts. maybe you’d been surprised. maybe you’d wanted him to kiss you. or maybe— more likely— you hadn’t. maybe you were just being nice, and he’d gone and made everything awkward. the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it was the latter. you were probably just being a good friend, and he’d ruined everything.

"idiot," he muttered to himself, raking a hand through his curly hair. "she’s your best friend. what were you thinking?"

he grabbed a wrench and turned back to his project, something half-finished that looked like a mechanical bird. he tightened a few bolts, but his thoughts kept wandering back to you. he had to talk to you. he had to apologize before this thing went any further, before he lost you for good. he took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his jeans, and scribbled a quick note on a piece of scrap paper.

meet me at bunker 9. please? –leo

at breakfast, he spotted you sitting with your siblings. you were laughing at something one of them said, looking completely normal, as if nothing had happened. as if he hadn’t kissed you. his heart pounded as he walked past your table and slipped the note into your hand. you looked up, surprised, but he was already turning away, heading for the door.

you showed up at bunker 9 about an hour later. he was waiting, nervously pacing back and forth. when he saw you step through the door, he stopped and stood there, unsure of how to begin. you looked as calm and collected as ever, but leo knew you well enough to see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

"you wanted to see me?" you asked, closing the door behind you. the bunker was quiet except for the soft whir of a cooling fan and the faint crackling of his project on the workbench.

he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "yeah, i… i wanted to talk to you about last night," he finally managed. "i, uh… i’m really sorry. for kissing you, i mean. i wasn’t thinking. i know you probably didn’t want that, and… i just… i’m sorry."

your expression didn’t change, but he could see your hands tense slightly at your sides. he felt his heart sink. of course. you were going to tell him that it was a mistake, that he’d crossed a line.

"leo," you said softly. "it’s okay. i think we just got caught up in the moment. you were tired, and i probably looked like i needed kissing or something."

his stomach twisted. "so, you don’t…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

you offered a small smile. "leo, you had been working all day. it’s not surprising if you were feeling a little out of it."

he nodded, his heart heavy. he knew you were letting him down gently, trying to keep the peace. that was just like you. always thinking of others, even when it hurt.

a silence stretched between you, awkward and heavy. you shifted slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" you asked, your voice sounding casual. but he could hear the faint trace of hope in your tone, and it almost broke his heart. you wanted him to say more, to give you some reason to stay. but he couldn’t do that. not when he was sure he’d already messed everything up.

"yeah," he said, forcing himself to nod. "that’s all. i just… i know you have a lot to do with it being cabin inspection day and all. you should probably go."

you hesitated, looking like you wanted to say something, but then you nodded. "right. i should get going." you turned to leave, and he watched you walk away, his heart aching with each step you took.

and then, just as you reached the door, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. "wait!" he called out, rushing forward. you stopped, turning back to face him, your eyes wide with surprise.

he grabbed your hand, pulling you back toward him. before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned in and kissed you again. this time, it wasn’t a mistake. it wasn’t some impulsive action he couldn’t control. this time, he knew exactly what he was doing. he felt you tense for a second, then relax against him, your hands resting on his shoulders.

when he pulled away, he kept his face close to yours, his forehead touching yours. "i meant it," he whispered, his voice shaky. "i meant to kiss you. both times."

you looked up at him, searching his eyes. "what?"

he took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "i’ve been trying to be cool about it, you know? i’ve tried to act like it’s not a big deal, like it’s just whatever, but it is. i haven’t been able to get that kiss out of my head. i can’t stop thinking about you, about us. i know it’s stupid, and i know i should just let it go, but… i can’t."

you felt your heart racing at his words, still processing everything he was saying. you searched his eyes for clarity. "leo, what are you saying?"

he took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "i'm saying that i’ve been in love with you since... i don't know. since forever, i guess. since pretty much the moment i saw you. you're the best friend i've ever had, and i know i don't deserve you, but... if you even feel half the way that i do..."

you were silent for a moment, and his heart sank. he was about to pull away, to let you go and tell you it was okay if you didn’t feel the same. but then you spoke.

"i don’t," you said, and his world stopped. he felt like he was falling, everything crashing down around him.

but then you smiled, a soft, shy smile that made his heart skip a beat. "i don’t feel half the way you do, leo," you continued, your voice trembling. "i feel it ten times more."

his eyes widened, hope flooding through him. "you… you mean that?"

you nodded. "i mean it, leo. i've been in love with you for so long, but i never thought you’d feel the same way."

he laughed, the sound full of relief and joy. "gods, we’re a couple of idiots, aren’t we?"

you laughed too, and his heart soared at the sound. he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his head resting on top of yours. he could feel your heartbeat against his chest, strong and steady, matching his own.

"i’m still sorry for last night," he murmured into your hair. "not for kissing you, but for not saying this sooner."

you pulled back, looking up at him with a smile. "well, you’re saying it now. that’s what matters."

he grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. he kissed you again, and this time, he knew it wasn’t a mistake. this time, it was real.