#ideas de barbie
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i was tagged by the biblically accurate angels @cordiallyfuturedwight and @aprylynn for the september round up <33
i'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this combination of tracks but i'm simply not privy to it. tagging favs if you fancy it: @thvinyl @btscontentenjoyer @spicyclematis @hoseeok @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @eoieopda MWAH and always @monismochi !!!!!!!
#thoughts and/or feelings (delete as appropriate) as follows:#say you'll be there - and what can i say? it's a spice world and we're just living in it#de selby pt.2 - still has me by the throat. must be the domnhall gleeson of it all#pusherman - love love love but genuinely not a single idea as to where this one came from#talk tonight - potentially one of the dreariest oasis tracks and that's saying something#(i'm a manc so i can say this without risk of being clotheslined by a gallagher in town)#growing sideways - lord forgive me but i do believe it is the season of the sticks. i'm terrified that i might never have met me???#500 psychic damage#teardrop - cover of the century. exceptional. no notes#don't let me get me - because missundaztood is an album and a half#linger - and i will be letting it!!!!! fuck#for us - she's the stand out for me. though don't worry i have already developed an unhealthy obsession with the entire album#american teenager - please for the love of god give ethel cain a chance if you haven't already. no one else is doing it like this#as for the artists. paolo nutini making a strong bid this month. i will always have feelings for you#also something something about every fleetwood mac girlie also being an abba girlie. can't fault that logic.#unrelated i need that stevie nicks barbie so bad i don't know what i'll do#tag#receiptify#mwah mwah mwah#thanks for coming <33
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VoicePlay Loop 1 - Watch Us Arrange A Song! | "Choose Your Fighter" (aca...
This is so cool! Go give Cesar some love on this video for his super creative idea. I’d love to see some more of these outside-the-box videos from VP!
#youtube#voiceplay#geoff castellucci#layne stein#eli jacobson#cesar de la rosa#vp loop#looping#ava max#barbie#cesar coming out with some great new ideas
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Voilà le ménage de printemps de Barbie a bien commencé, tout est bien rangé et propre.
#ménage de printemps#barbie#barbie world#barbie dolls#barbie photography#barbie mattel#dolls#barbie outfit#fashion dolls#doll aesthetic#diy#my dolls#doll diy#dolls house#doll diorama#barbie house#diy ideas#doll photography#doll life
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I DONT KNOW WHAT TO GET MY FRIEND FOR HER PARTY TODAY
#its so last min of me but aarggh#i have no idea what to get her#i think ill make her a bracelet wait actually im gonna try to buy her a ticket for the barbie movie aarghedh idkkk#des rambles
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# LA TERCERA PRUEBA, ETAPA UNO. PARTICIPANTES: taddeo polat ( @t4dlat ) y fiona zuloaga. UBICACIÓN: piso uno, aula cuatro.
fiona no ofreció ningún titubeo al momento de girar el picaporte, lo hizo derrochando aires despreocupados, con el brazo de taddeo aún rodeando sus hombros y una sonrisa tensando sus labios. antes de adentrarse al salón, sin embargo, giró su cuello para observar al de raíces turcas con cierto enigma danzando en su mirada. ‘ ¿quieres pasar tú primero o ya estás muerto de miedo? ’ tanteó, aunque sorna centelló en su voz.
#* ⠀ / ⠀ 𝑩𝑼𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑹𝑨 ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ saquemo' un par de foto' mientras colgas tu moto con esta barbie de copiloto ⠀* ⠀ social.#no me preguntes qué es esto xq ni idea
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Acabo de acordarme que es navidad, lo siento no hacemos dibujos navideños aquí.
#aunque amo las luces de navidad#y los colores metalicos#no sé si tuvieron alguna vez esas guirnaldas de chocolates envueltos en papel de regalo de colores rojo#verde azul y dorado#eran hermosos#me recordaban a barbie cascanueces#la idea de un arbol de navidad lleno de guinarldas hechas de dulce#de chica era como lo más bello que podía exisistir#divagando
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for the bully!Max, Leclerc!Reader and chubby!reader simps in my requests…I heard you and I’m here to deliver 😼😼 enjoy!!
You Belong To Me ♥️
Bully!Max Verstappen x Chubby!Leclerc!Reader
say it louder, say it louder, who’s gonna love you like me (who’s gonna fuck you like me?)
Growing up as the youngest daughter in the Leclerc family, you’d had a childhood crush on your brother’s rival and friend, Max. But when you grew older he turned into your worst nightmare, always bullying you. You’ve been able to avoid him for the last 5 years - but now with your new engineer job on the paddock, you can’t hide from Max any longer…and can’t stop the feelings you still have for him.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom/sub, dark! Max who bullies innocent virgin!reader, dub con, brainwashing, bimbofication, somno, yk all the good shit, WC 9k 😨
You shiver as you walk into your family’s childhood vacation home along the Cote de Azure, despite the summer heat. It’s been a long time since you’d visited this house. Even though your Mama and three older brothers came by often, looking for a weekend break from their busy lives or a romantic getaway with gorgeous girlfriends, you’d always turn down their offers to join once you were in college. They'd always be confused at your hesitance - but then again, they don't know just how many bittersweet memories this home holds for you. You’d grown up here in the summers, the youngest daughter of the famous Monegasque Leclerc family. Racing was in your bloodline, and your beloved Papa had instilled his passion into all of his children before he’d passed away.
Your older brothers, who were all handsome, tall and athletic, made natural drivers right from childhood and easily progressed through the karting competitions. Meanwhile, you were the youngest and the only daughter, and were raised in a far gentler manner as the apple of your family’s eye, their cute bunny as they’d nicknamed you, after your favourite childhood pet. In comparison to your brothers who ran around outdoors, you were more shy, preferring to be left with your books and colouring pencils in the safety of the patio.
Of course, with all your differences, there had been the healthy sibling rivalry of brothers vs sister growing up. They hated being forced to play house or pose for your scribbly drawings (not Arthur though - even at age 5 you were convinced he secretly loved when you made him join the Barbie tea party.) And in turn, you'd alway complain when you’d be dragged to cheer on Charles from the sidelines as he won his karting competitions. You would sulk, childishly annoyed at your parent’s attention shifting from you to their middle son’s rapidly growing racing career.
But it all changed when Charles raced against Max Verstappen for the first time at age 11. The blonde Dutchman aggravated your competitive older brother immediately with his aggressive driving tactics. You’d heard Cha, as you’d been calling him since you were little, furiously ranting about the illegal moves Max had been pulling and your 7 year old brain tuned it all out. But when you first saw the mysterious blonde in question, your heart fluttered with a feeling you’d never felt before and a bright blush overtook your chubby cheeks.
You immediately became infatuated with the older boy, who was far nicer to you than Charles had been back then. Your middle brother's idea of “sibling time” involving hiding beetles in your bed and laughing when you screamed. So it became a common sight to see you wandering after Max instead of being by your family’s side, tugging on his shirt sleeve and showing him the racecar drawings you’d made. Max always entertained you, ruffing your hair and smiling back toothily, telling you that you were a much better artist than his little sis Victoria.
You’d beam from the praise, only leaving Max’s side when his scary father Jos would approach and eye you with disdain. You scampered back to your family, to your older brothers who accused you of the worst crime imaginable to the loyal Leclerc blood - exchanging racing strategies with the enemy Dutch. Your mother had hit all three sons on the back of the head and told them they could learn a thing or two about treating Bunny with respect like that cute boy Max did.
As you grew older, your pigtails were replaced with cute pins and headbands in an effort to look pretty whenever Max would come around to your summer home. By now, his rivalry with Charles had turned into a reluctant "frenemies who also spent summers together to discuss racing". You'd get to be with Max all day, swimming in the turquoise ocean and eating sweet stroopwafel that he always brought. An in the evenings, the two car-obsessed 14 year olds would be arguing about overtaking strategies at your family’s dining table. You’d pout, childishly wanting attention at age 11, interrupting whatever stupid point you're sure Charles was making to bat your eyelashes at your guest. Holding up your now detailed drawings of a black kart, you asked Maxie - as you’d taken to calling him - if he liked your recreation of his.
He’d grinned at you, still boyishly handsome and in the lanky phase of growing up as he told you he loved it, should he sign his autograph on it? with that Dutch accent you adored. Charles watched your shenanigans with a roll of his eyes, snidely muttering (in French, thank god) that the annoying little bunny wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding her crush on the enemy Dutch. You flushed, frantically checking to make sure Max hadn’t been able to understand, and had run off with a red face to tearfully rat him out to your Mama. Unlike Charles, she found your crush on Max rather cute, and always encouraged you to give your favourite ribbons and bows to Max for a good luck charm the way you did with your brothers pre-race (Traitor, teen Arthur and Charles mouthed at you).
She eyed you knowingly when you do your best to avoid blushing as you grew older still, this time seeing Max when you were 14 and him 17 with an impressive winning streak in the Junior Redbull team. He’d started to develop into his tall 6 foot frame now, towering over your tiny 5”2 frame like your brothers did. What, no drawing of a racecar for me to sign Bunny? he gently teased, leaning down so you could shyly kiss both of his cheeks - a Monegasque tradition Max had become accustomed to from your family. You stuttered out your no, of course not, you were too old for that now! making him laugh at how cute you looked before walking off. Arthur watches the exchange with a smirk, elbowing Cha when he emerges from the changing rooms. Your middle brother’s frenemy status with Max was more of a friendship these days, and his earlier accusations of you being a traitor had turned into something much more annoying. Max and Bunny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G-
But by the time you turned 16, your Maxie changed from the sweet, laughing boy you’d always trusted into someone darker, someone who you felt scared of at times. You were at the age where you now wanted Max as your boyfriend, naively thinking that the 19 year old driver would return your affections when he’d attended your Sweet 16th. You’d spent hours getting ready, styling your long curly hair and wearing a cute dress all your friends had insisted you would be irresistible in (but had almost given your older brothers an aneurysm). It was tight and short, and although you'd always been a chubby kid, you feel a self conscious of the new plush curves around your hips and chest, in comparison to your older brothers who now looked very handsome and muscular.
You’d lit up when you saw Max across the fancy yacht club, flooded with all your schoolmates and family friends who’d come to celebrate the baby Leclerc’s birthday. He'd looked so handsome, his muscular frame now filled out and catching the eye of many girls. There was a devilishness in his smile that came with the confidence of being the youngest F1 driver in history. Lately, your innocent crush had started to drift towards naughtier, dirtier fantasies about what Max’s large hands and lips would feel like on you, if he snuck into your bedroom in the middle of the night and told you he loved you as you willingly gave him your first kiss.
But all your naive hopes come crashing down when you see a slim, sexy blonde approach Max where he’s talking to Charles intently, drinking a beer. His hand squeezes her ass in a familiar motion as she wraps her arms around him, leaning up to give him a kiss. You quickly turn around in the crowd before you can be seen, heartbroken, and drown yourself in blurred conversations and slices of birthday cake. Max doesn’t even come to wish you happy birthday like he normally did, always with a special gift in hand. At some point in the night you’re talking to Charles and try to subtly ask who that blonde girl with Max had been. Your older brother gives you an amused look, asking if you still had your silly little childhood crush on Max? You adamantly deny it, and he smirks and tells you that was Giana, Max’s girlfriend and an Italian model. You’re upset, of course, but thankfully he changes the topic to tell you how Max had recommended his old F2 seat go to Charles, wasn’t that amazing Bunny? You nod mutedly, having become used to Cha being less and less aware of anything that went on outside his racing career these days.
After a sneaky shot of tequila your friend gave you, you have the courage to go approach Max. His girlfriend is still at his side and raises an eyebrow, pointedly glancing down at your figure to make it clear what she thought of your curvier body. What shocks you, though, is seeing an annoyed look on Max’s face as well, as he demands to know why you’re interrupting, couldn’t you see he was busy? You’ve never heard him speak like that and are confused, asking him why he’s being so mean, did I do something wrong, Max-
He cuts you off, smirking as he asks why you weren’t calling him Maxie anymore. The girl laughs at that, saying no way, she’s such a kid, she calls you that? A few of your older schoolmates have wandered over, curious to see what was going on and you flush from the embarrassment of having Max treat you like this in front of your friends.
From then on, Max just became crueler and crueler to you. It’s like he enjoyed seeing how you'd react, your cute chubby cheeks darkening with embarrassment as you avoided his gaze. Once he'd officially moved to Monaco, you ran into him everywhere as him and Charles formed a close friendship and would often hang out. Max would always time his harsh remarks just when your brother wasn't in earshot. He'd mock you about everything, from your childish appearance, to your innocently conservative outfits, your nerdy perfect grades, your animated Italian gestures and accent which he'd always seemed to adore growing up. Your popularity in school plummeted as your friends watched the talented F1 driver roll his eyes and mutter how pathethic you were when he heard you were reading romantic novels on Friday night instead of partying, saying the only reason you had any friends was because of your talented brother’s fame. Your family had no idea what was going on - as Max’s bullying started the same time your Papa becomes unwell and landed in hospital. Your brothers thought the change in your sweet demeanour was because of your sadness for your father.
If only they knew the real culprit was right under their noses.
It seemed there was nothing teen Max enjoyed more than seeing your big brown doe eyes welling up with tears. He’d use everything you told him growing up against you, making gossip and rumours fly around your school constantly. Any guy who tried to talk to you was assumed to be doing it as a dare. The first few years of high school had been like hell - the only thing making it bearable being your perfect grades and promising future. Unlike your older brothers who were natural sportsmen, you were the opposite and excelled at academics, and you’d used it to get a full ride scholarship at a prestigious engineering course in the UK.
That’s what you reminded yourself to get you through a graduation party at the end of high school. You'd been reluctantly dragged by the small group of friends you’d thankfully kept despite all the bullying and rumours. In true Monaco trust fund kid fashion, the party was hosted on one of your schoolmates' yacht, with many juniors and older siblings tagging along as well. Towards the end of high school, Max’s bullying was less common as he became busier with his racing - something Charles had become fully invested in with his new F1 Alfa Romeo seat. And you’d grown up, too, maturing into your curves and pretty dark Italian features, catching the eye of a few boys in your year.
It seemed you’d been briefly relieved of your duties of being a social pariah when you're yanked into a circle of already wasted partygoers playing 7 minutes in heaven. But when your friend pulled out your name with a drunken flush, you could only widen your eyes in horror when the next name she announces was one you'd never expected - Max.
And then you see him, on the other side of the deck, leaning against the railing and ignoring the girls trying to speak to him as his ice blue eyes intently watch you. You squeaked out your protests, begging your friend to try again, but it's hopeless when the circle begins chanting your name and Max’s. Giving up, you turned around and ran through the crowd, trying to reach the ramp and get off the boat -
-when a large, warm hand wrapped around your waist and easily pulled you into a broad chest. Before you knew it, you're in a tiny, dark storage room, with Max Verstappen blocking the door and smirking down at you. Your naive heart still ached with conflicting feelings for Max, who was your childhood knight in shining armour, who always stood up for you when your older brothers ganged up on you, always knew how to make you laugh when you were crying from their teasing. But this was also the same Max who made your high school life hell, had teased you mercilessly behind your brother’s back, and used all the secrets you'd trusted him with against you. He'd make you look like a childish little girl in front of your effortlessly cool, rich peers. This reminder brought you back to your senses and you quietly but firmly ask him to let me out.
He hadn’t let you leave, of course, instead leaning down until he was whispering in your ear with his deep voice that still send shivers down your spine, mockingly asking if you’d had your first kiss yet or if you're still the same stuck up Leclerc who thinks she's too good to be fucked by anyone here?
Heart racing furiously from nervousness, you mumble out that you hadn’t had your first kiss, avoiding his ice cold eyes as he chuckled. You know his game well enough by now to understand he wouldn’t let you go until he gets his answer. You hated the boy you once hoped to give your first kiss to. He’d ruined your reputation beyond repair, had made it so no guy at school would touch you even if they found you pretty.
Well, apparently except for one boy.
Turns out Max himself had no issues laying his hands on you, hidden in the darkness of the storeroom. His hands had pushed you up against the wall, your face cutely scrunched up in confusion, and then your jaw almost dropped in shock when he pressed his lips to your ear. He huskily whispered how pretty you looked, how he’d hated the way boys had been checking you out all night. They didn’t know you’d already promised to marry Max when you were little, yeah Bunny?
And then he’d captured the surprised gasp you let out, shocked that he’d remembered your childhood wish to be his vrouw, his wife, when he leans down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss against your soft lips. When he pulled back, his face remaining close to yours, your brown doe eyes looked into his with whirling confusion and hurt - but also desire flickering in them. And then you’d both gotten lost in another kiss, then another, and then Max being Max had starting running his hands all over your body. Squeezing his hand into your juicy ass to make you shyly moan, and then greedily slipping his tongue inside.
That’s how everyone had found you when they yanked the door open, with Max having you moaning his name, one hand sliding up your skirt and the other running over your tits. The darkness in his gaze returns as he pulled back and left you leaning against the wall with wobbly legs. He laughed as he strode off the party, saying it’d been so easy to get you to beg for him like a little slut, who would’ve guessed with your innocent appearance?
You couldn’t wait to graduate high school and go to university after that. And it had been amazing, moving far away from Monte Carlo. No one knew who you were or how deep your history with world famous athletes like Charles or Max went. You reinvented yourself, becoming confident after months of therapy and your intelligence becoming something you were admired for instead of teased. You’d though that was the end of it, that you’d never have to be humiliated or have your heart broken by Max Verstappen again. Until 5 years later when you got a call from Lorenzo asking you to come home.
With the intimate engagement party of your oldest brother being held at your family’s scenic vacation home, you’d been unable to refuse. You knew Max was going to be there, but you’d taken a deep breath and reminded yourself that things were different now. You were 22, a qualified engineer and had used your own hard work to get a job within the Alpine garage - even using your mother’s maiden name as your last name because you wanted to prove it was because of your skill, not connections. Charles had been bewildered, begging you to please come work at Ferrari, bebe but you’d been adamant about needing to prove your own worth. You loved your family, and were so happy for Cha’s success as your relationship with your brothers blossomed into a close, loyal one as adults. It had always been your father’s dream to see him in the red suit. It was unbelievable to have millions of Tifosi literally worship your older brother - and their adoration extended to you, his sweet younger sister Bunny. You make rare appearances on the paddock but were hailed as a good luck charm when you did, Tifosi cheering when you affectionally kiss your brother on both cheeks and tie a hair ribbon to his suit. You always made sure to stay well away from the Redbull garage.
And you’d become radiant in your beauty, too, in pretty, flattering dresses and fitted miniskirts that showed off your soft stomach and thighs, your generous cleavage and juicy ass. Full, lush lips and long dark curls framed your sweetheart face and you’d been finally been able to put makeup on without fear of being mocked. A few guys had tried to ask you out in college, but you hadn’t been quite there yet in your confidence to say yes. Max had seemed to put you off all men, for now at least….and your protective Italian brothers seemed to make it their personal mission to protect your honour and integrity. Very dramatic, you’d said to them with a fond roll of your eyes, secretly enjoying how they cared for you despite their luxurious celebrity lifestyles. So you’d ended up still being a virgin at your college graduation, wanting to save it for the man you fell in love with.
You reminded yourself of all that you had to offer, of how you weren’t the same nerdy little girl who was going to be bullied, when you heard Max would be joining your family prior to the engagement party. The night before he was meant to arrive, you’d been overthinking and anxiously wringing your fingers so hard that your whole family had started demanding to know what was troubling you. After giving them some weak excuse about being worried about your new job, you'd gone to read one of your romance novels by the pool after dinner to destress. You had ended up falling asleep under the stars, your tired mind eager to rest.
You didn’t know the man you were desperately hoping to avoid had landed a night earlier with his private jet. When he’d greeted your middle brother late in the night, saying he would crash for now and greet everyone properly in the morning when they were awake, Charles had gone to bed and the last remaining light of the house switched off. Only the silver moonlight illuminated your pretty face and unsuspecting figure when Max Verstappen stepped outside his bedroom's French doors, hoping to cool off - but instead felt his blood pumping heatedly at the sight of you.
Honestly, he hadn't expected to see you for years as you'd understandably fled to the other side of the continent the second you had the change to escape. You’d turned from a nervous, cute schoolgirl into a gorgeous woman, and his intense gaze hungrily roams over your peaceful sleeping body. He was going to ruin you, he thinks wickedly, gently stroking your still chubby cheeks that subconsciously leaned into his touch.
He decided to give you one last night of quiet as he left you in deep sleep, walking back inside with dark desire brewing. The childish bully he’d been as an angry teen, desperate to prove himself, was gone. He was now a thrice proven world champion, a millionaire, a man who’d been with dozens of women but found only one he still wanted through it all. And it was none other than his racing rival's sweet younger sister, the one who'd stayed loyal to him since she was little. He was ready to make you his, whether you still wanted him or not.
When you finally saw him at breakfast the next morning you had been suspicious at his pleasant behaviour, greeting you like he would any family friend and asking how college had treated you. Your whole body had gone stiff, eyes distrustfully following his every move. You’d been forced to respond back politely as your family watched you, your mum still grinning as she rooted for her daughter to become romantically involved with her childhood crush. If only your family knew how much Max tormented you, they’d never let him get within 10km of you again. But to your surprise, Max kept up his kind manner even when your family would be out of the room, laughing and smiling easily at you and somehow bringing confusing butterflies back to swirl in your stomach. After the week he'd spent at your vacation home, you'd naively started to think maybe he had changed. Maybe the five years away had made him mature into the charming, funny driver you'd seen in numerous interviews and ads, being unable to avoid his far reaching fame.
But it turned out his respectful behaviour, all through the engagement celebrations and the after party, only served as a ploy to get you to foolishly lower your guard. Max had greedily collected up all the information he’d missed over the years, about what your likes and dislikes were now, about how you’d gotten a job with your own means at the F1 paddock. And then he casually informed you over dinner that he’d spoken to Horner who was coincidentally looking for a mechanical engineer - and had wanted to interview you after seeing your resume. Your family had been ecstatic at a job for you in a prestigious garage, despite their blood thirsty Ferrari loyalty. Even Cha had caught you after dinner, telling you that it was thoughtful of Max to look out for you, that as your big brother he’d feel so much better if you were working in a winning team’s garage and being protected by Max, instead of alone in a poorly performing team.
You were so confused, couldn’t understand why Max was trying to get involved - and you told him so that night, hushed angry whispers in the hallway after everyone had gone to bed. He’d smirked, leaning down to press you into the wall, saying Wasn’t it obvious Bunny? I want you.
Your eyes widened in shock, and you stammered out your confusions, asking him why he would say such a thing, only to feel his lips brushing your ear. His deep voice murmured his explanation of how his father didn't think Max had been focused enough when he was younger, had wanted him to throw all distractions to the side...including you. I'm a three time world champion now, Max said with a cocky grin. It doesn't matter what he says anymore, I do what I want.
Although his initial words about how the change in his behaviour being due to his controlling father sent a pang of empathy through you, you hadn't come this far to just give in. You pushed him off you with all your might, only being able to get a couple of inches as you glared and said you're delusional, Max, if you think I'd ever forgive you. Much less want you back after the hell you put me through. Storming off, you naively thought that was the end of it, that Max would back off once he saw you weren't the same lovesick girl he could toy with anymore. Not gonna call me Maxie anymore? he teases at your retreating back.
You should have known Max always got what he wanted, because he finds his way into your bedroom later that night. It was stupid to not lock your room because you think he wouldn't lay a hand on you when under the same roof as your brothers. Softly closing the door behind him, Max's dark gaze took in your curvy, sleeping figure in your childhood room. It was still decorated with your younger self's belongings as your Mama had always wanted you to feel welcome - but you had never come back after graduating. So you slept against a large plushie Bunny, cutely dressed in a pink matching shorts and camisole set. The twisted desire to corrupt the sleeping beauty in front of him rushes to Max's head - and his hardening cock- and he doesn't hesitate to slowly run his large palms over your body. He teasingly slides one hand up your sheer camisole to graze your large tits and the other down your shorts, to lightly toy with your pussy through cotton panties. The sweet dream you'd been having started to turn into a dirty one from the stimulation, and you instinctively grind back against the warm, hard body pressed into your back as you moan sleepily.Your dream is getting more and more heated as Max plays with your sensitive body, and only when you’re starting to drench your panties with slick do your eyes hazily blink open. Your adorably confused expression turns him on even more as he captures your gasp in his mouth, using his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. Soon he has your panties pulled to one side and his thick finger sliding into your dripping folds. Your muffled protests have started slipping into confused moans, and he doesn't need to keep you silent any longer as start kissing him back when your body's frustrated needs take over your mind's denials. Max looks down on your face, memorising how pretty your wide brown eyes looked as you teared up, and he whispers filthy things in your ear to send you off the edge and spiralling into your first orgasm. You're so sensitive, bunny, you’re still a virgin aren’t you? Saved yourself just for me like a good girl, hmm?
You’d silently cried into your plush toy as you buried your flushed face into it, feeling lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you knew you shouldn't be feeling, that was wrong but felt so right. Drool stained your poor bunny plush as you bit down on it to muffle your scream of Maxie as waves of satisfaction rolled over you. You'd fallen back into a deep sleep after the overwhelming stimulation, distantly feeling Max's lips press a goodnight kiss to your tear stained cheeks. And when you awoke in the morning, you almost thought you'd imagined up the whole thing, a particularly naughty wet dream, but when you found that your panties were missing underneath your cute pajama shorts you knew there was only one person who would have taken them with him.
You didn’t even get a chance to confront him because you find out the very same day that Max had gotten his lawyer to cancel your Alpine contract and have Redbull send you a new one, complete with a generous signing bonus that anyone would be a fool to refuse. With your family watching you expectantly, you knew it would be too hard to explain your way out of this. So you reluctantly signed the 1 year contract, telling yourself it was only a temporary problem, that you would surely be hiding out the back of the garage and in the workshops, well away from your childhood bully.
That’s all Max needed to get you alone, to start his corruption of you, his favourite Leclerc sibling. Right from your first day, he’d welcomed you with a firm hug, his swollen biceps pressing you against his broad chest, squeezing your plump ass and making you squeal - but striding off before you could say anything. Or coming up behind you when you were bent over, tinkering on something, and making sure you could feel his impressive semi against your covered slit. You'd always desperately try to move away, anxious someone would see - but you stood no chance against the adult Max's strength when he tightened his grip around your thick hips and grinded himself on your jiggling ass.
He still teased you, sure, but now it came off as harmless flirting, steeped into your childhood friendship. And conflicting feelings swirled in your chest when you saw the lucky ribbon you’d gifting him as a kid somehow still tied to his seat, an ever present good luck charm. Everyone else would smile at you two encouragingly, saying you looked so sweet together, where you secretly a couple? No one seemed to share your nervousness around Redbull's champion driver, or pick up on the undertone of darkness in his intense gaze when he looked at you.
Soon he has you travelling exclusively with him, staying in all the same hotels, under the guise of being his personal mechanic for any last minute corrections. Charles loved it, saying this way Max could always keep a close eye on you when you were away from home. If only your overprotective brother knew he was sending his little sister right into the den of the lion. And the so called Dutch Lion was no longer holding himself back from taking your sweet innocence all for himself.
You'd always belonged to him, after all.
It first started when he’d gotten absolutely furious seeing you at a race afterparty in Miami, giggling cutely in a pretty minidress with an engineer you’d started to flirt with at work. Max had all but dragged you to his private booth, tossing you over his strong shoulder when you tried to stand your ground and stand firmly in your strappy high heels. He kicked all the models and B list celebrities trying to leech out of the dimly lit room, pushing your head down till you were staring up at him, your pretty face bathed in the red neon lights as you anxiously bite your glossed lip.
If you wanted to get fucked so bad, he growled deeply, unbuckling his belt and making your eyes go wide with fear as the biggest cock you’d ever seen emerges, you can just beg for it nicely like the good little slut you are, hmm? You’re sniffling, tears emerging in your wide doe eyes as you beg him please Maxie, please don't do this, I promise I’ll stop-
But he doesn’t listen to one pleading word, his twisted mind obsessed with one thing and one thing only - making the pure Leclerc sweetheart gag and choke on his mean cock. You knew better than to get in the way of what Max wanted, because he always ended up getting it. Instead you let your mind go blank, letting the guilty pleasure cloud your senses to ignore the reality of how mean Max was being, your pliant mouth dropping open as you let him ruin your throat. There isn’t a glimmer of his childhood sweetness in his dark, icy blue eyes as he memorizes the hypnotising sight of your chubby cheeks slurping at raging erection, the tears falling down your face at performing your first blowjob on your knees at a nightclub just making him impossibly harder. He groans as your sweet mouth slurps on his warm length, continuing to whisper his filthy promises to punish you and slipping into dutch as he climaxed. Fuck, fuck, erg lekker, so fucking good- He made sure your crying cheeks was pressed right into his tense abs when he finally emptied his load inside you, panting heavily from how good your heavenly tongue felt. He didn’t move until you followed his instructions and tried to swallow every drop. Your inexperienced mouth struggled, half of his sticky cum leaking out the corners of your mouth. He tutted mockingly, smearing his release all over your swollen lips with his thumb and saying he’d have to give your throat so much more training so it knew how to suck a cock, hmm?
Your cheeks burned with humiliation at failing to please him properly, even though he was practically forcing you to deepthroat him. The next day, when you woke up with no voice, you’d had to pretend you had a cold when seeing Cha for brunch the next morning.
And when he’d have a bad qualifying, he’d easily swipe his way into your hotel room two doors down from his. He often finds you in a cute silky babydoll, getting ready to sleep after a long day in the garage but making sure to dress prettily because you never know when Max is in a bad mood and wants to take it out on you. You had one more job to do, and that’s to make up for whatever mistake you must have made with the car and fucked up his hot lap, Max would argue. An angry Max always scared you so you would sweetly beg for his forgiveness, even for a mistake you would never have made on the car, letting him abuse your petite frame to vent his frustrations.
Tonight, he wanted to play with your breasts, sliding the silky straps off your nightie off your shoulders to hungrily eye your curves, tanned nipples quickly tightening from the chill. Can’t get enough of these pretty fucking tits, he said as he sloppily fucked them while you obediently kneeled in between his spread legs. You’re squeezing your plush chest together to cushion his raging erection, his angry red tip making you squeal when he growls and splatters cum all over your deliciously tanned skin. Knowing he’d get mad if you don’t let him mark his territory, you rub the sticky cream all over your hardened nipples and large breasts before you clean up his drooling cockhead with your mouth. He cooes his praises at you, telling you see, you’re perfect at this, maybe he’ll have you promoted from engineer to his personal cocksleeve to relieve his stress, hmm?
You feel so dirty at the wetness gushing between your legs at his filthy words, biting your lip at the thought of Max fucking you in his driver’s room while your brothers stood just a garage over in Ferrari. But despite his constant teasing, he knew to never cross the line fully and actually fuck you. That would scare you away, make you too anxious, and although he played rough and mean when he'd been younger, he now had the patience to wait and leave you wanting more, so that you'd be the one to come to him. So he edged you constantly, working you up only to pull away just as you almost climaxed, his name on your tongue like a prayer. Or pulling you into sleep against his bare muscled chest, so that you'd feel his morning wood against your soaked panties but be unable to do anything except dry hump him.
And his plan worked because after only a few months, your once pure and innocent mind has become utterly ruined for Max’s attention. The Dutch Lion has convinced you that you’re meant to be his plaything, and you can’t find it within you to try and deny him any longer. Would it truly be so wrong to give in to the naughty desires you’d been having about your childhood sweetheart, your school bully, your brother’s rival on track but friend that had been trusted to keep his little sister safe? When you’d grown too desperate to satisfy yourself by grinding on your pillow or your tiny fingers, you’d decided to entice Max even more in the hopes that he’d properly take your innocence.
You’d certainly caught the Dutchman’s eye, as well as many other hungry gazes, when you started arriving on the paddock in cute heels and floral minidresses. And of course, your generous cleavage was out on full display in sweetheart necklines, instead of conservatively hidden in an oversized Redbull shirt. You’d made sure to have your lanyard tucked right in between your bouncing tits too, the label of Max Verstappen’s Enineering Team dangling and drawing attention with each bounce of your tits when you walked. Because you knew your Maxie just as well as he knew you, after all - and he was a intensely competitive and jealous man. You hadn’t even had to wait till the debrief as he’d hightailed it right out of the meeting room, taking you to his motor home through a back passage.
You still play the clueless little virgin, adamant on trying to resist him even though you're secretly finding it just as dirty and hot as Max does when he shoves you against the door, locking it firmly. Fuck, your body drives me wild, it’s all your fault that I’m getting distracted like this. How can you be such a naive virgin but walk around with the body of a slut just begging to get fucked, huh?
You frantically shake your head, trying to plead your innocence but he doesn’t hear your words, instead grabbing a hold of your miniskirt and asking if you understood girls with thick asses like you shouldn’t be showing them off unless you wanted attention, yeah? You started crying easily, already finding your thoughts going fuzzy as you slipped into submission, craving the way he’d degrade you for his own pleasure.
He’d have to punish you for distracting him, he said, even though he’d won P1 it had been torture seeing your fat ass bending over when you dropped your phone in front of him. You were lucky no one else had seen your cotton panties or he’d have to fucking kill them.
His possessive words make you shiver, doe brown eyes staring up at him expectantly and waiting for his orders. He swears at your obedient expression and guides your hand to his sizeable bulge, making you squeal, hoping it sounds like fright and not eagerness. He rubs your tiny palm across his pants, demanding to know just how the hell he was meant to focus with a hard on the whole race?
When you can’t answer him properly he smirks and tells you that you’ll just have to take your punishment like a good girl, then. Within seconds he has you lying across his lap, your miniskirt up around your hips and white cotton panties pulled down to snugly trap your thick thighs together. And then he’s spanking you with his large hands, telling you to count and meanly restarting each time you lost track when he hits extra hard to watch your ass bounce. By the time he’s finally content your cheeks are red and burning, and you’ve left drool all over his sofa from your desperate efforts to muffle your wails.
You like that, don’t you bunny? He asks meanly. You start sniffling again at his mean words, cheeks burning with humiliation because it had felt soooo good but you felt so naughty for enjoying it. You'd die if he found out. So instead you tell him he was being so mean, Maxie, couldn’t he just be nice to you like when he’d been younger?
Your eyes widen as you blurt the words out instinctively, making Max’s expression grow stormy at your bratty reply. Ripping your panties off entirely, he stuffs them into his pocket and tells you to explain why you’re fucking dripping all over me then, hmm? - running his thick fingers along your dripping cunny and smirking at the long strands of sticky wetness that connect to his fingers when he pulls away. When you don’t respond, too embarrassed by how your body has given you away, he slides the fingers into your closed mouth despite your attempts to turn your head. He makes you lick him clean, tasting yourself on him, murmuring if you were a good slut and spread your legs for him he might consider eating you out.
The ache between your thighs is almost as painful as your tender ass now, and your virgin cunny tingles from the idea of Max kissing you down there. Even though he’s being so mean, you can’t help but sit down willingly against the sofa arm and slowly part your thick thighs, blushing all the while as he examines you intently. You whine when his hungry gaze continues to linger, but he doesn’t stop, even taking out his phone to snap photos of your pussy after holding your thighs open to stop you frantically closing them when you see what he’s doing. It’s so cute and wet he murmurs distractedly, looking entranced as he slowly sinks a single thick finger in and finds it completely sucked in by your tight, drooling pussy. Really, you’ve never let any boy except for me touch you here, not even with his fingers? At the shake of your head and shy murmur of no, just my own, I promise, Maxie he breaks into an evil, satisfied grin. So this little hole is really all mine to claim, huh?
It turns out going down on you was really more of a punishment than a pleasure because he makes you cum multiple times with his skilled tongue. You’re begging him to stop, feeling overstimulated and completely wrecked, mascara stained tears running over your chubby cheeks. When he finally eases his sadistic torture after teasing flicks of his broad tongue have you squirting a third time, you’re too fucked out to protest him separating your puffy cunny lips and spitting onto it, as if it belonged to him. Bunny, if your brothers knew the kind of things I was doing to their precious baby sister, Max says, chuckling darkly. They’d want to slam me straight into the nearest barricade and have my head on a spike.
But your brothers remain as oblivious to your corruption as ever, with an endless supply of work excuses easily being used by Max and now you, as you started to fully give in and enjoy the intense pleasure being his personal fucktoy brought you. He’d taken your sweet virginity on a hot night in Singapore after beating Charles to P1, telling you that the best reward wasn’t the trophy but knowing he got to cum raw inside your untouched cunny. After plying you with champagne at the yacht afterparty, he'd taken you back and fucked you on the French chaise, not even making it to the bed. He’d been gentle the first time, huskily whispering praises in your ears as you desperately tried to adjust to the size, his cock so much larger than his fingers. He licked away the tears at the corner of your eyes as you bite his shoulder, lost in the waves of pleasure as you ride out your orgasm.
When he finally carries you over to the bed, climbing over your satisfied figure, you’re fooled into thinking he’s going to cuddle you. He’s turning you onto your front and you’re expecting to feel him behind you, bringing you into him as his little spoon like he does ever night. But your sleepy eyes go wide open when your thick hips are suddenly pulled up into the air, and your flushed face pressed down firmly into the sheets. And then he huskily whispers it’s time to fuck you properly, be a good bunny for me and take it, okay?
You wailed into the cushions, your open mouth leaving drool all over the pillowcases, as his cock bullies your tight cunny over and over. He reaches around to toy with your sensitive clit, smirking when your crying turned into confused moans of pleasure as the pressure in your pussy starts to feel so good. Soon he’s slamming his hard length into your twitching figure, slapping your red plump ass repeatedly and telling you how funny it’d be if Charlie found out his rival had claimed your virginity, hmm? Should he tell him next time the Ferrari driver tried to one up him on the track? You sob, begging him not to tell your protective brother, shaking your ass onto him and telling him he could even cum inside if he wanted instead of telling your brother. Max groans at your gullibility. Silly girl, he croons as he bends down to whisper in your ear, his muscled abs pressing down on you. I was always going to do that anyways, hmm? This ass belongs to me.
And then he’s moaning into your drooling mouth as his hips still above yours, draining his heavy balls into your pussy that had already been stuffed full of his thick, creamy load from the first round. Rivulets of your mixed juices run down the inside of your thighs, overflowing from the sheer amount of cum he’s pumped you full of. You know better than to ask him to wear a condom, instead praying that it was the wrong time of the month to get knocked up. Especially when he doesn’t let you get up and try to pee it out, instead murmuring he’s just going to stuff a couple of fingers inside and make sure you don’t waste anymore, okay? You try to resist, crawling away and wanting to save your poor, overstimulated clit but once again Max easily holds you still. Hmm, guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson and use my cock to plug you up, he threatens meanly, making tears fall down your face again and his dick twitches with interest. Every man had his pleasures, and world champion Max Verstappen’s was to see the Leclerc baby sister crying and begging for him. Sick bastard, you think distantly through a pleasurable haze as he sinks back inside your gummy walls and makes you keep his cock warm.
Your secret affair with the Dutch Lion continues easily throughout the year. And at the end of your contract, at the yearly FIA prizegiving, you attend with Charles instead of with the Redbull team, dutifully doing your part as the Leclerc sister now that your term at a rival garage was done. At one point you get up from dinner, saying you had to find the bathroom, but end up gone for 20 minutes, missing Cha being awarded overtake of the year for when his Ferrari had divebombed the leading Redbull. Later, when everyone is mingling, Charles walks over to Max’s table, shaking his hand and taking a seat to reminisce about the season. They’d come so far together from their childhood karting days, wasn’t it heartwarming now that they stood together on the F1 stage?
The two men laugh, catching up on missed updates during the busy end of season. Soon they’re talking about their love lives, Max congratulating Cha on his relationship he’s recently made public. The Ferrari driver warmly returns the compliment, saying whoever the Redbull driver was seeing recently must be treating him well because he’s never seen Max so relaxed before. He’s seen the gossip magazines speculate who the silhouette of a mystery girl seen making out on Max’s lap in a paparrazi shot through his car window. Max slyly commented that it was good the camera hadn’t been able to go lower, because then they’d have seen that she’d actually been bouncing on my dick underneath her skirt. Charles laughs at Max’s deviousness, patting him on the back for being such a shameless fucker.
Charles had forgotten to go find the youngest Leclerc, which was just as well because he would never have been able to guess where you had been hiding. You’re diligently on your knees, drooling on Max’s cock underneath the tablecloth, safely tucked in close between his spread legs. Your brother is completely unaware that the girl he and Max are joking about is his innocent baby sister, who’s currently worshipping his rival’s thick length eagerly. Paying the price for her brother’s overtake on the track with her glossy pink lips, just as Max had ordered you too when he found out what award his rival was getting tonight.
As the night continues, all formality lost as the party goers make use of the open bar, it was all to easy for the blonde Dutchman to make you follow him to the private bathroom. It’s so degrading, so mean of Max to do this, to have you on the dirty bathroom floor with your pretty curls unpinned from the classy updo you’d spend ages styling. Your expensive red silk dress hangs off your hips and exposes your bare, bouncing tits to his hungry gaze. So slutty, no bra and all, hmm? You wanted me to fuck you tonight, didn’t you? Answer me! He slaps his hard length repeatedly against your chubby cheeks, spraying precum everywhere and making your perfect makeup run.
Soon mascara stained tears are dripping down your face as Max makes you finish sloppily sucking him off, his phone camera on you and recording every single filthy sound that fills the air. It’s obscene, the way his huge cock stretches your small plush lips open all the way and your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his tip grazes the back of your throat. Hmm, so eager to drink my cum, aren’t you? He coos, and you nod dazedly, your doe eyes glassy. Fuck, you’re such a good little slut, letting me do whatever I want you to your body. My own personal fucktoy. Bet you’d even let me piss down your throat if I wanted, huh?
You gag at this, trying to shake your head but finding it impossible with the strong grip he has on your hair. Max chuckles at your panicked expression, reassuring you not to worry, he wasn’t that mean. You don’t believe him, because later he bends you over the bathroom counter and makes you look in the mirror to see where his leaking cock repeatedly sinks in to the hilt, stretching your cunny out yet again, filling it with his thick seed. You text Cha some excuse about feeling unwell and leaving early as Max buckles you into his passenger seat, knowing there was no way you could explain your absolutely wrecked appearance to your brother afterwards.
You’ve realized that the legal end of your Redbull contract really had no say on anything. Because at the end of the day the only thing that mattered was what Max wanted - and he wanted you to stay by his side, forever. So you let him take your hand in his a few months later at Lorenzo’s wedding, revealing the secret relationship to your family. Your mother is overjoyed, telling you both that you always had her blessing, ever since you’d been kids. Your brothers take a lot more convincing, of course, as well as Max swearing privately to Cha that you certainly hadn’t been the girl from the paparazzi car incident, he’d never treat the Leclerc princess like that of course! He was a playboy before, sure, but for you he was willing to stop all that and commit.
Charles gives you two his begrudging yes, seeing how attentive Max was with you, always intently watching you whenever you entered the same room as him and always knowing where you were if you walked away. And the way you’d look up adoringly at the blonde, desire and love clear in your doe eyes. Soon you’ve accepted Max’s offer to move into his penthouse, unpacking all the lingerie and diamond necklace sets he’s been buying you for months. And when he comes home at the end of a tiring day, sighing and settling on the living room couch, you now know to anticipate Max’s needs before he has to tell you. You crawl over to him, wearing skimpy lingerie in his favourite colour, nuzzling your face into his clothed thigh and asking please Maxie, could you please suck him off, your mouth felt empty without him?
He places a loving kiss to your forehead and unbuckles his belt for you, cooing praises at what a good little pet you were being for him. This time, when he cums, you have no issue greedily swallowing every single drop of his hot, sticky cum, licking your well trained lips. So yummy, Maxie…Would you like my pussy or my ass next?
He smirks down at your slutty words, a dazed expression on your face, dumbly ready to please him however he liked, whenever he was in the mood, wherever he wants it. Nothing quite beats having his own personal toy, even if it’s taken some time to break you in. Doesn’t matter now, though, because it has been worth it. Because you’ll never leave his side again, completely devoted to him, the concept of being with any other man ruined for you.
Time for him to make good on his childhood promise, Max thinks. Make you his vrouw, his wife, once and for all.
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#f1 imagine#f1 smut#max verstappen x you#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#18+ mdni#dark max verstappen#dark smut#bully x reader#formula 1#max verstappen x oc#smut#midsize!reader#plus size!reader#f1 fic#charles leclerc#leclerc!reader#leclerc!sister
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^^ Hello, how are you. Idk if this is the right place to send a request since I’m new to tumblr lol. I would like to make a request though it may seem a little weird. May I request Miguel O’Hara/Fem Spider-barbie reader. Reader’s outgoing and cheerful she has the aesthetic of a Barbie and gets along with other spiders, she’s not actual barbie doll btw lol. Miguel could be yelling and giving other spiders a hard time but whenever Spider Barbie’s around he’s the complete opposite. Spider barbie always helps calm him down whenever he loses his temper. Maybe one day he’s stressed and angry over a mission so spider barbie decides to calm him down with a back massage. Could also lead to some smut, only if you’re okay with writing that. No pressure. Thanks! ^^
miguel o'hara stars in... 'HI BARBIE! HI KEN!' ヽ(>∀<☆)
a/n ~ first request!!1!! i'm doing great, thank you so much. this isn’t weird at all- i spent all day writing this, it's so cute!! i had margot robbie's cowgirl fit in mind for reader when i was writing this, she's so beautiful omg, i think it suits spider-barbie's vibe really well💕 went a bit heavy with the smut but miguel's hot so it's valid- enjoy my love!
summary; miguel gets some stress relief from his favourite barbie girl.
pairing; miguel o’hara x fem!spider-barbie!reader
wc; 2.3k +
cw; SMUT!!, pining, oral sex, dry humping, facial, throat/face-fuckin, soft?dom!miguel, sub!reader, he's a lil mean but he loves you, praise kink, worshiping, hair pulling, miguel shouts at some people, f!masturbation, squirtinnn, miguel being sexy, NOT PROOFREAD!! i have a headache
“and you didn’t think to fucking report it to me?” miguel was seething, talons digging stripes into his desk as he glared down at the poor recruits below him. yes, they were new, but they fucked up an important mission- he wasn’t about to go easy on them.
“por el amor de dios, do you three have any idea how serious this is? you could’ve-“ the spiders looked at each other, eyes of their masks comically wide as the drown out miguel’s rants to try and come up with some sort of excuse to justify the failed mission. “-and don’t even think about coming up with some bullshit excuse.”
they froze, shaking their heads and hands rapidly as they nervously stuttered out, ‘no, of course not’, and, ‘we would never, boss’- miguel’s disapproving gaze boring holes into their masks, he jumps off the platform and stalks up to them. menacingly looming over them as his eyes flash red, lips pulled up in a snarl as his sharp fangs poke out under his top lip.
“don’t let this happen again, cause i swear i’ll-”suddenly, the doors of his lab slide open, a cheery voice ringing through the spacious room as all eyes flit towards the pink figure strutting in. the recruits blush under their masks, hearts beating rapidly at the sight of the sparkly spider- known across the spiderverse as the most perfect spider, spider barbie.
���miguel? i brought you some lunch! oh- hi guys! sorry i didn’t mean to interrupt, i’m y/n, by the way.” you flash them a bright smile, glossy, plump lips glistening under the lights as you hold up the bag of food- the spiders wave frantically, greeting you with unmatched enthusiasm. miguel’s breath hitches at the sight of you, masking it with a roll of his eyes as he looks down at you- eyes softer compared to the harshness they had when looking at the recruits.
“it’s fine, y/n, we were done here anyway.” that was their cue to leave, the newbies scrambling to get out of the room, feeling the tension rising, but not without sending you shy smiles and whispered goodbyes you reciprocate with angelic kindness. miguel watches you intently, eyes locked on your every move. his eyes trail down the hot pink set you wore, the fat of your tits spilling out the tight top, curvy hips accentuated by the tightness of your flares - fuck, you are perfect.
he lets out a heavy sigh, his bulking frame towering over you as he takes the bag gently from your pretty hands, making sure to brush over them slightly. “what’d you get me this time, hm? empanadas again?” he has a crooked smirk on his lips as he opens the bag, his eyes still trained on you as you sit on the counter, the prettiest smile on your face. “actually, i got you some sushi this time. thought i should surprise you a little.”
he allows himself to smile, the tension in his face easing in your presence. “yeah? how’d y’know i’d like sushi? you keeping tabs on me?” you giggle, stealing a piece of sushi from the platter. “wouldn’t you like to know. i asked lyla, actually, she’s very helpful.” his eyebrow raises, glancing over at the glowing hologram who appears to be lounging by the monitors, a small smile on her face hidden by a small magazine.
“right, guess i’m gonna have to install a ‘keep your fuckin’ mouth shut’ feature now.” he mutters, secretly enjoying the thought of you knowing things about him he wouldn’t dare to tell anyone if they asked, relishing in the thread of connection you two share. you stand, moving around him to stand behind him, stretching up to grip his shoulders.
“you ok, miguel? you seemed upset earlier.” you whisper in his ear, hands running down his arms innocently. he doesn’t think so though, the soft touch of your hands compared to his firm muscles igniting a tingling feeling in his belly - a soft groan leaving his parted lips as he leans into your touch. “‘m fine, the new recruits just pissed me off. nothin’ f’r you to worry ‘bout, pretty.” you smile slightly as he lets the pet name slip out, your hands running more sensually around his upper body, dipping into the crevices and curves of his chiseled body.
“let me at least help you feel better, mig, your shoulders are tense as fuck.” you smirk playfully, leaning round his body to peer up at his face, eyes widening as you take him in. his eyes were slightly hooded, wetted lips open in pleasure, a faint tinge of red on his face. he looks down at you, panting softly as he sucks in a deep breath, nodding silently as he allows you to lead him wherever.
gently grasping his hand in yours, you lead him towards his large chair, sitting him down as you slide yourself in his lap. miguel’s head races with all sorts of thoughts, the tell tale sign of his arousal pressing against the crotch of your sparkling pants, his hands subtly moving you down to ease the ache in his lap. your lips pull into a empathetic pout, hands moving gracefully along the taut muscles of his shoulder blades, moving down to the ridges of his abs.
“how’s this feel? am i doing good?” the sweet tone in which you speak has him biting back a growl, his cock throbbing as he moves subtly against the plush folds of your cunt through the fabric. “ ‘s great, your- shit- your hands feel amazing, love. jus’…keep doing that, yeah?” you nod, biting your lip softly as you keep up your soft caresses. his head falls back against the chair, eyes closed in bliss- he looks so unbelievably handsome, sculpted jawline, high cheekbones, he’s just so mmh.
you couldn’t help yourself, not when he was practically offering you a taste of him. his thick neck, littered with veins of various sizes, laid bare for you. you slowly moved in, small breaths warming the skin of his neck, heart pumping and hands trembling slightly. your glossy lips press light kisses on the flesh, shiny, pink, marks left behind. one hand moves up to rest on his chest as you feel a surge of boldness rush through you, leaning in once again to suckle on his skin.
his eyes flit open, gazing down at you as you mark his neck with deep red and purple bruises, his hand lazily running up your spine as he grinds into you just a little harder. “hm? what happened to givin’ me a massage?” he flashes you a sexy grin, tilting his head at your ministrations- not that he minds of course. you don’t respond, only small moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you continue to suck on his skin. his hand moves down to your chin, lifting your flushed face to meet his. “thought you were supposed to be makin’ me feel better? i can feel that pretty pussy soaking through y’r jeans, love. this turnin’ you on?”
you nod, your beautiful face betraying your need for him. he lets out a deep chuckle, hands caressing your hips as he moves you to grind against him, the thin fabrics of both of your clothes letting you feel the engorged tip of his cock brushing against your clit. he breathes out a stuttered moan, gritting his teeth as he stares into your eyes, how could someone be so fuckin’ perfect? you had to have been made to torture him, to make his heart race and cock hard to every time he’s around you- hell, every time he thinks about you.
“miguel…” your whining snaps him out of his thoughts, his focus immediately zeroes back onto you. he pulls you closer, resting you against his bulky chest. “yeah? what’s up, baby? what d’you want?” his thumbs caress your nipples through the fabric of your top, the rough pads of his fingers making your pussy clench tightly, slick coating your puffy folds. you look up at him, hands pulling at the thin fabric of his suit. “i still wanna make you feel better…can-can i suck you off, please?”
has he died? has miguel died and gone to heaven? or was this some kind of fucked up hell, there was no way he was hearing correctly. you, the sweet, innocent, barbie-esque, spider he’s been silently pining over for months now is asking him, so cutely, to suck his cock. he doesn’t think he’s been as eager to say yes to anything as he was now. he clicks a button on his wrist, his suit glitching away at his crotch. his cock is so pretty. a trail of dark hair leading down his navel, the tip a deep red, the rest tanned, throbbing veins wrapping around his length. it was fat, and shit, it was long too- pre dripping down the side of it as it, twitching the longer you stared at it.
your mouth waters, tongue darting out to lick your lips. your nimble hands wrap around his cock, a small gasp rings out in the room as your thumb runs along his tip, collecting the wetness and rubbing it around the tip. his fangs dig into his lips, speckles of blood pooling underneath the sharp tip. he sinks deeper into the chair, his suit dissipating more to reveal his thick thighs, a large hand coming to rest against one, the other caressing your cheek softly. “gonna wrap those pretty lips around me, baby? ‘m so hard, need you to make me feel better.” he didn’t expect to hear how needy he sounded, but he wasn’t embarrassed, he’s finally got you- and he wants you to know how badly he needs you.
he guides your head towards his aching cock, a hand moving to grip your hair tightly. he angles his length towards your shimmering lips, rubbing the tip all over, smearing his pre-cum along your gloss. a low, rumbling hum reverberates through his chest, quiet curses leaving his lips. he finally forces the fat head of his cock through your lips, simultaneously pushing your head down along the length of his cock. the sounds of you gagging fills his chest with a sense of pride, forcing you to take all of his thickness. it was so, so messy. saliva and creamy strips of cum dripped down the side of his cock, wetting your lips and pooling on top of his balls. he smiles at the sight, head lolling to the side, resting against a hard shoulder.
“my pretty girl, can’t believe ‘m finally havin’ you like this. i- mm i would worship you, if you’d let me. you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby, a walkin’ goddess. and your lips, fuck, those perfect lips.” his mind is all scrambled, the feeling of you sucking the soul out of him rendering him a blubbering mess, resulting in him pouring his heart out to you. smiling around his cock, you look up him, those sexy eyes of yours gazing into his- a silent reciprocation of his affection towards you. at that, your lips suction around him faster, tighter, coaxing him into filling your mouth with his load.
his breathing deepens, sweaty chest heaving. at this point, his suit is gone. he doesn’t bother hold back his moans, deep growls and grunts that make curious spiders stop and listen in as they pass his lab, opting to not investigate what the big boss is up to further. but you, you’re a fuckin’ sight between his legs. mascara running down your hot cheeks, gloss, spit, and cum on your chin, running down your neck and between your cleavage. he didn’t think you could get even more beautiful, but here you were.
“i’m ‘bout to cum, yeah? gonna fill that perfect mouth of y’rs with my all my cum, ‘n you’re gonna swallow it like the good girl i know you are, ok baby?” his hips buck frantically into your salacious mouth, holding the back of your neck tightly to keep you anchored at the base of his cock, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. his actions betrayed his sweet words, hands gently running over your face, wiping away stray tears as his cock abuses your poor throat. he catches a glimpse of you sliding a hand down the front of your pants, pushing aside your panties to rub against your sticky clit.
‘so cute’. he smiles, revelling in your soft whimpers and your shaky thighs- the squelch of the three fingers you plunged into you almost drowning out the slick gluck! gluck! gluck! of your throat. “fuck, baby, i can hear her from here. she’s so wet just from suckin’ me off, isn’t she?” your fingers speed up, his voice a sexy, deep drawl- lips quirked back up in a smirk, but it was short lived as he felt his balls tighten, orgasm threatening to take over him.
his leg bounces, your mouth was just so wet, so fuckin’ hot- he couldn’t take it anymore. he’s waited so long to feel you around him, to see you take him so beautifully. his body tenses, a low growl of your name leaving his plump lips. his cum spurts out in steady streams, your cheeks puffing out from the sheer amount he unloads into your mouth. it drips out the side of your lips, you struggle to hold it all in, letting it drip down your neck.
you choke on the liquid in your mouth, your orgasm squirting out onto the cold floor of his lab. he laughs breathlessly, he was so whipped for you. watching his pretty, little, angel cum so perfectly for him. his cock lets out a few more spurts on your cheeks, twitching again when you struggle to swallow his load down. he wipes away the cum on your cheeks, dipping his thumb back into your mouth to let you lick the remnants off. he smiles softly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you back onto his lap, running hands up and down your back lovingly.
“s-so, d’you feel better now?”
“mm, think there’s just one more thing i need. spread your legs f’r me, baby.”
*por el amor de dios - for the love of god
-gonna take a cold shower now
#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara#astv miguel#cheonstapes#cheonstapes-films!🪷#cheonsshowreals 🤍
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Mesmerized - Logan Howlett x ballet dancer!reader
Summary: You need to break in your new pointe shoes, which leads to Logan catching you dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night (takes place during the original trilogy, I specifically thought of the first or second movie)
For an elevated experience, I would listen to Tchaikovsky while you read (the one below is pas de duex) OR I personally would listen to Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses theme - don't judge me until you listen to it
If there was anything you hated about ballet, it was this.
You stood in your room, dressed for a late-night practice session in a leotard and shorts when you remembered your pointe shoes were pretty worn. Apparently, your brain underestimated just how worn out they were.
It had barely been four weeks since you started using your current pointe shoes, but they looked like they had been through a hurricane - no surprise, considering how often you used them.
As you held a borderline unusable pair of pink shoes in your hands, you contemplated waiting until tomorrow to fix this mess so you could practice.
No, you didn't want to run the risk of people seeing you dance. You hated the idea of someone seeing you. It's why you didn't audition or perform, even though you could. The only people you were comfortable watching you dance were Charles, Jean, and Ororo. Even then, your shyness often got the best of you and you often cut those sessions short.
You were too shy and stubborn to wait for tomorrow, you concluded.
Luckily, you had a stash of brand-new pointe shoes in your closet for times like this. You picked the ones you wanted from your closet and began the process you knew well, one that would likely look insane to other people. You put a cloth over the box part of the shoe, and stood on it, pressing your weight down from your heel to widen them. Content with your work so far, you picked them up again, sat on the floor, and started to bend the heel portion back and forth, carefully avoiding the center. You smiled at the satisfying crackling sounds that came from each shoe as you worked them.
Now for the mentally insane part.
You grabbed both shoes and started smacking the tips of the toes together, making a thudding noise every time. Halfway through, it occurred to you that it was getting late. You shifted your eyes to your clock - 12:49 am. Oops.
Well, it was too late to back down now, and plus, your door was closed. You continued your assault on the shoes until they made a nice, softer thud when you tapped them on each other. Perfect.
The next step in your process was to actually wear the shoes and dance in them a bit, but you had a slight setback. Your room was carpeted.
Charles was in the middle of designing a dance studio so you could teach at the school, but it was just that right now. A design.
'I'll just see if anyone's in the kitchen,' you thought, quickly grabbing your inserts and new shoes. You silently made your way to the kitchen, relieved when you found it empty, bathed in the blue light from the microwave and oven clocks. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. Plus, you didn't want to turn on lights and accidentally wake someone. If you haven't already.
You sat on the kitchen floor, slipping on your inserts, then your shoes. You stood, testing your pointe one foot at a time before going to both feet, testing your balance with a few steps.
Stretching, you felt the shoes give a little, molding to your movements. Soon, you lost yourself in the familiar rhythm of your warm-up, the quiet shuffle of your feet against the smooth kitchen floor the only sound.
You slowly transitioned from warm-ups to full movements. Each step, every rise to your toes was precise, your muscle memory taking over and guiding you through different steps.
Logan woke with a start, drenched in sweat. He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about, but his adamantium claws stabbing his mattress told him it wasn't good. He glanced at the alarm clock by his bed - 1:03 am.
There was no way he was going back to sleep. His heart was pounding, his mind too chaotic to be put to rest.
That's how he found himself wandering aimlessly through the mansion in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He turned to go down another hallway, but a tapping noise caught his attention. He hesitated, using his senses to figure out where it was coming from.
The kitchen.
He started towards the rhythmic tap-tapping with a newfound energy, his sharp instincts pulling him closer to the kitchen.
He paused when he reached the doorway, his brows furrowing as he took in the sight. There you were moving with effortless grace and fluidity, he wondered how it was even possible. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, staying in the shadows to observe you quietly.
Logan's eyes narrowed, studying you. Your movements were somehow relaxing to him, you just looked like you were completely enveloped in your element like this was how you normally moved.
With a deep breath, you began a series of fouetté turns. Your arms swept out as you spun, your leg whipping around each turn, propelling you in a perfect circle. Your movements were sharp, yet controlled, balance unwavering as you transitioned from one turn to the next.
You gradually let the turns slow, your momentum dying out as you shifted your body into an arabesque, extending one leg behind you as your arms reached forward, forming a perfect line.
You paused in that position, your muscles stretching in a familiar burn before you moved to start a pirouette. You lifted your leg and started the turn, the rotation smooth, like second nature. You ended the spin in a deep plié, the tension in your legs releasing as you sank closer to the floor, only to rise again, light as a feather.
You released a breath as you stood normally, moving to take your pointe shoes off. Your mind was busy, thinking about what you did good and what you wanted to work on. So busy, that you didn't notice the man who had been watching you from the shadows smirk and walk away.
You woke up later than usual the next morning, your tiredness from last night evident in all your features. After a half-hearted attempt to tame your hair, you gave up and threw it into a messy bun. Your oversized hoodie swallowed your frame, covering your shorts completely, and you pulled your favorite throw blanket around your shoulders like a shawl as you shuffled down the hall toward the kitchen. Food was the only thing on your mind, your stomach reminding you about it every 30 seconds.
As soon as you got to the kitchen, you went straight to the cabinets looking for your one true love: cereal. Its usual spot was empty. Frowning, you rummaged through other cabinets in hopes that someone just misplaced it.
"Scott, if you took the rest of the cereal," you mumbled, "I will shove my pointe shoes so far up your -"
A throat cleared behind you.
You froze, turning slowly to see who just witnessed your plotting against Scott. You really hoped it wasn't Scott.
You didn't recognize the man casually leaning against the wall, smirking at you with his arms crossed.
"You know, if I knew this place came with free ballet performances at midnight, I’d have moved in sooner," he drawled, his voice thick with amusement.
Your face warmed. "Wait what?"
His smirk widened as he pushed off the wall and took a slow step toward you. "I saw you last night. The kitchen floor is an interesting stage for a ballerina."
His eyes never left yours as he walked closer, your shock and embarrassment slowly sinking in.
"I didn't think anyone would be up," you said, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie, looking down, "and I've never seen you around before."
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stopped right in front of you, his presence towering over you as your back pressed lightly against the counter.
"Logan."
You looked up at him, almost right above you with how close he was.
"What?"
"My name," he clarified, the tension between you rising, "It's Logan."
"Well Logan, like I said, I didn’t realize I had an audience," you half-whispered, refusing to look away for even a second. You could feel the heat from his body, the subtle scent of leather and cigars drifting from him, making it hard to focus on your words. "I don't usually have people around when I dance," you admitted, your breath shaky.
"Well, I guess I'm just lucky then," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Couldn't keep my eyes off you."
Your mouth parted slightly, taking in the meaning of his words. Your face got impossibly warmer.
Logan clearly enjoyed the effect he was having on you, but it was time to shake things up, he thought. You were starting to look like a deer in headlights.
Almost as quickly as it had formed, the tension broke as Logan pulled back slightly, though he didn’t fully retreat. "Anyway," he said, his voice shifting back into that low, gruff tone, "you look like you could use some breakfast."
"I was thinking the same thing, but Scott had other plans." You rolled your eyes.
"I can beat him up for you," Logan quipped.
"I was gonna do that," you laughed. Logan just raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.
“Tell you what,” he said, heading toward the fridge. “Sit tight. I’ll whip up something better than cereal, save you from committing a crime and getting killed by Scott.”
You chose to ignore the second part, surprise taking over your features. “You cook?”
Logan gave you a sideways glance featuring a raised eyebrow as he pulled out some eggs and milk.
"It would be just embarrassing if I couldn't manage something as basic as scrambled eggs," he said with a small scoff as if offended.
His eyes met yours again, that playful glint back in full force. “But don’t get too used to it, ballerina. It’s a one-time deal.”
You smiled at his teasing. "Sure. One-time deal."
Hope you all enjoyed my first Logan fic! This idea has been floating around in my head for a while :)
I got the pointe shoe info from here and the dance move info from chat gpt because I'm not a dancer lol
#logan is the rizzler#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#logan james howlett#james logan howlett#logan wolverine
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tumblr
pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader
summary: idek, an unedited fluffy short blurb
requests open masterlist
———————
Usually your period isn’t this bad, but your body decided to rebel against you.
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks, handing you a mug of tea as you are curled up on the couch watching your ultimate comfort movies.
“Like shit,” you groan, ignoring the cramp you just felt.
“I can make you a warm bath, maybe light some candles,” Oscar offers, sitting beside you.
“It’s okay, there is nothing Barbie doesn’t cure. You don’t have to sit here all day with me, go ahead and do your training,” you tell Oscar, watching to watch the old Barbie movies in peace, without Oscar worrying about you. He takes your hint without being hurt about it, he’s a big boy.
Honestly, you don’t know how you ended up with Oscar, he doesn’t really look like any of the princes, and those guys are definitely your type.
When Oscar reappears a few hours later, freshly showered, he notices you scrolling on your phone, humming to the music from the movie.
“Babe, I’m going to order pizza, what do you want?” Oscar asks, opening the app on his phone.
“Hold on, I’m about to get with you,” you say, fully invested in your phone.
“What?”
“This has been the slowest burn ever, but we are finally about to get together, in like chapter 20. I hate slow burns,” you huff.
“Babe, we are already together. You married me?” Oscar says confused. You finish the last paragraph and look at him.
“It’s fan fiction, Osc. You know, on Tumblr,” you show him your phone and his eyebrows are furrowed.
“Why?” is all he can say, unsure of how to react.
“I got bored of writing,” you say, closing the app and refocusing on the movie.
“You write the fan fiction? For me?”
“Ew no. That would be weird. I write for the more popular drivers. You know, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Max, Daniel, Lewis,” you list and Oscar just stares at you. You are literally besties with Lando and Charles, but you don’t write for your own husband? He’s honestly offended.
“What do you mean ew? I think how you scream my name most nights contradicts that,” Oscar smirks, your face flaming.
“That’s why it would be weird. I’ve written it but it will never be published,” you admit, a little embarrassed.
“Anyway, pizza. Yes or no?” you quickly reply yes, hoping to move on from the conversation. That night, once you fall asleep, he scrolls through your account, reading the fan fictions you wrote and reblogged. It’s weird, but he enjoys your writing.
The subject isn’t brought up again until one drunken grid and WAG dinner, where Oscar drunkenly blurts it out.
“Y/n’s written fan fiction about us,” he says and all the guys look at you.
“The girls love it. Some of your antics make for great stories,” you defend yourself.
“So true, I love reading them,” Kika says, the other WAGs voice their agreement about it.
“What?” Charles is confused, but Lando, being the child he is, gets excited.
“Which one of us gets the most written about?” he asks and none of you waste a second replying.
“Charles,” the answer is in unison, causing the Monegasque to blush. None of you will admit that Lando is a close second.
Over the next week, you get random texts from them, asking which ones you wrote, but also their thoughts on different ones. Charles is appalled and flattered by the amount of smut written for him. Lando and Daniel are the opposite, they love the smut and how they’re talked up. They also told you that they got ideas from some of them, causing you to want to bleach your eyes out.
Eventually, they found out which account was yours, sent it to each other, and started spamming your inbox with requests. Lando’s tend to be about him winning a WDC, poor guy can barely win as is.
After a week of them spamming your inbox with requests, you decide to post an announcement on your account.
Dear readers,
Unfortunately my account has been outed. I know you all love my works and when I post some behind the scenes information about GPs. Sadly, my friends who work in an important role in F1 found my account and it no longer feels right to write this anymore out of respect for them.
Thank you all ❤️
↪️ user1 she knows a driver doesn’t she
↪️ user2 or an engineer
↪️ cl16racer don’t stop 😢
↪️ y/username sorry buddy, it’s time
↪️ oscarpastryy yeah, it’s a little weird now
↪️ landomorewins it doesn’t have to be!
“Wow, the guys are really torn up about it,” you laugh, Oscar’s arms around you as you cuddle on the couch. You had been thinking about stopping writing them anyway, so it was just a good excuse.
“I just wish you’d publish what you wrote about me,” Oscar kisses the side of your head.
“That’s far too dirty and intimate. It’s what I read when you are away,” you say with a blush. “You can read it if you want,” you hand him your phone. He holds the phone where you can both read it, his other hand running up and down your side absentmindedly at first but more intentionally the longer you read, until you aren’t reading anymore. That might’ve been some of your best sex.
“From now on, when you write like that when I’m away, you send it to me. Promise, Mrs Piastri?” Oscar says, kissing you.
“I promise,”
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Lobsters
Barbie Dolls: Remus lupin x reader
word count: barely 800
summary : Sometimes you cant find the right word in english so remus helps you find the jar’s hat
warning: google translate frencch, Im sorry i only know two languages (americccan english and americcan sign language so), metions of sex but you litterally just told remus no more intercccourse, youre frenccch now, thats all boo
request: yes how’d you know (get out of my walls)
Remus was spectacular, really. He was quite supportive. He’d make you breakfast, stock the pantry of your snacks, nod along when you’d get frustrated and fully slip into French, and he put your socks in the hamper. You liked how everything was just simple with him. It was a bit of a struggle sometimes being a household with multiple languages under the roof. Sometimes the words would just float away from you, leaving their taste in your mouth, with no idea what word you were searching for.
You stared in frustration at the glass jar in your hand. In the process of making you and Remus dinner, you misplaced the top to the jar of pasta sauce. Even worse you couldn’t remember the name you were searching for. You groaned, considered slamming your head on the cabeintet, and started searching through the drawers. Maybe you left it when you were picking out another instrument? Slamming the third drawer shut, you moved to the next.
“Is there a burglar in here? Why are we slamming things?” Remus said, announcing his presence. You turned around and glared at him. His chiper tone frustrating you more.
“I can’t find the-“ You paused, waiting for the word to come to you. “-Thing!” You threw both your hands at the counter, more so at the jar. Remus turned his head, scanning the counter. It was a mess, making it even harder to find what you were talking about. He hummed.
“The thing.”
“Are you mocking me? If you are I’ll smother you tonight with your pillow, trust.” Remus quickly shook his head at you.
“No, baby. No, I’d never. I'm just a little lost.” Remus muttered. You grimaced, your frustration tiring you. You slumped into a nearby chair.
“What are we looking for?” Remus asked, trying to bring you back to the original topic. You pointed to the pasta sauce jar.
“the jar.” You stated plainly, wanting to just sit in a dark room for a minute.
“Well, darling, I found it.” Remus picked it off the counter and handed it to you. He had a grin on that showed he was proud of his joke. You took the jar out of his hands and held it up to his face.
“I can’t find his hat.” Remus stared at you a moment. You could see the cogs behind his eyes turning. He turned around and started sifting through the mess on the counter again. You set the jar on the table staring at it with death behind your eyes. Remus made a triumphant trumpet sound with his mouth before holding out the circular tin piece out to you.
“I found the lid.” You smacked your lips.
“Lid, mère de Dieu, comme c'est stupide.” You muttered, turning the lid onto the jar. Remus nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Tell me about it.” You glared at him, stupid loving boyfriend.
“ 'm not having sex with you for two weeks.” Remus scoffed at you. His hand shot to his chest, clutching his pearls.
“I found your lid.” You shoved him lightly, back towards the hall he came from. Remus came back to you giving you a light peck.
“I love you,” Remus muttered. You nodded.
“I love you, too.” You grumbled. Remus snorted at you. He squeezed your shoulder lightly.
“Oh please contain your excitement.” you shrugged his hand off your shoulder.
“If you don't leave, I'm going to burn the food.” Remus threw his hands up.
“Or lose the jar's hat again,” Remus whispered, in a teasing tone.
“Je vais te tuer,” you said in a cherry tone, giving Remus a big smile. Remus grinned cluelessly.
“Love it when you talk sexy,” Remus whispered, leaning in for another kiss. You indulged him, lightly pressing your lips to his. Remus slowly pulled away, wanting the kiss to last years. You pecked the corner of his lips before turning back to the pot. Remus smiled at you.
“You know, I’ve actually been learning a little French.” You glanced at Remus out of the corner of your eye.
“For me?” Remus nodded, moving behind you to wrap his arms around you.
“euh je t'aime mon homard” Remus whispered to you, stuttering over his words and vowels. You felt your heart warm at his attempt. You wanted to laugh at him, but you knew you shouldn’t. You hummed, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
“Je t'aime aussi, tu es mon homard préféré,” You muttered as you continued working on dinner.
“I know some of those words mean you love me so that’s enough for me,” Remus muttered into your neck. You smiled. You thought about getting a picture of a lobster framed and not explaining it to Remus at all. You could hang it above the couch in the living room. Maybe add a few colors to the background to make it a little more abstract.
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#remus x you#remus x reader#marauders era#marauders#the maraunders map#dead gay wizards#marauders fic#the marauders era#the marauders#are those all my tags#well anyway
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Te podría pedir un dark!Enzo x Barbie! reader que no sea smut? ✨
Cuando digo Barbie me refiero a una chica bien femenina y dulce
Fluff con Dark!Enzo ♡
"Los opuestos se atraen" siempre fue para Enzo -sin importar los estudios científicos que lo confirman- una frase carente de lógica. Las personas deberían tener valores, creencias, metas y gustos en común para que una relación funcione, ¿no? ¿Por qué compartirías tu tiempo con alguien que no ve la vida de la misma manera?
En este momento la idea le parece distante, propia de un sueño febril, mientras observa tu blusa blanca y el suave cárdigan rosa que cubre tus hombros; ambas prendas combinan con el... ¿Cómo era? ¿Rose Latte? Bueno, esa bebida que ordenaste y depositaron en la mesa en una taza tan rosa como su humeante contenido.
-¿Qué pasa?- pregunta cuando nota que no comenzás a beber. Su propia bebida, un Black Eye que es un reflejo de su ropa, también espera por él-. ¿No es lo que pediste?
-Es que no quiero arruinar el dibujo.
-Sacale una foto- propone, conteniendo la risa.
-¿No te molesta?
-Para nada.
Tomás un par de fotos, enfocando intencionalmente su parte de la mesa, antes de regresar tu teléfono a tu bolso y desdibujar con la cuchara el delicado latte art. Cuando levantás el tazón él te imita, disfrutando la costumbre de beber juntos el primer sorbo.
Nota que tu labial deja una huella en la taza y debajo de tu labio inferior, por lo que se estira para borrar la mancha de tu piel. Ese gesto revive el recuerdo del trend de TikTok en el que llenaste su rostro con la marca de tus besos. Estabas usando el mismo labial -tu favorito-, está seguro, y también utilizaste ese color cuando estampaste una de sus camisetas.
Le sonreís para luego tomar una servilleta y deshacerte del resto de producto en tus labios, limpiando la porcelana cuidadosamente mientras le comentás algún detalle de tu semana. Te escucha con atención pero tiene que esforzarse para no perderse en el tintineo de tu brazalete o los movimientos de tus manos, con los que otorgás énfasis a tu relato.
Luego de unos minutos nota tu mueca de molestia y alza ambas cejas. Ante esto respondés señalando sutilmente hacia el extremo opuesto del lugar en el que se encuentran: no es necesario voltear para saber de qué se trata, son típicas las miradas curiosas que juzgan y normalmente logran ignorarlas, pero no siempre es sencillo.
Siempre hay algún que otro curioso que se detiene para mirar, probablemente preguntándose por qué la chica con un peinado perfecto está sentada con alguien que difumina su delineado desastrosamente adrede. Tus pequeños pendientes son otro detalle que contrasta con sus múltiples y notorios anillos.
Toma tu mano y eso es suficiente para borrar la molestia de tu rostro. Recuerda la primera vez que te enojaste en su presencia, durante el estreno de Oppenheimer y Barbie (vieron ambas y para su sorpresa, Barbie fue genial), porque en ambas salas todos miraron más tiempo del debido.
-No entiendo- dijiste entonces y repetís ahora-. ¿Por qué tienen que mirar tanto?
-Porque mi novia es la más linda del mundo.
Soltás su mano bruscamente, fingiendo odiar sus demostraciones cursi, pero puede ver la forma en que mordés tu labio sutilmente para reprimir una sonrisa. Le encanta.
#letters to enzo#deep in thought#deep answers#enzo vogrincic#enzo vogrincic x reader#lsdln cast#lsdln x reader
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spawns in ur inbox with my hands politely folded. hello hazard-c-horror. it's been quite a few days now, and i've only Continued to fall down the dandy's world rabbit hole eihsihssh SO, since you're the only Other Person i know about that's Insane abt D.W *and* SAMS, i would like to throw Thoughts inspired by your SAMS x D.W au I've been having .D.
i was hella inspired by the character sheets you made for moon, eclipse, lunar, and solar, so. take some Thoughts for how sun, earth, and kc would work in the game digsgskqj
(btw- this disclaimer might be a bit silly- but idk if you already have Planned Out Stuff for these characters n their abilities n stuff, and i Apologize if you do- this isnt me trynna like take over your au or smtn, its just me being autistic dgsigaiya that being said, do with these ideas as you will, you have free reign over anything you do w them lmao)
Sun:
OKAY so yk how he can turn ppl into geese n stuff in canon? i feel like his transformation magic could actually be his ability. as a toon, he has the ability to turn either Himself or other toons into an object (like a soda can or chocolate bar) for 5-ish seconds. he could do this to Instantly de-agro any twisted's chasing either him or other toons, and the 5 second break could be just enough time for stamina to rebuild so even if the twisted does still spot the de-transformed toon again, they have more time/stamina to run and hide
THAT BEING SAID. his twisted form would be the exact Opposite of this- he'd be able to mask himself as an item and attack/agro onto any toon who'd try to pick him up. he'd be a lot like twisted rodger, just for items instead of capsules. and ofc there would be things making it obvious that the item wasn't trustworthy- like discoloration or added bits on it. if you have a keen eye, avoiding him is Easy :)
i have like a couple thoughts for his mastery item. first one that came to mind was a Cat Plush, which when equipped it has a “calming effect”, and ups your stealth up by around 10-ish percent, making it harder for twisted's to spot you. but then i also thought “haha Wine Bottle”, which i thought that (when close enough) it could instill the “confused” effect on nearby twisted's, and make it harder for them to see nearby toons. so both items would do the same thing, just go about it in different ways
Earth:
she deffo has an ability like tisha's or shelly's, where it helps out the other players instead of herself. im thinking she's able to heal others for one heart every two minutes. a basic ability, but bro methinks this game needs a healer besides teagen, who can only heal herself dosyohsshs the Easy way to go about it is that she can just.. go up to (aka Click) on another player to heal them, but she could also just have a “medical bag” on hand where she whips hella bandages out the wazoo and gives them to whoever needs em dishiaha
okay as a twisted this girl gives me MAD razzle and dazzle vibes in how she functions. but instead of sleeping, i can imagine her constantly Crying and remaining in one smalllll specific area, patrolling it, almost. she can be led away by Distractors (goob, pebble, ect), but once they've de-agroed her, she'll start slowly walking back to her patrol spot. the best way to deal with her is to have someone else agro her and lead her around while You fix the machine she's working on, or vice versa :) but you Can still beat her on a solo run, bc she has rather slow walk-speed when getting back to her patrol spot where you could beat her back to it after leading her away. it'd just be a Lot easier w multiple people digdihsah
and her item?? first thing that came to mind is a barbie doll. or just a “pink girl doll” bc. copyright sigsiszvah it would be an Active item (like the wrench or bottle of pop), where at the start of every round, she could place it down somewhere, and it makes noise, which leads the nearest twisted right to it. ofc we dont want it Too op, so once a twisted makes contact with it, its destroyed and returns back in earths inventory, ready to be used next round .D.
Killcode:
kc is a Complex one- i think this guy would have slow walk speed, but a fast run speed. so i think he'd be a good “distraction” character, like goob or pebble. HOWEVER. i think it'd be sick as *hell* if his ability, using his size, literally made it so that he could momentarily Pick Up Other Toons and carry them away from any twisted's chasing them. he'd prolly only be able to do so for 3-ish seconds, but it could be a saving grace for anyone out of stamina being chased .D.
now. as a Twisted. this👏man👏deserves👏lethal👏status👏 his name is LITERALLY KILLCODE i refuse to believe he cant one-shot a bitch sisgiaga due to him literally being a Being made to perfectly hunt/kill, i think how twisted kc would act is that he'd spawn in at the start of a new floor, a Sound Queue would play so that toons know he's on the floor. and now he's just.. somewhere. hiding. *waiting*. hes normally spawned behind corners or nearby machines, where its either easy to run into him or hard to avoid him. hes not Impossible to beat tho- i imagine he emimates a very quiet sound byte, so hes still avoidable on blackout floors, even if he's not visible. and that byte also helps on just normal floors too ofc. best way to deal with him is to listen to his sound queues and *be very aware of your surroundings*. cause if he spots someone, he is *hard* to lose, and hes lethal if he gets ya. once freed from his waiting spot, he's not going back to it. instead, he'll be moving around the map like a faster, but also Louder, dandy. Scary!!
aaand his item. i came up with a “soup ladel”. cause. heh. yk, because he volunteered in soup kitchens in canon? .D.? i think im Funny siosgiaa what it'd do is up the spawn rate of better Food/Drink items on every floor. think instead of soda cans spawning on floor 1, there's a higher/better chance for soda bottles to spawn instead .D.
. this is over 1K WORDS LONG OF AN ASK hazard im so sorry, im Unwell sigihgaisg okay now i go eep for tonight good nini honk shoo honk shoo
Why hello there. Longest inbox I’ve ever received
I love this a lot actually, and thank you for some ideas! Love the trinket ideas especially, will probably use them
I’m just be reading over this like 12 times, because I just love it
It’s also funny bc I had the same idea about Earths ability, so that’s nice. Great minds think alike
I don’t know if I’ll be incorporating Sun’s magic into this, but I did include Eclipse’s so I may use your idea. Bc I also don’t have any ideas for him at the moment
One unfortunate. KC will not be in this au, but I could make a non canon character sheet for him a Solar flare if people wish. Really like your ideas for him!
The soup ladle is my favorite for a trinket lol
In return of theses amazing ideas, I give you a sneak peek
#sun and moon show au#sun and moon show#tsams au#sun sams#sams sun#sun tsams#tsams sun#earth laes#laes earth#earth sams#sams earth#earth tsams#tsams earth#killcode tsams#killcode sams#tsams killcode#sams killcode#kc tsams#tsams kc#kc sams#sams kc#Sams x dandy’s world crossover au#Sams x dandy’s world crossover#my art
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Mr.Eeyore is still not back and it's been seven days!!!! Everything is so boring without him. Mommy gets busy and can't always play with me. My friends live too far away so I can't go play with them so I don't have anyone to play with.
When it's time to go to bed my room feels way too big. It feels lonely so I have been sleeping with Mommy in her room but Mommy told me she is going on a business trip soon. Meaning I'm going to be alone till she or Mr. Eeyore come back! Well not really alone I am going to stay at our neighbor's house but you get what I mean diary.
Ugh, this week is so bad I don't even want to play anymore. The only things that make me feel better are Mommy's spaghetti, my music, and my mini Mr.Eeyore. Oh that I just got an idea, diary I can't make a list of things to do with Mr.Eeyore when he gets back.
Play dress up with Mr.Eeyore
Make a playlist with Mr.Eeyore
Cuddle with Mr.Eeyore the whole day (I gotta make up for the lost time)
I wonder what kind of music Mr.Eeyore likes? Oh here is my playlist of my favorite songs.
°^° My favorite songs playlist<3
Puppy princess - Hot Freaks
Simple and clean - Hikaru Utada
Endangered love - VeggieTales
Don't stop the music - Rihanna
Lovegame -Lady Gaga
Pon de replay - Rihanna
Dynamite - Taio Cruz
Like a G6 - Far East Movement
Hug me - Pharrell Williams and Trey Parker
Barbie girl - Aqua
Just a girl - No Doubt
Baby my phone - Yameii Online
Runaway baby - Bruno Mars
505 - Arctic Monkeys
I'll see you later, diary I'm going to take a nap, and maybe when I wake up Mr.Eeyore will be back.
#space marine husbandry#space marine husbandry sentience#space marines#raven guard#warhammer 40k#i can't spell for shit thank for gammarly#oc: oras karerax (mr. eeyore)#oc: eva#diary entry#oc info
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Hello Tumblr followers, it's October and a lot is happening! First and foremost, the Eldritch Saints leftovers are finally listed. New pins, prints, stickers, and keychains are available now in my Etsy shop. Many of these items have been sent to my stockists as well.
Speaking of Kickstarter campaigns, if you missed the Angelology III campaign, the pre-order store is open until October 14 2023. Lots of pins, stickers, and keychains - including some awesome guest artist designs - are available for pre-order. If you miss the pre-order, you will have to wait until any leftovers are available after the campaign.
Back to new shop items: in addition to the Eldritch Saints pins, I have even more new pins available! Charity pins for the Maui Strong Fund and Assistance Dogs of the West are now available. My Film Noir Monsters are also available: there are a limited number of full sets, individual pins, and blind bags.
This month's seconds pins are Penemue, Percy de Rolo, Archangel Samiel, and Mistress of Darkness.
To make room for all the new pins, older ones have retired from my Etsy shop. You can still find them with my stockists. If you're curious about what pins I've made, I've updated my pin catalog. If you have restock requests, you can make those in this Google form. I generally don't reprint any pins once sold out, but if a design is popular enough I'll consider making a new variant. So if you have a variant idea, you can include that in your request.
Anyway, returning once again to new shop items: new stickers are also available! Rat Kings, Biblically Accurate Barbie, and a glitter version of Original Character Brainworms are now listed in my shop. New keychains are available too, including Be Not Afraid Jon, Biblically Accurate Barbie, Throne Angel, Little Guy Seraph, and Angelic Messengers keychains.
On to more general news for October. This month I am working on drawing original angel designs for Angeltober 2023. You can follow along on social media. Some of these designs might turn into pins next year! So you can let me know if you like any in particular.
Since we're in the last stretch of 2023, I thought I'd do a recap of my upcoming plans.
First, let's look ahead to November, where I anticipate a lot will also be happening. November 24-25 2023 I'll be at the SJMade holiday fair, so I'll be working on items for that. The Cowboy Monsters, Trigun Cowboys, and a few other pins weren't quite ready in time for this update, so I'll be saving them for November. I also have some recolors of pins, including Wolf Knight and Deadwale, that might be ready by then. My plan for these November items is to a list a small quantity as usual at the beginning of the month, and save the rest for the fair. Any leftovers will be listed right after the fair, so you can expect two shop updates that month.
Looking ahead to the rest of the year, I will be working on crossing off some more pins from my self-funded to-do list: including original designs, and more fanart pins for Spiderverse, Better Call Saul, and Trigun.
I'm planning to close my Etsy shop December 8 2023, and reopen it sometime in 2024. That will be your last chance to grab any last minute gifts. My stockists will remain open so you can purchase from them while my Etsy shop is closed.
Next year I'm running my last two planned Kickstarter campaigns: Angelology IV: Angels of Extinction, which will feature designs inspired by endangered and extinct creatures; and Pride Angels, featuring angel pins in the colors of different Pride flags. This won't be my last Kickstarter campaigns ever, but probably my last for a while.
I will also have a much shorter list of pins I'm planning to self-fund in 2024: it includes some more fanart pins, the rest of the Zodiac and Astrological Putti, and a series inspired by the angelic hierarchy. I'm considering making a pin club on Ko-fi so I can share those plans and help fund those pins, without relying on Kickstarter. I would also post manufacturer reviews and merch previews. Let me know if that would be something you'd be interested in!
In 2024, outside of the Kickstarters I'm planning to scale down my pin making to focus on making other merch, I have a long backlog of stickers, keychains, and other items I've set aside this year to focus on pins. Pin making will always be my greatest passion so I don't think I'll ever stop completely, but it does take a lot of time, effort, and money and I think it's time to ease up on it so I can work on other things. I'm also looking to diversify my inventory of items, so if you have any suggestions you can send them my way. That's my early New Year's resolution anyway, we'll see if I follow through!
That's all for this update, which ended up being a long one. I'll leave you all with a link to my About Page/FAQ if you haven't already given it a read; and if you have any questions you'd like to ask anonymously, you can send them to my Tumblr ask box. Have a wonderful week.
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STAINED HEARTS
pareja . . . percy jackson x lectora
el cassette tocando . . . lovers rock! tv girl
la carta lee . . . donde tu y tu novio mitad sirena tienen una cita bajo el agua.
advertencias . . . ninguna!
a/n . . . Estoy trabajando muy duro para poner mi blog en orden, actualmente estoy trabajando en la tabla de contenido de los one shots y más fics 😭😭 de todos modos, fue algo hermoso de hacer, y aquí está la ⚝English version.
Érase una vez tantos besos que todas las preocupaciones de este mundo podían eliminarse con labios suaves.
—Tus labios están todos manchados —hubo un suave susurro entre ustedes dos antes de que Percy te diera otro beso en la boca.
—¿Me queda bien?
Te reíste, siguiendo el contorno de su sonrisa con las yemas de tus dedos.
—Es un lindo color rosa, pero tal vez un tono más coral podría resaltar más tus ojos.
Percy estaba a punto de protestar. ¡¿Como pudiste?! ¡El rosa era un color increíble para él! Especialmente después de volver a ver Barbie por tercera vez; pero le diste un dulce beso en la mandíbula y él se derritió con tu toque.
—¿Crees que nos encontrarán pronto? —susurras en su oído, sus dedos trazando formas en tu hombro, pasando de ochos a corazones, mirando fuera de la burbuja que había creado.
—No, no creo que lo hagan, a menos que Jason decida ir a nadar... o Reyna entre y nos arrastre ella misma.
Resoplaste, rizando un mechón de su cabello entre tus dedos.
—No fue la mejor idea escabullirnos cuando los romanos vinieron de visita —susurraste, dejando un rastro de besos en su cuello, antes de detenerte en su pulso—. Tampoco fue muy amable de su parte interponerse en nuestra cita.
—Jay lo entenderá —se ríe—. ¿Barbie y La Sirenita en una noche? No me lo perdería por ningún motivo, además aquí hay paz.
Percy extendió uno de sus brazos para atravesar la burbuja y sacar una concha.
—Esta es casi tan bonito como tú —presiona sus labios contra tu sien.
El silencio pasó entre ustedes dos, nada más que decir, nada que llenara el silencio mientras dejaba caer la concha de mar en medio de tu pecho, subiendo y bajando a lo largo de tu respiración.
—¿Quieres que nos besemos?
—Sí.
Érase una vez una pareja en las profundidades de un lago oscuro disfrutando de estar total y perdidamente enamorados.
#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson imagine#one shot#a vampire kiss#bella's written love#percy jackson and the olympians
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