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ghoulishhx · 2 months ago

Note

love your work, you write frankie so well it always has a tear run down my leg 🤭💖

i saw you post the smut prompt list. how about frankie with number 8, however you’d like to have it happen

thank you 💖💖💖

8.) open your legs for me baby, i wanna see you

aa thank you for your kind words!! i've been working on this on and off throughout the day so if seems weird or paced odd, i do apologise. once again im VERY self conscious (what's new) but like i need this and i need him

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

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Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: semi-public sex, oral (f!recieving), one night stand type vibes, unprotected pinv sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!frank, use of restraints, creampie, dirty talk, praise, mutual pining, choking

Wordcount: 2.3k

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✦ strangers

You don’t usually make the habit of fucking strangers you’ve known for one conversation, in the dingy bathroom of the dive bar you chose to drown your sorrows in, but fuck it. Tonight you’ve earned it, earned a well needed distraction.

You don’t know what came over you, deciding to take the gruff man, who bought you a rum and coke, by the hand and dragging him with you into the small tiled room and locking the door shut behind you both. This is the same man who minutes ago was listening to you venting about your fucked family issues, your stuck up boss who loves to put you through hell. He offered you nods of mutual understanding and a lingering hand on yours, the warmth of his large calloused fingers tracing small comforting circles across your knuckles made your breath hitch. Before you know it, you’re whispering you need him in his ear and gesturing to the bathroom behind him.

You tell yourself it’s his eyes that drew you in, those dark chocolate eyes baring directly into your soul, mixed emotions swirled within the colours of his iris’, drawing you in and subconsciously telling you he gets it, gets you. You find solace in the little to no communication.

“Oh, what’s your name by the way?” you softly speak into his ear as you enter the bathroom together.

“Huh? Oh, yeah it’s uh, it’s Frank.” he looks at you inquisitively, wondering why you chose this moment to finally ask him. You pick up on this and answer his question before he can even ask.

“Just wanna know what to scream when you make me cum.” you bite your lower lip, this newfound confidence is definitely the booze talking, you go to look away as you feel embarrassed blush travel up your neck however you’re brought back to earth with the sound of a dark chuckle that comes from Frank’s mouth.

“That right? Well ya can’t be too loud darlin’, don’t wanna get caught now do we?”

The realisation of the riskiness of the situation floods your panties with arousal as he pushes you against the door, lifting your thigh from behind and wrapping it around his waist as he tastes the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You moan into his mouth, his own subduing the noises and capturing them as he bites down on your lower lip softly, before softening the sting with his tongue. The kiss you share is nothing short of desperate, passionate, raw. It’s as if he needed this just as much as you, needing to release whatever pent up emotions he has kept locked within himself for god knows how long.

You trail down your hands down his button up shirt, prying the fabric apart with shaky hands as quickly as you can, needing to see him, feel him. The groan Frank makes when you run your nails down his now exposed chest makes you clench around nothing, feeling the firm muscles beneath the pads of your fingers as your nails softly scratch at him makes his jaw tick, his mouth moving to your neck as he bites down, sucking purple bruises into the sensitive skin below your ear before softening the sting with his tongue. He curses as your hand lands on his bulge, straining against the confines of his jeans and he cannot help but buck his hips into your touch, neediness for any amount of friction he can get taking over him.

“Y'so fuckin’ gorgeous doll” he mumbles into your ear as he lifts you effortlessly, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you over to the counter below the dirty, graffiti coated mirror. Frank continues the relentless assault of kisses along your neck, trailing his lips down your exposed chest, your tits perfectly accentuated by the tight black dress you decided to wear tonight. His tongue travels between the valley of your chest as he reaches down and lifts your dress up above your hips, his hands gripping at the meat of your thighs, thumbs dangerously close to where you need him most as you arch your back into his touch, craving more.

“Open your legs f’me baby, I wanna see ya..”

Frank groans as you comply with his request, exposing your soaked panties. He reaches out and brushes his digit along the stain of arousal in your underwear, lowly whistling under his breath as you shudder at his touch. “Shit, girl.. all f'me? Fuckin’ soaked doll, lemme take care of it for ya, yeah?”

With any other lover, you'd usually make them work for it, beg for you, but your desperation possesses you as you wildly nod, throbbing around nothing as you move your hips closer to him.

“Use y'words sweet girl,” Frank teases as he flashes you a shit eating grin, fully aware of the effect he has over you as he crouches down, his eyes now level with your cunt. “Want me to taste ya, hmm? Make ya feel good?”

“Fuck.. please. Please taste me Frank, I need yo-” your begs are cut off as he latches his lips around your clit through your panties. The fabric rubs deliciously across your swollen bud as he pulls it further up you, your folds peaking around the edges as more slick coats your underwear. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you throw your head back onto the glass behind you, not hard enough to cause damage. He chuckles at your body's reactions and peels the garment from your soaked core, shoving your panties in his back jean pocket before he feasts on you properly.

You can't help but grind yourself into his face as best you can, wrapping your fingers in his hair and tugging before he removes your hands and pins them down by your side, disallowing any movements. You whine, trying to escape the vice grip he has on your wrists, itching to touch him, feel him with your fingers as he devours you.

Frank moans into your entrance, licking stripes up your pussy to your clit before trailing back down and fucking you on his tongue. He feels his cock twitch as your walls clench around him, already making his boxers damp with precum.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, babydoll. Could stay between y'legs forever.” The words echo through your body, the vibrations of his words making you buck into his touch. Your clit rubs deliciously along his large nose, the sensation reeling you closer and closer to your much needed release.

“Frank- don't stop pleasepleaseplease.. I-I'm so close..” you whimper, biting down on your lip. Only now he lets go of your hands, allowing you to wrap yourself in his curls, grounding you as your orgasm threatens to spill.

“Yeah? Let go doll, cum f'me. Lemme have it girl, thaaaat’s it pretty girl, make a mess of m'face.” his consent for you to let go allows you to do just that. Your whines fill the room along with chants of his name with strings of curse words as you gush all over his nose and mouth. Frank swallows every drop up gratefully, humming into your core as his pace continues its relentless speed, lapping up your folds like it’s the last meal he will ever have. His pace only falters when you squirm beneath him and physically pull his face from your core, the overstimulation overwhelming you.

Frank slowly stands, eyes never leaving yours for a second as he begins to unbuckle his belt. Without thinking you thrust your wrists towards him,

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he darkly chuckles, accepting your request and wrapping the leather around you, pulling the belt tight before raising it above your head, pushing your hands against the glass. “Be a doll and keep ‘em there, yeah?” You nod as he pushes his thumb between your lips, you instantly swirl your tongue around his digit. He groans at the view, firmly tapping your cheek with his free fingers. “Attagirl, tell me if it’s too tight, alright?”

Frank removes his hands from you and unbuttons his jeans, unzipping them so they rest across his thighs along with his boxers. Your breath hitches as your eyes land on his cock, thick, long and leaking before you. Frank can’t help but smirk at your fascination with his cock, and as if he read your mind once more.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’ll fit. I’ll make it fit.” you blush at his dirty words, jaw going slack as he begins pushing himself into your entrance.

“That‘s it girl, tight stretch, attagirl takin’ it so well,” he coos as he guides his length inside of you, your whines like music to his ears before he captures them in his mouth, placing wet kisses across your already kiss-swollen lips, nibbling on your lower lip as he pushes himself fully inside of you. Frank sighs with pleasure as he fills you to the hilt, his pubic bone resting on your spent clit.

His hands rest on your hips as he begins thrusting slowly in and out of you, fully removing himself from your entrance before thrusting himself back inside fully once more. The repetitive motion makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, already cock drunk from him and how he feels.

“M-more, please Frank.. Faster.. Need you” you whimper between broken sobs as his pace quickens, just as passionate as before, just faster. Frank’s lips trail across your chest, using his teeth to pull your dress down further to expose your chest to the cool of the bathroom. Your nipples instantly harden with the change of temperature and Frank can’t help but wrap his lips around the pebbled bud, sucking harshly before nibbling and soothing the sting. Your back arches into his touch, slightly regretting wanting him to bound you with his belt, you’d give anything to feel him, run your hands through his hair, leave scratches along his back to make sure he remembers this night just as much as you will.

“Still so fuckin’ tight babygirl, feel so good like ya were made f’me.” he grunts into your body, hands resting on your ass now as he harshly grips at the flesh bruisingly, sure to leave purple marks that will no douby turn you on whenever you see them. The familiar coil twists in your stomach, hyper aware that another orgasm was approaching and fast. “Ya gonna cum, huh? Feel ya clenchin’ me, that’s it doll give it t’me. Make a mess of my cock.”

Within seconds your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, impossibly stronger than the one before. Frank’s hand wraps around your throat, squeezing slightly only to elevate the sensation as you shudder in his hold. His name is moaned between broken sobs, fulfilling the promise you told him prior about screaming his name. Neither of you care about the noise anymore, so lost in each other and the pleasure it’s not even a thought anymore. Frank’s grunts increase, you know he’s close as he groans, resting his sweaty forehead on yours. You can’t stop yourself from bringing your arms down from the glass, placing each one on each shoulder as you trap him closer to you, craving him. He doesn’t seem to mind your defiance and allows you to pull him closer into your lips, instantly plunging his tongue into your mouth.

“Cum inside me, please Frank. Wanna feel you for days.” you whine into his mouth as you wrap your tongue around his own. One, two, three more thrusts and he’s spilling himself inside of you, painting your walls white with his hot, sticky release.

Frank moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around the small of your back and resting his hands on your ass once again as he pulls you as close to him as humanly possible, trailing kisses along your jawline as he emptied himself inside of you. You let out a soft giggle into his ear, the realisation of what just happens making you quiver. He joins you in a hearty chuckle as he reaches up and pulls your arms from around his neck and places them back into your lap before removing the belt bounding you, wrapping it around his jeans once more.

You whimper as he unsheathes himself from you, the loss of his length inside of you makes you hiss as you feel the stretch of where he once was. After tucking himself back into his pants, you place your hands back on his shoulders as you play with the stray curls of his slightly overgrown hair as he lifts you from the sink onto wobbly knees, catching you before you topple over onto the ground.

“Want ya to know, uh, I don't do that very often.” he begins, arm still wrapped around your waist as he places a kiss on the top of your head, smirking into your hair.

‘Me either,” you chuckle as you turn to face him. “Don’t know what came over me, asking you to come in here and, uhm, do that..”

“Year? Well I’m glad ya did sweetheart.” he hums as he pulls you into his chest. “But next time, when I tell ya to keep y’arms there, listen to me.”

“Next time?” you tilt your head up and rest it on his chest.

“Yeah next time, if that’s something you’d want..?”

“Yeah it is.. I’d like that very much.”

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a/n: once again, pleaseee lemme know if you liked this. struggling a lot rn with my confidence with writing lmao. sorry to be so annoying and ask a lot

my inbox is open!

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httpsserene · 5 months ago

Note

Me agian lmak

Can I pretty please get the one from the kink list (breeding kink)

With max, pierre,lance, alex and mick

Love you 🫶🫶🫶

🧽🪣 would you like a complimentary car wash? — send me any five (5) drivers and one (1) kink from this list, and i will rank the drivers in order of who i think is most to least likely to participate/avoid, or love/hate that kink !!! each driver will have a small blurb written xxx

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. i tried my best with this one, i feel like it kind of does not eat :( happy 3k bianca xxx

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

𝐦𝐭𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 fem!bipoc!reader x mv. 1 | pg. 10 | ls. 18 | aa. 23 | ms.47 cw under the cut.

refrences to marriage, pregnancy, starting a family, baby trapping, gold digging, and more. mick has a bit of a menty b about the seriousness of pregnancy. less smutty and more focused on internal monolgue.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭

Pierre’s breeding kink is severe. It wasn’t as prominent with his past girlfriends—but with you, it’s like he can’t erase the thought of getting you pregnant out of his head whenever you have sex. Sometimes, he catches himself agonizing over the fact that he didn’t finish inside you, because he thinks he’s wasted an opportunity to knock you up. He hasn’t discussed this with you, though—mostly because he’s afraid that you’ll think he’s more of a weirdo than you already know he is. You’re the one who goads him into fucking you harder by begging him to fill you up, so is it his fault? It’s a miracle that you haven’t ended up pregnant from the amount of unprotected sex you two are participating in and he knows it’s disgusting to even briefly think about wanting your contraception to fail. He thinks it’s that extreme because he’s always wanted a gaggle of children, a bunch of mini-you’s and mini-him’s running around. He’s not insane enough to have you carry five of his children if you don’t want to—surrogacy and adoption are always options, too.

Max does not have a breeding kink. If he looks at you interacting with his nephews and thinks that you’re going to be the best mother to his children, that’s not proof of his so-called “breeding kink.” If he thinks he’d be thrilled to have you hand him a positive pregnancy test right now, that’s not proof of his so-called “breeding kink.” If he cradles your stomach delicately as he slowly grinds into you from behind, mumbling into your shoulder about how he can’t wait to put a baby in you, that might be a breeding kink. And, if he pretends that he’s cumming inside of you even though he’s using protection, that might be a breeding kink. Max isn’t ready to be a dad but, he knows you’d look like even more of a goddess if you were pregnant. He has dreams of you waddling around the apartment with a rounded belly, always startling awake from them drenched in sweat and rock hard.

Alex wants to start a family with you, but he just doesn’t have a fetish about impregnating you. He thinks the term “breeding kink” is a little bizarre, sounding too animalistic for his taste. If you’re the one with the kink for being bred, Alex would try his best to satisfy that urge for you, but he’s going to sound a little awkward while doing it—there’s no way he’s going to make the phrase “I’m going to knock you up” sound attractive. His tone always comes across as unsure, the two of you pausing mid-fuck to stare at each other in silence before collapsing into hysterical laughter at just how corny that was. He thinks it’s better to continue his usual dialogue of compliments and praise, instead of trying and failing to see the allure of an impregnation kink.

If there were a kink for being sexually unattracted to impregnating you, Lance would have it. It probably stems from pregnancy scares with his exes, where the elation of possibly becoming a parent was tainted by what was an attempt to baby-trap him. It doesn’t matter what precautions the two of you take during sex, Lance wouldn’t even insinuate that he’s going to breed you—he’s traumatized, and that would ruin the pleasure of sex with you. It’s not that he thinks you’re like the women in his past who were gold diggers–he knows that you’re dating him because you love him and you aren’t chasing after his wealth. But please, save the breeding kink until after the two of you have been married for a few years.

Mick is too respectful to have a breeding kink. He thinks it’s demeaning of him to be sexually aroused by impregnating you. Matter of fact, he thinks any variation of “I want to get you pregnant” said by anyone should be considered a threat if they're not serious about it. He doesn’t understand the psychology of it—are those who have the kink aware of the commitment that is having a child, let alone the risks and difficulties of pregnancy? If people did, he thinks a lot less of them would have a breeding kink—not that he’s mansplaining, he’s just trying to be a gentleman. Do you know what Mick finds attractive? He finds being able to have an uninterrupted night of sleep with his beautiful girlfriend attractive—being well-rested and childfree, turns him on. He’s young, you’re young—these years should be spent cherishing each other before he’s mentally prepared to start taking the breeding roleplay seriously.

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x black!reader #f1 x poc!reader #max verstappen x reader #pierre gasly x reader #lance stroll x reader #alex albon x reader #mick schumacher x reader #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly smut #lance stroll smut #alex albon smut #mick schumacher smut #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 smut #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #httpss :// 3k vday celly.

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octaneink · 2 months ago

Text

Easy Love

Will Lenney x Reader

Summary: The Reader tries a new scent, Will definitely notices. Warnings: None! Notes: Not an ask, just a random idea I thought would be cute ☺️☺️☺️

You'd been meaning to reorganise the junk drawer all week.

It was a task that nags at you every time you fish for a pen and come up with nothing but dried-out pens and a handful of foreign coins. Today, the mess had reached critical mass when you'd been searching for the spare key to your place and instead unearthed three dead AA batteries and what might have been a receipt from 2019.

So at 2 PM on Sunday, with golden afternoon light pooling across the kitchen tiles, you'd upended the entire drawer onto the counter. The contents formed a sad little monument to domestic chaos: twisted phone chargers, a single cufflink, half a dozen IKEA Allen wrenches, and at least three pens that definitely didn't work.

Will had watched this from his throne in the living room armchair, one eyebrow arched over the top of his novel. "Spring cleaning?" he'd asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's making me itchy just looking at it," you'd grumbled, aggressively untangling a knot of cables. "How do we even accumulate this much crap?”

That was an hour ago.

Now you're kneeling on the kitchen floor, elbow-deep under the sink, fingers brushing against the cold pipe as you search for the trash bags you could have sworn you bought last week. The cabinet smells faintly of lemon cleaner and something metallic, and you're fairly certain your jumper is collecting dust bunnies the size of tumbleweeds.

"Will," you call, voice slightly muffled by the cabinet, "did you move the—"

The only response is the soft whisper of a page turning. You twist to see him through the doorway, still curled in the armchair with his book propped against his knees. Afternoon light gilds the curve of his shoulders, catching in his hair where it's fallen across his forehead. His thumb moves absently along the edge of the page, but his eyes never leave the text.

"Will?" You try again, louder this time, knocking your knuckles against the cabinet door for emphasis.

"Hm?" It's the kind of distracted noise people make when they're only physically present, their mind still wrapped around a plot twist or character's fate.

You give up with a huff, the cabinet door swinging shut with a hollow thud as you rock back on your heels. The floor had left angry red impressions on your knees, and your shoulders ached from being hunched in that cramped space for so long. When you finally straighten up, your spine cracks in three distinct places—the kind of satisfying pops that make you feel both ancient and temporarily relieved. The clock above the stove reads 3:07—if you leave now, you can make it before everything closes at 4.

"I'm running to the shop before it closes," you announce, brushing dust from your clothes. "Need to grab milk anyway. I'll pick you up a snack for work tomorrow—want anything specific? Those protein bars you like, or should I see if they have more of those weird spicy nuts?"

Will makes a noncommittal noise, but you’re already heading for the hallway, stripping off your dust-streaked jumper as you go.

In the bedroom, you tug on a fresh top and pause, eyeing the little glass bottle on your dresser. The perfume was a gift from a friend last month—“It’s so you,” they’d insisted—but you’d barely used it. Today feels as good a time to use it for the first time. You spritz it on, the scent blooming: vanilla, bright and sweet at first, then something deeper, spicier, like amber melting into skin.

You give your wrist an absentminded sniff. Nice. Maybe your friend was right, it does suit you. Leaving your bedroom, you walk to the door and grab your tote from the hook, digging through its depths for your keys. They jangle somewhere near the bottom, buried under crumpled receipts and a pack of gum.

That’s when you notice it.

The silence.

No rustling pages. No absent tap of Will’s fingers against the armrest. Just the weight of someone’s gaze, like a touch between your shoulder blades.

You turn.

Will hasn’t moved from his chair, but his book lies forgotten in his lap, spine bent at an unnatural angle. His eyes lock onto yours, then drop—slow, deliberate—to the curve of your neck. His throat bobs as he swallows.

“Going out?” Will asks again, his voice gravel-dipped. It’s not really a question. There’s an edge to it, a tension that makes your pulse skip. You finally fish out your keys with a triumphant jingle. "Yes, Sherlock," you say, shooting him an amused look over your shoulder. "Like I said five minutes ago when you were too busy with your book to listen."

His abandoned novel lies splayed on the armrest like a wounded bird, pages crumpled under his restless fingers. The sight gives you pause, Will never treats books this way. “Want anything else?”

His answer comes in movement rather than words. He rises with sudden purpose, the book tumbling to the rug as he crosses the space between you in three long strides. Before you can react, he's shrugging into his coat with uncharacteristic haste, the wool collar sitting askew, his hair mussed from where he'd raked an impatient hand through it.

"I'm coming with you," he says, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You blink. "Since when do you volunteer for grocery runs?" The tease in your voice falters as he steps closer, shrinking the hallway with his presence. The heat of him radiates through the scant space between you, his hand brushing the small of your back as he reaches past you for the door. His touch lingers just a beat too long, sending an unexpected shiver up your spine.

The intensity in his storm-grey eyes betrays his usual calm—something restless simmers beneath the surface. You notice the faint tremor in his fingers as he holds the door open, the taut line of his forearm muscles as he gestures you through.

Outside, the evening is crisp, the streetlamps casting honeyed pools of light on the pavement. Will walks closer than usual, his shoulder bumping yours whenever you round a corner. You catch him staring again, his gaze snagging on your throat, your wrists, and the pulse point behind your ear. When the wind tosses your hair, he inhales sharply, as if stealing a secret.

“You’re quiet today,” you say, half-turning to face him.

He stops short, his eyes darkening. For a heartbeat, you think he might say something—do something—his breath warm against your cheek. But then he steps back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just thinking,” he says, the words rough, like they’ve been dragged through gravel.

What’s got into him?

The shop's sign buzzes louder as you approach, flickering in the gathering dusk. Will lingers by the door just long enough to hold it open for you, his arm brushing yours as you pass through. The warmth of his body lingers where he touched you, even as he falls into step beside you.

You grab a plastic basket from the stack near the entrance, its handle creaking in your grip. Will reaches for the same one too, his fingers briefly overlapping yours before you both pull away. There's a charged moment where neither of you move—just stand there in the harsh light, baskets in hand, breathing the same air.

You tug one free, its grip creaking under your fingers. Behind you, Will shifts closer than necessary—his chest nearly grazing your shoulder—as if drawn by some magnetic pull. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his hand twitch forward, fingertips skimming the air just above yours before curling into a fist.

For a heartbeat, neither of you move. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, bleaching the linoleum into a sterile white. You can feel the heat of him against your back, smell the faint cedar of his shampoo mixed with something sharper, almost feral.

“Right,” you say, clearing your throat, pivoting toward the dairy aisle, "Milk first."

The aisles are narrow enough that Will has to walk behind you, his presence a constant warmth at your back. When you stop to examine expiration dates on the milk cartons, he crowds closer than necessary, reaching past you to grab one. His chest brushes against your shoulder, solid and warm.

"Got it," he murmurs, his breath stirring the hair at your temple. The milk carton drops into your basket with a dull thud, but neither of you move away immediately.

At the coffee display, the rich, roasted scent wraps around you both as you survey the options. You reach for your usual blend at the same moment Will does, his hand covering yours completely. His skin is warm, his fingers slightly rough against yours. Instead of pulling away, his thumb strokes once—slow, deliberate—across your inner wrist where your pulse jumps.

"Sorry," he says, though his voice is anything but apologetic. His eyes drop to your mouth for a heartbeat too long before he finally steps back, leaving your skin tingling where he touched you.

You swallow hard, focusing on the coffee labels with sudden intensity. "S'alright," you manage, dropping a bag into your basket with slightly unsteady hands. When you glance up, Will's watching you with that same dark intensity, his fingers flexing at his sides like he's resisting the urge to reach for you again.

The moment stretches, thick with something unspoken, until Will clears his throat and reaches past you for the sugar. His arm brushes against yours, his chest nearly pressing into your shoulder as he leans in. His breath ghosts warm over the shell of your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Forgot we were out of this," he says, voice pitched low just for you. The words vibrate through you, and you're suddenly hyperaware of every point of contact between you.

At the checkout, the cashier—an old woman with a knowing smirk—watches with undisguised interest as Will crowds into your space while you unload the basket. His fingers keep brushing yours as you both reach for items, each accidental (or not-so-accidental) touch sending little electric jolts up your arms.

When your hand trembles slightly while handing over cash, Will's fingers cover yours again, ostensibly to help but really just another excuse to touch. "I've got it." he says, his deep voice resonating in your chest as he stands close enough that you can smell the faint remnants of his cologne mixed with something uniquely Will.

The cashier arches an eyebrow as she hands back your change, her eyes flicking between you two with amusement. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your pulse hammering in your throat, as Will's hand finds the small of your back to guide you toward the exit.

Outside, the cool evening air does little to calm your racing heart, especially when Will's fingers slide down to tangle briefly with yours before he seems to think better of it and shoves his hands in his pockets instead. The charged silence between you is louder than any words could be.

The walk home stretches taut between you, the grocery bag’s handles digging into Will’s palm as he walks just a half-step too close. His sleeve brushes your arm with every other stride—cotton whispering against cotton—and each incidental contact lingers like a brand. The city sounds fade into background static: a distant ambulance siren, the click-clack of a dog’s nails on pavement, the hum of a faulty neon sign above a shuttered laundromat. All of it feels muffled, drowned out by the rhythm of Will’s restless energy.

When you pass beneath a flickering streetlamp, its sickly yellow light catches the sheen of sweat at his temples. His gaze flicks to your neck again, lingering on the damp tendril of hair clinging to your skin. You watch his throat work as he swallows, the sharp line of his jaw flexing like he’s biting back words.

“You’re being weirdly intense today,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. The gesture aims for lightness, but your voice betrays you—it comes out breathier than intended, almost a challenge.

Will’s laugh is a rough scrape of sound. “Am I?” He shifts the grocery bag to his other hand, plastic crinkling like cellophane fire. His free arm swings briefly toward yours, fingers grazing your knuckles before he shoves both hands into his coat pockets. The fleeting touch leaves your skin buzzing.

You slow your pace, studying him. Moonlight bleeds through the clouds, silvering the tension in his shoulders, the way his collar sits crooked against his throat. There’s something feral in his profile—the dilated pupils, the slight flare of his nostrils as the wind shifts—that makes your stomach swoop. For a heartbeat, you think he might press you against the graffiti-tagged brick wall to your left, his body caging yours in the shadows.

But he keeps walking.

Three more steps, then he stops dead. You nearly collide with him, catching yourself on his forearm. The muscle beneath his sleeve jumps at your touch.

“Will—?”

He doesn’t turn. Just stands there, head bowed, breathing audibly through his nose. The grocery bag hangs forgotten at his side, a litre of milk threatening to slip free. When he finally speaks, his voice is ground glass. “You should’ve worn a jacket.”

You blink. “It’s not that cold.”

A beat. Then his coat hits your shoulders before you can protest, his hands linger at your collarbones, adjusting the lapels with unnecessary focus. His thumbs brush the hollow of your throat, once, twice, before he steps back.

“Better,” he mutters, already striding ahead like he can outpace whatever’s clawing at his ribs.

You hurry to catch up, the coat sleeves swallowing your hands whole. Up close, you notice what you missed before—the tremor in his left hand, the way his pulse thunders visibly at his neck. When he catches you staring, he angles his body away, jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts.

The remaining blocks pass in a fever dream. Every rustle of fabric, every shared glance, every time his shoulder bumps yours feels amplified. By the time your building comes into view, you’re both breathing like you’ve run a marathon, though neither of you will admit it.

At the front door, Will fumbles the keys twice before managing the lock. His hand covers yours on the doorknob, pressing down hard enough to feel the ridges bite into your palm.

“After you,” he says, but doesn’t move aside—just crowds you through the doorway, his chest grazing your back, his breath hot on your nape.

You tell yourself it’s relief that makes your knees weak when he finally retreats to the kitchen, the grocery bag abandoned on the counter. But as you hang up his coat, you press your shoulder to hide the wide grin on your face.

Dinner unfolds in a series of fractured moments. Will stands at the counter, chopping carrots, each thwack echoing off the tiled walls. You sit at the kitchen table, sorting through the junk drawer’s survivors: paperclips glinting like insect legs and rubber bands coiled tight as nerves.

The air smells of ginger and soy sauce. Every time you glance up, his eyes snap back to the cutting board, shoulders rigid. He’s wearing that grey Henley with the stretched collar, the one that exposes the hollow of his throat when he leans forward. You notice sweat dampening the fabric between his shoulder blades.

“You’re hovering,” you say, louder than intended.

He doesn’t answer. Just sets down the knife with exaggerated care and reaches for the kettle. You track his movements—the flex of his forearms as he fills it, the way his thumb rubs compulsively over the handle’s curve. Steam rises as he pours boiling water into two mugs.

The tea appears at your elbow without warning, Earl Grey swirling amber in your favourite mug he’d bought for you last winter. His pinky grazes yours as he withdraws, a spark of contact that lingers.

“Movie tonight?” he asks, leaning back against the sink. His arms cross over his chest, biceps straining the sleeves. Will leans back against the sink, the edge of the counter biting into his hip, but he doesn’t seem to notice. The sleeves of his Henley strain against his biceps, fabric pulling taut where his muscles flex unconsciously. A droplet of water slides down his wrist, tracing the ropy veins of his forearm before disappearing under his rolled cuff. You track its path, hypnotised by the way it catches the flickering kitchen light, until his throat bobs with a hard swallow.

He clears his throat. The sound is sandpaper-rough, startlingly loud in the cramped kitchen. You drag your gaze upward, past the smudge of flour on his collarbone and the damp hair curling at his nape, to find him watching you through his lashes. The fluorescent light overhead buzzes, casting sickly shadows under his eyes. For a heartbeat, he looks almost feral—jaw clenched, nostrils flared, the pulse at his temple throbbing visibly. Then he blinks, and the illusion shatters.

“Sure. Your pick.”

He nods but makes no move to leave the kitchen. His gaze burns a hole through the back of your head as you resume sorting. Rubber bands snap into a jar. Paperclips clink like loose change. The silence stretches, taut and humming, until—

“Casablanca”, he says abruptly.

You blink. “Since when do you like old movies?”

“Since never.” He pushes off the counter, mug abandoned. “But you do.”

The admission hangs between you, fragile as the steam still curling from your tea.

The couch has never felt this small.

Will’s usual sprawl—all loose limbs and careless angles—has been replaced by a coiled tension that makes the cushions dip dangerously toward him. His left arm rests along the back of the sofa, not quite touching your shoulders, but the heat of him bleeds through your thin jumper anyway. On screen, a spaceship disintegrates in silence. Neither of you registered the title when he queued it up, too busy pretending not to track each other’s movements.

His fingers find your hair first.

It starts as a graze—the rough pad of his thumb brushing the nape of your neck as he tucks a stray strand behind your ear. You stiffen, but he doesn’t retreat. Instead, he twirls the lock around his index finger, the motion hypnotically slow. His breathing hitches, audible even over the movie’s sudden explosion of gunfire.

“Will?” you whisper, turning your head just enough to see his profile.

He freezes. Moonlight from the half-open blinds stripes his face, sharpening the hunger in his expression before he can school it into something neutral. His thumb presses harder against your neck, a silent plea for you to stay still.

Then he sniffs.

A slow, deliberate inhale, his nose dragging along your temple. His breath fans hot over your skin, uneven and shallow, as if he’s been running. You feel the flutter of his eyelashes against your cheekbone when he blinks.

“You smell different,” he rasps, lips grazing the shell of your ear. The words vibrate through you, low and frayed at the edges.

Your heart stutters. “I—what?”

He doesn’t answer. Just buries his face in your hair, nuzzling the sensitive spot behind your ear with a low groan that makes your thighs clench. His free hand grips the couch cushion, fabric tearing under his fingernails.

“Your perfume,” he mutters, voice thick. “It’s… new.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out as a gasp. “Since when do you notice my perfume?”

His teeth graze your earlobe—a split-second scrape that might’ve been accidental. “Since it’s this one.” The hand in your hair tightens, tugging just enough to tilt your head back. His other palm lands heavy on your knee, fingers digging into the denim. “What’s in it?”

“I don’t—vanilla? Amber?” You’re babbling, hyperaware of his thumb tracing circles on your inner thigh. “Why?”

Will huffs a laugh against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “Been driving me fucking mental all day.” His voice rumbles through your chest where you’re pressed together, warm and honey-thick with confession.

Heat floods your cheeks. “You—” You twist to face him, but he catches your chin, calloused fingers tilting your head up. His eyes are heavy-lidded and gleaming, the blue-grey irises gone stormy at the edges.

“Yeah,” he admits, unashamed. “Full stalker mode. Followed you around the shop like a starving dog.” His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, daring you to scold him. “Pathetic, really. Nearly growled at that old lady for smirking at us.”

You laugh, swatting his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Guilty.” He nuzzles your jaw, scruff catching on delicate skin as his earlier intensity melts into something softer, sweeter. “Should’ve warned me. That perfume’s a biological weapon.” His nose trails down your neck, inhaling deeply with an exaggerated sniff that sends you into giggles.

“Oh, please,” you snort, tangling your fingers in his hair. “You’re just dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Will nips your earlobe, gentle this time. “You leaned over the milk cartons. Practically waved your neck under my nose.” His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your ribs. “Sabotage.”

“I was checking expiration dates!”

“Cruel.” He kisses the offended pout off your lips, slow and lingering. He groans, flopping back against the cushions and dragging you with him in a tangle of limbs. “Going to have words with your friend,” he grumbles, even as his hands settle possessively at your waist. “Gifting chemical warfare disguised as perfume. Criminal negligence.”

“Hey!” You pinch his side, laughing as he jerks away with a yelp. “She has excellent taste!”

“Taste?” Will rolls his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “That stuff’s lethal. Bet she’s cackling in her evil lair right now.” He tugs your wrist to his nose, breathing deep with a mock-agonised sigh. “Probably spiked it with pheromones.”

You prop yourself up on his chest, smirking down at his ridiculous pout. “Jealous she found my signature scent first?”

“Devastated.” His hands slide up to frame your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. For once, there’s no humour in his stormy gaze—just raw, disarming honesty. “Should’ve been me.”

The kiss starts soft, a barely-there press of lips that quickly deepens when your fingers find his hair. Somewhere in the apartment, the forgotten movie’s credits music swells dramatically. Will breaks away first, forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath.

“For the record,” he murmurs, nose bumping yours, “you’re banned from wearing that to Ikea. Or libraries. Or—”

The protest dies in his throat as you kiss him—really kiss him—your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His lips part instinctively, a low hum of satisfaction vibrating between you as he tilts his head to deepen the angle. There’s nothing tentative about it now: his hands slide up your back, anchoring you against him with a possessiveness that steals your breath.

He tastes like Earl Grey and the dark chocolate bar he’d pocketed at the shop—bitter-sweet, addictive. His stubble scrapes your cheek as he breathes you in, but neither of you care enough to pull away. When your teeth graze his bottom lip, he lets out a ragged groan, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Christ,” he mutters against your mouth, the word more prayer than curse. His thumb brushes the hinge of your jaw, coaxing you to open for him again, and you do—gladly—melding together in a rhythm that feels older than either of you. The couch creaks as he shifts, pressing you into the cushions until there’s no space left between hips, between heartbeats.

Before you can protest, his arms lock around your waist like steel bands, dragging you sideways into his lap. His legs loop over yours, pinning you to the couch in a tangle of limbs. A shudder runs through him as he buries his face in the junction of your neck, nose pressed to your pulse point.

“Will—?”

He doesn’t answer. Just holds you tighter, his breath hot and unsteady against your skin. Slowly, you relax into the vice of his embrace. Your fingers card through his hair, nails scraping gently at his scalp. He lets out a sound, half groan, half sigh, and nuzzles deeper into your neck. The tension bleeds from his shoulders incrementally, his death grip on your waist softening to something almost reverent.

“You’re clingy tonight,” you murmur, smoothing the rumpled hair at his temple.

“M’not,” he mumbles into your collarbone, though his legs immediately tangle with yours, pinning you to the couch. His nose nudges the hollow of your throat, inhaling deeply, as if memorising the scent. “S’your fault. Drugged me.”

You snort, fingertips tracing idle patterns down his spine. “Dramatic to the end.”

He hums, noncommittal, his lips brushing your pulse point. The credits still roll, bathing the room in shifting blue light, but Will’s breathing already slows—deep, even pulls of air that stir the neckline of your shirt. His grip loosens incrementally, heavy limbs going lax as sleep claims him.

You don’t dare move. Not when his lashes flutter against your skin, not when his fingers twitch against your hip in some dream. The weight of him is solid and warm, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath your palm.

“Will?” you whisper.

A soft snore answers, his exhale warming the hollow of your throat. You stretch carefully, fingertips grazing the crumpled throw blanket at the foot of the couch. The fabric whispers as you drag it upward, dust motes swirling gold in the TV’s dying light.

He stirs when the blanket settles—a grumpy murmur vibrating against your collarbone. His arms tighten reflexively, legs cinching around yours like living rope. “Nuh,” he slurs, half-asleep, protest muffled in your skin.

“Octopus”, you accuse under your breath, laughter softening the word.

His only reply is to nuzzle deeper, lips brushing your pulse in unconscious affection. You let your hand drift back to his hair, carding through the messy strands. His sigh is a quiet surrender, breath evening out as he sinks deeper into dreams.

The credits fade to black. In the sudden dark, his heartbeat becomes your compass—steady thuds beneath your palm, syncing with yours until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin. His legs stay stubbornly tangled with yours, a human anchor keeping you grounded.

Sleep comes slowly, tethered to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. His breaths paint the silence—a soft whistle in his nose, the faint tick of a swallowed snore. You press a kiss to the damp hair at his temple, lingering just long enough to memorise the warmth of his skin. Your eyelids grow heavy, the last thing you feel is the weight of his arm across your waist, anchoring you to this moment—to him—as the world dissolves into the slow, heavy pull of sleep.

#willne x fem!reader #will lenney x fem!reader #will lenney x reader #willne oneshot

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vhaos-chaotic-writing · 7 months ago

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HII you don’t have to do this and srsly I hope you day is amazing and GAHH IM SO SORRY IM SHY I’ve never requested anything before >0<

But I was wondering if it’s okay to request TFP yandere Arcee with a fem cybertronian reader? I just love my arcee content ghghgh

Love uuu 💕💕 (also sorry if this is a bother AA-)

NOT A BOTHER!!! I LIKE THIS REQUEST!!! \(@^0^@)/ I'm still working on a TFA request, the "Rebirth" TFO Optimus part 2 and I have many ideas to write! (╹ڡ╹ )

(TFP) Yandere!Arcee w/ Fem!Cybertronian!Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, typical violence from the show and a little bit more. Reader is female, cybertronian and an Autobot (and just an inch smaller than Arcee because I say so). Use of (Y/N). Cliffjumper was an ArceeReader shipper def def.

As I stated on a past post, my TFP Arcee is a violent yandere.

The suffering, the loss and the trauma has made her resent, hate and be stuck in her own cycle of grief, the anger boiling her energon and from time to time making her sight get blinded from the wrath and need to bring justice by her own servo against those who have hurt her - who have hurt the ones she loved and care for.

Arcee is a force that, while not may be the strongest, is still moving and always stands up, again and again. It's like a fire that can't be but off, growing again and again to burn everything in her path.

Everything - except you.

Precious you; one of her teammates that has been nothing but sweet, kind, patient and respectful with Arcee.

At first she tried to push you away, so she could be consumed by the fire of her wrath on her own.

But you kept trying and trying to reach for her - and you managed to make your way into her spark.

"Leave me alone, (Y/N)." Arcee growled, frowning as she clenched and unclenched her jaw, her servos, feeling like she was about to explode like a bomb.

With a concerned frown, you approach her slowly but making sure to make your steps be heard and slowly wrap your arms around her torso.

And the contact of your frame and her suddenly makes everything go silent for her.

And Arcee is surprised - since she lost Tailgate, everything became too loud. When she lost Cliffjumper, everything became too deafning it was making her go mad.

But with you... everything is quiet.

That long lost peace came back to her.

"Please, don't close off with that suffering from us, from me, Arcee." You say, nearly sounding pleading. Your helm rested against the back of hers. "You are important to us - to me. I can't stand and just... see you suffer by yourself. I won't ask you to forgive, to forget or - or anything. Just... let me stand by your side, please."

From that day on, Arcee felt like her spark and yours bonded; it was like whatever your spark felt, hers felt it too.

While she allowed to open herself, to vent and let out the sorrow she kept holding at the loss and grieving, healing from it and learning to let go of Tailgate's and Cliffjumper's death as you held her - her obsessive, violent love for you started to bloom.

The rest of the team at first were so happy to see you and her bonding, growing closer and see you getting to help Arcee to heal and move on.

But then things started to get... more concerning.

And you noticed it, too.

In the beginning you thought nothing about it - yes, Arcee was glued to you, but that's what friends do (even more at times of war). You brought her support, unconditional love and care. For Primus' sake, you and her started to fall in love! (It was there way before Cliffjumper's death - he was well aware of it, always teasing you and trying to get Arcee to develop a crush on you, too).

But... she would always act as a small barrier between you and the others. It was subtle and passive (slightly more aggressive with Smokescreen around, it didn't go well when he flirted a little with you when he arrived...)

And you finally understood how badly the situation was relating to Arcee when you were out on a mission with her.

"(Y/N)!!!" Arcee's scream made Bumblebee, Optimus, Smokescreen, and Bulkhead turn their helms at where Arcee and you were.

All of you got out on a mission after Ratchet managed to pin point a cave full of energon - if all of you wanted to get that energon back to the base, then you all needed as many servos as possible to carry it. But of course, the decepticons arrived in time with the same objective and a battle broke out.

The autobots got to take the majority of raw energon they could way before the decepticons arrived - and Optimus called for a retreat. But when you started to run towards the groundbridge, about to grab Arcee's servo so you two could run together and escape with the others, a still standing vehicon fired its weapon at you.

The shot reached your backplates, making you let out a pained cry as you fell to the ground. Arcee's wail was loud. And for her, everything started to go too slow.

Your expression of pain, your frame falling forward to the ground as your optics were locked with hers full of pain and already forming tears, the smoke coming from your injury, the weight of your frame falling into her arms, the shape of the vehicon with its weapon pointed at you...

Arcee saw nothing but red.

Arcee heard nothing but your cry, echoing inside of her systems, hurting her whole being as if she was the one injured.

The moment she heard the heavy steps of Bulkhead and Bee's beepings getting closer to where you two were, she got to let you kneeling on the ground, and when Bee was reaching for you to hold, Arcee allowed him to take her place... and started to run towards the vehicon.

Neither Bulkhead, Optimus nor Smokescreen got the opportunity to shoot at the vehicon when Arcee was already over them.

With the cry of a warrior, full of wrath and a burning despair, Arcee started to punch the vehicon, keeping it pinned on the ground harshly with one of her servos while she kept punching it with her other servo. Arcee kept screaming like a wounded animal, her optics holding nothing but the need to destroy, the need to kill. Her punches even broke the vehicon's faceplate and kept going to the point she started to splatter energon with each following punch.

The gory sight made the little remaining vehicons to retreat, too. Leaving their already lost teammate at the mercy of Arcee's hate.

When the offlined vehicon's faceplate was no longer recognizable and there was silence around her, Arcee stopped screaming and punching, catching her breath and staring down at the destroyed vehicon that dared to hurt you.

There was energon dirtying her servos, her frame, even a little bit her faceplate. Her throat felt raw for screaming that much and with such force.

The others were... frozen in place.

Arcee slowly turned towards her team, but they soon became blurred shapes when her attention was put on you. And she left the broken vehicon and ran towards you. Bee moved quickly away from you, and Arcee held you close to her.

"You'll be okay, (Y/N) - You'll be okay. You'll be okay." Arcee started to mumble, quick to carry you with her arms and servos and ran towards the groundbridge. "Don't worry, it's okay - you'll be okay. They can't hurt you anymore, I'll keep you safe. I'll avenge you."

You were still alive, the injury was not life treatening - hurtful, yes, but you'll live. But her muttering, her words, her promises... it made your spark twist, fearful. You could only stare up at Arcee with fear. The energon on her frame now dirtying you.

Back in the base, while Ratchet treated you and Arcee made you company, never letting go of your servo, the rest of the team quietly discussed about what just happened... about how destructive Arcee was, ending the life of the vehicon that got to hurt you in such a gruesome way, with her own servos.

Her love for you was too violent - she would destroy, burn and kill anything if it meant to keep you safe and sound. She was going to end everything before it takes you away from her.

I need Arcee to get me pregnant. ♪(´▽｀) Vhaos out!

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers prime #yandere x reader #yandere transformers #transformers prime x reader #tfp x reader #tfp arcee x reader #yandere arcee

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matchamiko · 1 year ago

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#9 - aizawa - fluffy +18 👉👈 no rush at all and sry if 9 was taken aa

˚₊ ⊹ 9. Bleary morning kisses, even while still half-asleep + Aizawa Shouta

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: somnophilia (past consent given but dubcon just in case I guess, it’s only for like two paragraphs), oral f - receiving, pro-hero Aizawa, built like a house Aizawa, size kink.

You're a vision to him, always have and always will be. Especially when you're like this, curled up under the white sheets surrounded by numerous soft toys and pillows shaped like petals and flowers and all sorts cute. A shoulder teases him, curved in the sunrise of a grey sky, not quite shining but not quite as dull as predicted, rising and falling with the quiet snores he can hear from your chest. Aizawa is a little saddened to have ever missed sleeping next to you, hearing your heavy breaths and feeling you fold in on yourself in the strange, contortionist way you prefer. He used to be offended that you didn't often cuddle, believing it to be a key factor in a healthy, successful relationship but he found that he's just as, if not more content just to know you're in his bed and snoozing soundly next to him.

You twitch when he sits up, sheet falling to his waist and he feels a little sticky from the hot night, and maybe from not moving much, the welts on his arms and sides a testament to that. Aizawa knows you're a light sleeper during the night, always waking up when he starts to get ready for patrol or when he returns, even dragging your blankets to the living room to doze on the couch while he marks assignments by the light of his laptop. But in the mornings when it's chilly and prickly and oh so fresh; you're harder to wake than the dead.

Aizawa thinks it's cute really, reaching beneath the sheet to untangle your hands from where they're pressed tightly into your chest. He knows it's bad for you, and so do you but it's comfortable and stable for you, like a weight on your chest to help you through the night. He knows it's bad, but he can't help but raise your arm to his nose and inhale the spot on the inside of your wrist, where your scent is the strongest and the muskiest from where it's been enclosed and baking all throughout the night beside your heart. Eyes close blearily, fluttering when his tongue darts out to taste you, the shining trail drying as Aizawa reaches the crook of your elbow. He's barely awake, grunting with the creaks in his back and the stiffness of his neck, chapped lips tracing the greenish veins up over your bicep to your shoulder, that sweet, sweet skin giving way so softly for him.

You sigh in your sleep, adjusting a little but falling against him harder, allowing him to loop your limp arm around his neck so he can dive nose first into your neck. Your hairline is a little damp, and Aizawa stifles a chesty groan when he kisses there, down the giving muscle of your throat. He's sloppy, a little careless of your sleeping form and your arm drops from his neck as he pulls the stretchy fabric of your vest down your sternum,

"Uhhn - " you grumble with a start, eyes opening one at a time and then remaining closed with the feel of a heavy body over yours. It's overwhelming in a way, waking up to your partner looming over your body like a lion consuming his prey, tits out to the chilly air and itchy with the scratch of his stubble. One eye opens. Aizawa stares up at you through the mess of his hair, eyes dark and sleepy, body fluid with yours as you roll on to your back and stretch,

"'m all sticky this morning," you complain with a crackly voice, legs peeling apart grossly. Aizawa huffs against your chest, one hand cupping your breast and the other struggling to behave itself,

"Heh, bet y'are," he hears you grumble in response, reaching out to scratch the top of his head affectionately and Aizawa suddenly decides against delving into your underwear in favour of heaving himself up over you, "Hullo, did you sleep okay? You slept through all night for once, well done,"

You swallow and heat up at his praise, however gruff and somewhat hard it comes out of him. His hair shields you from the rising sun and the sound of people beginning their commute to work and you reach to brush a little dust from his eye, chin jerking upwards with an invitation.

"Mhm," you don't trust your voice much in the mornings, especially when Aizawa is so close to you with sleep in his face and hardness between his legs. He obliges to your request, barely kissing you but it's sweet and it's needed and it's honestly beautiful. Dipping low, arms folding and bulging, head cocking to one side and then the other with every sticky kiss he gives you. His chest presses against yours, hair bristly but soft at your insistence in the showers every night, shoulders practically singing at his movements, and you sigh. You sigh into his mouth with a smile. You sigh when his rough fingers stretch into your underwear, sticky and pearly. You sigh louder when he grunts at the immense effort it takes to move his broad body down between your legs, those singing shoulders mean and bullying the supple skin of your thighs over them. Your sigh turns to a croaky, open mouthed gasp when his tongue parts the folds of your cunt, hot from sleep and boasting a scent that has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Dipping and licking with little slurps, barely touching you but overwhelming you with the stretch of his tongue and the sweet suction of his lips,

"S'early still," he mumbles, kissing your clit with a lazy smack and looking up at you with an even lazier smile at your reclined and positively angelic form, "M'gonna take my time sweetness,"

#I was listening to the chainsaw man soundtrack when I did this somehow #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #Aizawa smut #Aizawa Shouta smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #miko.prompt challenge #miko.chats #miko.muses

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st4rryyynight · 13 days ago

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Hello! Can I plz request the ROTTMNT turtles reacting to their s/o being girly? Their s/o is very hygienic, smells good all the time, their skin glows, their hair is always done perfectly, they wear beautiful and cute clothes, their nails are always done perfectly. They also love to collect plushies, bake and cook in their free time, and they also love donating to charities and shelters. They also have creation powers where they can create anything they want (i.e money, diamonds, etc).

★ohhhh,, (reader) sounds like such a sweetheart in this erhhhzzzz O_o !!★

★ — rise!turtles with a girly reader with creation powers !!

WARNING: GIF & FAST AND MOVING IMAGERY !!

★ — romantic coded !

★ — trigger warnings / tw: mentions of bleeding (raph's & donnie's part)

★ — content warnings / cw: headcanons, x reader / oc, canon x reader, fem!reader..still using they/them pronouns, reader is human this time, not proof read

❤️ — rise!raph x girly!reader !!

☆ — jumpin' jack flash- you're adorable. one of the cutest people he's ever met. so kind, so sweet- generous to everyone.. those are just a few of your qualities that make him swoon for you. he doesn't want to exagerate, but your generous and charitable traits are heroic in his eys, and you know raph love's heroic stuff !!

☆ — your appearance also plays a huge part on how he sees you- you look so perfect all the time that he could almost compare you to a porcelain doll ! and the clothes that you wear are so gorgeous-- they almost make you look like a bunny. raaa, he definitely has a short case of cuteness agression everytime he sees you, and just wants to hug you and never let go !! thoughh, since he is afraid of both hurting you and ruining your adorable fits with his scales, he holds back on the touchiness. no matter how much you look like a cute plushie, he can't risk damaging nor you, nor your clothing.

⁠☆ — ..speaking of plushies-- he now has someone to share his collection !! and urh,, that someone is you. he gets so happy whenever you show him a new plushie that you collected, or heck even- gift him one !! sometimes you two do trades with the plushies that you collect, it's just something sweet that you guys do every once in a while.

☆ — he is also amazed, and a little confused as to how you can buy so many things and seemingly not run out of money. and not just purchase stuff for your self- but also give out generous amounts of cash to numourous charities ! he is, well- curious, and wonders where you get all that money from, but as long as you are using them for the greater good, then who is he to judge ?

☆ — however, even though he tries to not overthink it, it's still strange to him as to how you always carry so much cash on you, and also being so comfortable making expensive purchases almost every week.. you must come from a rich family huh ?? or maybe you are a hard woke at whatever job you may be doing ! raph admires hard workers, and if that's the case then his respect for you has just been pumped up to aa 110% !! it is possible to go over 100% right ?? huh could ask donnie about this- ..wait, did you just-

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"jumpin' jack fla-, (READER) OH MIGOSH -!" the loud, worried tone of the snapper cut through the silence like a knife, making (reader) let out a soft gasp as they spun around to look at him with surprise in their eyes- a small clattering sound following soon after, as a what looked shard fell down near them.

"ra-raph, hey -!"

"are you- ARE YOU OKAY ?? IS THAT GLASS- DID IT JUST- ARE YOU HURT ??" raph interupted (reader) anxiously, loudly, as he hurried over to them- eyes filled with worry as he in breathed in and out, trying to rationalise the situation.

"you- you are not bleeding, are ya ??" he looked over at their arm, gently taking it in his own bandaged hand- looking for any cuts after a literal shard broke out of their skin.

"..raph, no- no, im.. im fine." in response, (reader) squeezed the snapper's hand slightly, giving him a reassuring, yet nervous look as they tugged their arm away from the mutant's grasp.

"fine ?? fine ?! you-you just had a shard fall from- from the inside of your arm !" the snapper argued worriedly, huffing out as he looked at you rather tensely

"it's okay big man, im-im good !" giving a small smile, albeit an unsure one- they gave themselves a moment to breath before going to pick up the fallen shard- only for raph to stop them.

"wait wait wait- you can't just pick up glass like that, you might cut yourself !" he shoved reader's hand away, and went to pick up the piece of glass himself with his own, rougher hand. one good thing about having rough scales is that you don't get cuts as easily.

though as raph went to scoop up the piece, he stopped.

"wait- (reader).. this don't look like glass.." he spoke skeptically, head tilting in a curious manner. he hesitantly touched the shard- a bit surprised to find that it's surface was quite polished, brightly reflecting against the lair's lights. regular glass wouldn't reflect so brightly against lights. right ?

however, what he was most puzzled by was that- despite the shard literally breaking out from reader's skin.. there wasn't any blood on it. not a single drop trickling down from it.

raph chuffed to himself, thick fingers curling around the shard as he finally picked it up- a confused expression on his face as he turned towards (reader), who was now looking around- a bit awkarded out, or rather, anxious about the whole situation.

raph raised a brow at their worried demeanor.

"urh.. (reader) - how, how did you-" the snapper stumbled on his words, mind hazy as he tried to string his thougths into words. he brought the shard up to his face- to which the more he looked at it, the more he realised that it looked like a crystal of some sorts- a diamond maybe.

"how did you get this- looks like it costs a fortune.."

"raph, you know I already have a fortune.." they tried to play it cool, laughing off the snapper's question softly.

"no- no doubt that you do, it's just a little strange that you have- this- this looks like it belongs in a.. in a museume or something !!" he knocked on the gem with a knuckle, inspecting it curiously- though stopping midway as he realised that he wasn't asking the right questions

"or.. no- how did this break out of your arm ?1 and- and why aren't you cut- or injured ?!"

"oh- eh, that, let me-" reader reached out to get the diamond back, only for raph to pull it away from them.

"na-na-na-nah ! you are not getting this back till you explain to me what is goin' on !" he spoke rather sternly- like an older brother.. well, he is the older brother- but he's never used that kind of tone for (reader).

they, in return shrunk back a little. they knew that raph wouldn't let this slide that easily, and leaving the snapper all confused wouldn't be the best solution to getting out of this situation. with a small sigh, almost a defeated one- (reader's) shoulders slumped back down as they took a moment to relax

"okay.. hah- you caught me -! guess I should tell you since you wanna learn so badly."

"spill it." he muttered in a quite, gruff tone- though he's words didn't seem commanding nor threatening, something that eased up (reader) a bit.

"alright- so, the reason that uhh.. a diamond just broke out of my skin, is a little- peculiar." they took in a small breath whilst raph gave them a curious, skeptical look.

"so I basically uhh.. I have a special ability- somewhat like uhh, a superpower that, well-" they choked on their own words for a moment, hesitant to speak- though raph egged them on- encouraging or more so, pressuring them to speak, even if that wasnt his intention.

"well ?? go on -!"

"I have creation powers."

raph perked up at their words, a bit shook- and confused as to what they just told him. he shook his head, looked back at the diamond he was holding, and then back at reader.

"uhh..could- could you repeat that -??" he blinked at them in disbelief biting down on his tongue in confusion.

"I- I can create stuff.. on my own will- out of..thin air ??"

raph continued to stare at them, eyes glazed with wonder- though he also seemed... puzzled, distrusting of their statement- almost as if he didn't realise how important this information was. this made (reader) sigh out softly, shaking their head themselves as they gave raph a look.

"oh, haha- I guess I should show you..uh, here, lemme." as they spoke those words, they took in a deep breath- and closed their eyes. in a flash, their palm begun glowing, something that took raph by surprise, causing him to stumble back a little- almost dropping the diamond.

"wait- what - what the ?!" raph muttured softly, in amazement, as he the small glow from their palm started to form into some sort of..mass, that slowly merged out of reader's hand. then the mass formed fuzz- ears, and small soft body. it looked like a plushy- no, it was a plushie. one that was created by reader's own flesh- though it didn't look.. fleshy. it was like a regular plushy you would see at the store.

"voila..! he's yours now, hah..!" reader hand over the plushy to the, the one that they made using their very own powers. raph could only look at it with starry eyes, marvelling over his friend's powers for a minute or two before finally taking the stuffed animal in his hands.

"(reader) that's..that was amazing- you're amazing -! I MEAN, that's amazing !!"

"amazing enough for you to give back the diamond ??"

at reader's teasing tone, raph seemed a little lost- only perking up as he looked back at his hand holding the precious gem.

"OH URH- yeah, yeah !! here-" before he could even offer it, reader swiftly took it from his large palm, gently placing it inside their bag.

"thank you !!" they exclaimed sweetly, beaming at raph with a small smile- though it didn't quite match his, whose grin reached his ears, giddy about his friend's special power.

"what- what you just did is amazing !! you could use those powers to do- urrhh, such good in the world !"

"awhh, raph, don't act like I already don't use them for that reason !"

"my respect for you grows everyday, y'know that right ??"

"daww, thank you !!

💜 — rise!donnie x girly!reader !!

☆ — okay, let's be honest. his type in girls is cute yet mean, but you?? you are an expection. you are cute- you dress cute and are such a sweetheart, at times it's almost overwhelming how sweet you can be. overwhelminggly charming, almost as if he can't handle your elegant and kind personality.

☆ — he appreciates how hygienic you are. no but, really- how is every little detail on you always so on point ?? from your nails being miraculously trimmed, to your skin always glowing and being soft to the touch.. it's almost surreal to him how one can be so perfect. he suspects that either you either are really dedicated in taking care of yourself and your appearance, or you are just.. not human. because, no human would as divine as you are 24/7.

☆ — knowing him and his love for gift-giving, along with your obvious love for using cosmetics and staying pretty, he'd probably make a bunch of his makeup supplies with the help of science !! yep, just for you- he'll design them to fit your colour-pallete and sensory preferences, and even how it'll react on your skin if it's sensitive

☆ — he's honestly a little urh- shook, or rather entraced at how generous you are.. donating to numerous charities, your pockets are always full of money.. how do you do it ?? y'know what- let him beg you to give him some of that cash and THEN tell him.

☆ — no, but really.. where do you get all this money from ?? are you a thief ?? well, he couldn't care less of you were one, you could be partners in crime honestly- but he is still skeptical. the most logical explanation that he has is that you either sell makeup products, have a store with those godly baked goods that you make, or-wait.. you can do WHAT ??

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

★ — "GASPPPP !" the surprised voice of a softshell in particular made (reader) drop whatever they were doing- or rather, whatever they were holding, to spin around and look at donatello.

"ohh, haha- heya donnie." (reader) offered a small smile, one soft as ever- yet also a little nervous, as they bent down to quickly scoop up the item that they dropped, which was: a diamond.

"how's-how's it going ??"

"don't you 'how's it going- wait, did- did that.." he glared at the diamond with skeptical eyes, then back at (reader)- his eyes now analytical, widened.

"did that diamond just- come out from your hand- I knew it ! you aren't human, I knew it !"

"huh ?? wait, dee, no, no, that's not it-"

"ohh spare the excuses (reader) !! no human would be able to- to pull out such precious material out of the palm of their hand !" he pointed a finger accusingly at them, his tone almost dramatic as he ranted to them his conspiracys about them.

"so that's how you get all your stash.. you- you must be a diamond-yokai !" he rushed over to them, goggles now over his eyes as he begun scanning for any possible info regarding them not being human. it was honestly a bit amusing seeing him drop theory after theory, without him knowing how wrong he viewed this whole situation.

"I mean- it is the ONLY logical explanation- you must be taking diamond shards out of your body and exchanging them for cash !! that must be why you are so comfortable with spending money on makeup supplies and donating to charities every week, which- is a lot disturbing on it's own as a thought, but it's the only-"

his rambling didn't last long though, as it was soon cut by letting out a soft giggle, smiling as shook their head. they knew that they couldn't hide their abilities from him anymore, so they decided to spill the truth.. that, or the scientist would never get off their tail.

"no, no, donnie, listen." they slid off, backing away in an rather elegant manner, though almost knocking off the from the terrapin hovering over them off his feet.

"since you've already seen me do it- I guess I should let you in on my secret."

"that- that you are not- !"

"I am human, actually." (reader) huffed out, giggling stiffly as their long, polished nails tapped the edges of the diamond.

"you see dee, I-" they fidgeted with the diamond as they spoke softly, gently bouncing the precious ore in their hand.

"can create stuff."

now donnie's look shifted from curious and wild to a more skeptic and unimpressed one, evident to the reader as he shifted his goggles back on the top of his head.

"hah, scoffff- what human can't create stuff ?" the softshell's voice came off as ironic as he put his hands on his hips, not fully convinced- or rather, understanding where you were going with this.

"you are just trying to disprove my theory !! gasp, how dare you." he crossed his arms as he leaned over closer to (reader), giving them a small mistrusting glare- his mannerisms, as always, dramatic.

"nonono, you don't get it." (reader) now slid their ore into their bag, it's theme matching their elegant and adorable style.

"..I can create stuff- anything out of my flesh. at my own will."

donatello took in a moment of silence, proccesing what you just told him. .

"you-" his eye twiched, words bouncing in his head as he tried to rationalize everything. clearing his throat and taking a small breath as he clasped his hands together.

"you are meaning to tell that- you have some sort of..creation-power thing ??" now his skeptiscim towards you has skyrocketed, and you could see it in his face- though amdist it all, the curiousity and wonder that he felt was practically radiating through that stoic, analytical exterior of his.

"huh, pretty much..yeah ?" reader shrugged their shoulders whilst brushing their flowy, soft hair with a hand.

"woa.." was the only thing that donatello let out, plastron puffing out in almost disbelief, his hand falling near his sides- head down low.

"uh, but-but of course !" he laughed out in a moment of false pride.

"that was totally my second guess ! creation powers..of course." he put his hands on his hips now, straigthening his posture- trying to make it seem as if he had suspected that their had such powers for a long time t'ill now.. which he didn't, he really dug into the conspiracy of you being a yokai.

his desparate attempt at seeming proudful made (reader) giggle, it's always funny seeing the genius be wrong about something- though, that moment of amusement ended as soon as it came once reader was struck with the realazation of what they uncovered,, or rather, who they uncovered it to.

"does that mean that you'll experiment on me now ??"

"oh (reader), why do you ask such questions, it's like you don't know me at all- OF COURSE I will." he muttered in a mock-offended tone, a small disapproving frown ecthing on his beak as he glanced at you.

"besidesss.. I have to actually test the idea of you not being human- it's still on the table, y'know !"

"why- why would I not be human, dee ??"

donnie paused at their question, his own mind blocking out any logical explanation- any explanation that is not driven by the one thing he hates the most: feelings.

"ah- well, I thought that since err, you just had a diamond shard just stab it's way out of your hand..and for some forsaken reason you are not bleeding- which is erm, NOT normal for a human. I figured that you weren't one."

he turned away, shell facing you as he tried to keep his cool, though in a moment of confidence, he spared you a small glance.

"and be-besides, uh.. no human could EVER be as divine and..pretty as you, search it up- trust me, it's scientifically proven !!" he spun around, saying the last part almost frantically- finding his own quips dumb, not shimmering how his words had flattered (reader), who let a small smile sllp up on their face, a smile that further enhached their beauty.

"ALSO- I gotta figure it all out, how you gained you powers, their limtis- everything !" he now spoke excitedly, a sharp turn from his cold, skeptic attitude towars you earlier,

"..though, ahem- I may reconsider- if you, y'know- cooked up some uranium with those powers of your, I mean- you'II you be free from-"

"donnie, that would kill me- and trusting you with uranium would explode us all-" you were cut off as he strolled behind you, cold, reptilian hands shoving you forward.

"alright then ! to the lab we go, 'diamond girl'."

"dee, no-"

💙 — rise!leo x girly!reader !!

☆ — woawah.. what a beautiful person you are. always looking so polished and pretty allll the time. 'your looks kinda match your personality', he quips every now and then. he also probably begged for you to share your secrets as to how your skin is always clean and shiny-- like what kind of skincare do you use, what's your makeup routine like ? man is jealous over here, please give him answers.

☆ — your guys's idea of a hang out is honestly like having a spa day.. with you taking care of most of the work. you bring all the beauty products to the table, applying them to the both of you while he takes note of how you use them for his own-future usage.. a turtle also has to get all dolled up, y'know ?? you guys also probably eat your baked goods while just relaxing during the spa-hours. it's a perfect time for you two to bond, and leo is taking in every moment of it.

☆ — hmmm,, I feel like he would love it if you let him style your hair every now and then. he would be interested in getting you all dolled up and all !! though knowing how much of an ass he can be, he would propably mess some shit up on purpose just to annoy you. maybe ruffling your hair after you've combed it, giving you accesories that just- dont match your cutesy vibe, mushing your makeup a little when he gets the chance to. he finds it amusing when you get mad or annoyed at him for such things, it's almost as if seeing an erh, bunny getting mad. because you are as cute as one in his eyes.

☆ — sometimes, he'll wonder- and suspect as to how, and where, you all that money from.. because everyday, it seems that you have gained more and more to spend on makeup supplies, gorgeous clothing- and donate, without exxageration, millions to numourous charities.. c'mon, don't be shy, tell him your secrets- how do you get all that loot ?? he promises he wont tell anyone.. if you purchase him a couple makeup supplies and the newest JJ comic.. maybe a small loan of five-hundred dollars would seal the deal ?? you are pretty generous to anyone and everyone, so you wouldn't mind exchanging his silence with a few gifts, rightttt ?

☆ — no but in all seriouness, how do you get all that money ?? are you a makeup artist-- do they pay you to give others makeovers ?? if so then, you would have told him right-- I mean, you know how he likes getting all pretty- well, this pretty boy can't get any prettier than he already is, but you get the point ! so his other suspecion is that.. you are a wolf in sheep's clothing- you must be..you must be thief !! putting on a gentle, cute- ..very sweet and adorable persona just to deceive others ! ..or maybe, he is just thinking these things because he is petty- and jealous of your fortune..

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

★ — "oh c'mon, just admit it !! you're a thief aren't you ?!"

"leo, what are you talking about- no im not !!"

"then why did I just see you stuff a bunch of crystals- that clearly don't belong to you, in your bag, hm ??" he questioned, pointing over at the designer bag near your side, his tone rhetorical, accusing as he spoke.

"orrr are my eyes betraying me ??" he cocked his head, a small smirk on his face, one that was almost teasing. a gleam of suspense in his eyes as he looked them up and down.

(reader) took a moment to look down at their bag, a small bead of sweat rolling down their forehead as they tried to think of a way to excuse what leo saw.

"ah, haha.. those are-"

"aren't yours ? yea- figured." replied the slider- hands on his hips as he leaned over, that accusing gaze of his still on (reader).

"and- lemme take a guess here, the money that you spent for all those very, very cool makeup supplies weren't yours either ??"

"leo-"

"nuh-uh, don't try to hide it." the slider huffed, his look towards you almost judgmental.

"these don't belong to you, just because you look all cute and harmless- and..pretty- does- doesn't mean that I will fall for your schemes ! don't you know me- ol'leon isn't falling for any facade !" boasted the turtle in between his accusations, a small smirk splitting up that accusutory look of his. he eyed at your bag with a sly, yet also almost jealous gaze.

"whichhh is why you should give them to me to return them to their rightfull owners - !"

"okay, now you are the one trying to steal my crystals !" (reader) pouted as they swatted away his hand, almost tripping on their heels as they backed away from the mutant.

"uh, no ?? why would I ever steal stolen items ??"

"uhh..the jounals -?"

"hey, that was different, plus- you- you can't find houdini's journals everywhere !"

"like you can with crystals.."

"AHA !! you did steal them !" spoke triumphally the slider as he pointed a finger at them- to which (reader) only groaned disapprovingly.

"but I did not, why would I - stop trying to take my bag !"

"nuh uh, don't deny it - no more excuses, you are busted, carino- !"

"I can make you some crystals as well iif you just stop this madness !!

at their hushed words leo stopped in his tracks, his accusetory look now replaced by a mix of confusion, skeptiscm- and curiousity. his brows narrrowed a little as he played your words in his mind- almost missing the small gasp that left reader as they realized what they just uncovered.

"you can..what- run that back - run that back for a moment, would ya??" leo urged, moving his wrist in a circular motion as to further emphasise his want for an explanation out of them.

"I've uhh- nothing !! no need to discuss this further-"

"NONONO- you've piqued my interest now, go on, explain -!!" he stepped a little closer to them, looking over them in suspense as he cocked his head slightly- something that made (reader) tense a little, embarrased at themselves as to how they could let him know about their special ability.

"..and I promised to myself that I wouldn't tell anyone." they looked away, huffing out, almost dissapointgly.

"fine- fine, so uh, I guess it's time for me to debunk your theory of me being a thief, huh ?"

"wha'tcha mean ?"

(reader) bit their tongue for a moment before continuing their sentece.

"okay, so the reason of me having all those fancy things- makeup and all, isn't because I steal them."

"convince me otherwise." as they spoke, leo narrowed his eyes mistrustingly- firm on his theory, as always.

"that's literally what im trying to do here-" they argued briefly, biting back their annoyance towards the slider's petty attitude.

"THE POINT IS- just like you have your portals, I can do some magic of my own !"

"magicsaidwhatnow" in a flash, the slider's petty attitude crumbled, his way of speaking now more dorky and lighthearted, and in return (reader) eased up as well, the softest smirk appearing on their face.

"hah, oh yea- you are not the only one with cool powers here.." looking back at him, they noticed that his eyes were filled with wonder.

"what- what kinda powers, I need to k-"

"creation powers !"

leo was taken aback for a moment, the wonder in his eyes fading a little as that skeptic look of his made it's return on his face, he chuffed out a little, a sly smirk slipping up on his face as he crossed his arms.

"oh ?? creation powers you say ?"

"yup."

"why don't I believe you ?"

"cause you haven't seen me use them yet." putting their hands on their hips, (reader) gave a little a grin towards leo- a rather confident one as they saw leo's sly facade crrumble again at their words.

"well- well, let's see you use em then..!"

nodding their head, that soft grin still on their face, (reader) took a small breath and put their powers to use. in the blink of an eye, their palm begun glowing- and soon enough, much to leo's awe- the glow then took shape and..a makeup brush emerged out from reader's hand. emerging from their palm- as in breaking out of their skin.

"ewgh- gross.." the slider cringed at the sight, not expecting for their powers to work like that. was he waiting for something more majestic ?? maybe. at least the glow that surrounded the object was cool to look at.

"oh- my powers are gross now are they ??" reader remarked as they reached into their bag, taking out their makeup pallete, dunking the makeup brush in rouge before applying to their cheeks, their tone teasing and one of mock-offense.

"wait- no, nonono- not what I meant- huh, HEY- this isn't a crystal !"

"oh, I know- crystals actually take some time and patience to form.. which you have neither." they giggled out playfully- to which the slider pouted, biting down his words in pettiness.

"plus, you only wanted proof of my powers, correct ??"

"..yea."

"thought sooo." they closed the makeup pallete, waving the makeup brush around- figdeting with the object as they twirled it around in their fingers. leo, getting distracted by the motion, felt his eyes widen a bit- still trying to proccess what his friend did.

"sooo.. that's how you get all your supplies, huh ?" he asked rhetorically, feeling envious of their unique abilities, though he couldn't help but let his more dorky side come into the light.

"huh, not really..I could, but supporting bussinesses is way more refreshing." they eyed him, reading the slider like a book- a little amused by his envy. for a moment, leo just nodded silently- though jealousy still seeped from him, when suddenly- he broke out of his silent state.

"wait- waitwait..." leo put a hand in front of them, signaling them to take a pause to register their words in his head.

"you..you have cool powers such as these and didn't tell me about them ?! aa, the betrayal..!" he cried, tone dramatic as he put a hand on his forehead, looking like a swooning woman from a bad soap opera.

"oh (reader) this is worse than theft- no, you robbed me off my trust, how could you !!"

"leooo.." they called out lowly, sighing out expenctingly as the slider put on his dramatic persona- one that was broken by his laugther not too long after.

"alright, alright-- I'll cut it out okay ??" snorted out leo, who covered his face with a hand to muffle his own laugther.

"but- hah, but that doesn't mean that I'll forgive you for this y'know- ?? unless, y'know..-"

admitedly, this made (reader) let out a quite chuckle of their own.

"okay okay, I'll create those makeup supplies for you, m'kay ?"

"now we are talking, you are the best (reader) !"

"..weren't you just accusing me of theft ??"

"ap-ap-ap, we don't speak of this -"

🧡 — rise!mikey x girly!reader !!

☆ — awwwhhh, aren't you just am angel !! he looked at you with literal stars in his eyes, awe evident on his face at how pretty you were, and still are, you still are gorgeous !! he probably thought you were some porcelain doll at first with how polished you look. glowing skin, soft hands- nails always on point, clothes always ironed and prestine- and so cute too ! you honestly remind him of a sanrio character just by the way you dress /pos.

☆ — he would loveee to do your makeup once, or at least, try to do it !! knowing him though, he would probably wanna draw a creative little pattern on your face with your makeup supplies, which they may clash with your own- soft and rosy like makeup looks. however, if you do let him draw pretty patterns on your face, he'll make sure to do them as perfectly and pretty as he can.. pretty patterns to match your pretty face. oh oh- could he also, pretty please, paint your nails ?! he has a few ideas that will match your totes-cute style ! he would even create some accesories for your plushies.. bows, bracelets- maybe even little comstumes for them?? maybe ones that resemble you and him in a way- ohmigosh, you should tottaly have matching accesories !!

☆ — hmm, he would so let you experiment with new makeup on his face, or bandana !! he would get soooo giddy if you ever agreed to test your makeup on him.. he calls it a 'win win'- because you get to practice your makeup skills and test out numerous styles, and he gets to have all sorts of pretty patterns on his face ! he could never get tired of it !! he already loves art and all, so he would love having some on his face.

☆ — he is bouncing on his feet at thought of cooking or baking with you, and is honestly starstruck at how you mastered the art of cultury- even if it;s just a hobby for you. he would to make sweet and cute-looking snacks with you.. heartshaped sugar cookies, pastel-coloured cakes, and other types of visually pleasing, yummy food !

☆ — hey, maybe that's how you are getting your money !! you must be selling those delicious sweets you bake, right ?? huh- what, no ? okay, then you surely must be a makeup guruu ! ..not that either ? then how- ..wait, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY-

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"OMIGOSHH !!" and they were caught in the act- the excited voice of the box turtle gave that impression way as he stood there baffled- or rather in awe at what he just witnessed them do. I mean, how couldn't be amazed after he saw a bunch of dollar bills emerge out of (reader's) hand ?

(reader)- although shooken up by his sudden appearance, did not shimmer his excitement- instead, they felt a little nervous. letting out a small gasp, they let the cash fall from their hand- huffing out a little as they tried to compose themselves, to give a reasonable explanation to the excited box turtle. though, before they could even utter a word, they were interupted by him again.

"how- how did you do that ?! did that money just - just come out of your hand- ohhh migosh that was so cool !!" shaking his arms, practically bouncing around- mikey beamed at (reader) with a big smile, wonder in his eyes as he rushed over to them.

"uhhh.." they took a small step backwards, chewing the inside of their cheek as they, ever so elegantly- bent down to pick up the fallen dollar bils.

"mikey- what you saw was uhh.."

"AMAZING !! anddd, a little confusing.." giggled out the mutant, who cocked his head at them like a curious puppy.

"I- I mean, you just had a bunch of cash glow out of your hand !" his feet tapped rapidly the ground as he spoke.

"could you do it again ?! I wanna see you do it again - !!"

"I - do what ??" quitely laughed out (reader) as they stood back up- fidgeting with the stack of cash in their hands before putting them in their bag. they, foolishly, decided to play dumb- though they knew that mikey saw them put their powers to use.

as they put on their dumb facade, mikey felt his smile curl down into a frown- almost like a pout as he puffed his chest out.

"what- what do you mean by- you know 'what' !!" mikey argued with them, playfully- yet firmly.

"I realy don't, haha..-"

"readerrr.," mikey intrerrupted, arms crossing as he rolled his eyes in a joking manner.

"why are you lyin' to me ? you know I hate lies !"

"mikey-"

"besides, I think it would be cool to see you do -uh, whatever you just did !! I won't judge, so why try to hide it ?!" mikey exclaimed with encouragement , tail flicking in both excitement and perhaps, impatience as he waited for you to do your tricks.

"uhh.."

"c'mon, do it, it'll be cool !"

(reader) sighed at the box turtle's persistince's, almost in defeat. rolling their eyes back at him- also in a joking manner.

"aah, why can't I ever say not to you, huh ?"

"hah, must be my adorable charms getting to you everytime !"

"either that, or you are very persistent.."

"persuisive would be the word."

"yea, you also got that effect." laughed out (reader) who waved a dismissive hand in the air playfully as mikey stuck his tongue out at them, smiling.

"alright, alright mister- c'mere, I''ll show you." they gestured him along, to which the box turtle let out a giddy laugh as he practically bounced closer to (reader). his excitement was uncontainable, and only grew with each moment as he anticipated for reader to put that sick trick of theirs to use.

and once they begun doing so, mikey almost squealed-as if his excitment was breaking it's limits. he took a note of how their hand glowed, marvelling over the soft light that grew brighter by the minute, marvelling over it's beatiful mix of colours. then, the light formed mass- looking more and more like an object, it's glow fading as the mass it slowly revealed it's shape. or rather multiple shapes. and once the light fully dimmed from they were all nail polish containers, all of which were various colours. mikey looked at them with joy on his face hands clapping stiffly, as if he couldn't be more amazed at (reader's) marvellous abilities.

"hah, did you catch that ??" now it was (reader's) turn to beam at the box turtle, whose eyes were filled with stars as he continued to grin at them with marvel and disbelief.

"(reader) that- that was so rad !! so so cool -!! oh, oh, what other things can you create- wait -"

"whoa, whoa- ease up with the questions there, big man !" they laughed out quitely, awkardly as they shook their head at the turtle slightly.

"you are a little too fired up at the moment, and I don't want for anyone else in the lair to know about..my creation powers-"

"THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED ?!"

"shhh- not here, mkay ?!" they hushed him up almost frantically, their voice somehow remaining soft.

"let's-let's just take a moment to unwind, and then I'll answer all the questions you got.." they suggested, sighing out in relief as mikey nodded at them, smiling still.

...

"and how about we do that.. through a nail-polish session, huh ?"

"hahh, ohmigosh yess !!"

★ — notes !!: can you tell I got lazy with mikey's part ?? I just wanted to get this done as I uhhh.. have delayed this for like. three weeks. im so sorry for that-- I didn't expect for me to post this at such a late notice-- I just had to study for finals,, and had to work on some other request for someone on quotev so..uhh.. yeah. it was kinda overwhelming for me to balance them all together haha (—_ —;)

anyway uhh,, I really hope that you like this one anon !! im sorry if I put too much emphasis on the 'creation power' part, I just found it quite interesting to write about !! uuhhh...what else. oh werh, have. have a great day-- or night !! or midnight. I dunno werhh. bye, supernovaes

#gif warning #rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #x reader #canon x reader #rottmnt x reader #riseofthetmnt x reader #rise raph x reader #rise donnie x reader #rise leo x reader #rise mikey x reader #headcanons #oneshots #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt oneshots

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ohyouluckysaint · 2 months ago

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♡⃞ 𓄧 Y2KJUNKIE!READER ༝༚༝༚ featuring Sam Winchester

( reader is aa╱soulaan coded )

au created by saint ‹𝟹

Y2KJUNKIE!READER’S DETAILS ໃ ̫𓈒. ̥ has naturally tight coily curls ⟢ her lips are always glossy and, more often not, glittery too ⟢ described as tan ⟢ gold jewelry is a yes ⟢ most outfits consist of pink, fur, animal print, and/or denim ⟢ always has a french tip medi pedi ⟢ collects magazines, cds, and dvds (she has an entire collection back home!) ⟢ body glaze ⟢ has been called Barbie ⟢ anklet charms ⟢ stretch marks ⟢ she doesn’t know about him being a hunter or any supernatural creatures actually existing aside from ghosts (and Sam plans to keep it that way).

HOW WOULD SHE BE DESCRIBED? ໃ ̫𓈒. ̥ glitzy, fabulous, spoiled princess (courtesy of Dean—he means it negatively, she doesn’t care and doesn’t bother taking it that way), very pink, vixen.

cw ⌖ none! blurb, fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, s1-s5 sam in mind when creating this, sam’s obsessed, mild language.

𑁥𑄺　˖ﾟ　wanna enjoy my other sam related content? you can also request for more!

Sam Winchester ventured to a costal town alongside his brother. He headed down to the beach first thing, and she was at the bar, leaning against it, sipping away on a strawberry swirl piña colada while humming along and tapping her right foot in her mesh slippers to a song playing lowly from the bar’s portable speaker. Her hips swayed lightly in her low rise capris and she adjusted her tote bag to rest on her shoulder that was slung low on her arm a moment before.

She was alone, so Sam hesitated before he thought Dean was going over to her and practically shoved him out of the way before journeying over to her. Dean just made a face and was readying himself to curse at the younger Winchester until both of his eyebrows rose once Sam approaching her was in his line of sight and then realization flickered in his green eyes. He smirked softly before going to the opposite side of the bar to order a drink like he wanted to in the first place. Who is he to cock block when he thinks Sam doesn’t get any action to begin with? He doesn’t think Sam has a shot with you, but he’ll be a good big brother and swallow that insult on down.

Sam politely cleared his throat as his towering stature came to step beside her, and he adjusted his pale yellow polo tee right before her eyes fixed on him. His heart only thudded harder against his ribcage like it wanted to comically leap out and land in the palm of her pretty hand. “Hi, I’m Sam,” he spoke up as his gaze flickered between hers, just as she gave him a once over. She greeted him promptly and told him her name with a soft smile, and lightly shook his hand when he offered it. Her voice sent a shiver down the bow of his spine with it’s a velvet caress wrapped around every single word especially when she breathed his name. He was at the mercy of her already.

He'd never been this affected by a woman before. Not since Jessica anyway. It was unsettling in a good way for him. She wasn’t using any magic, had no ulterior motives. Just gorgeous. Maybe it’s also how her skin shimmers and how she smells a little too good. He can’t stop himself from trying to figure out what it is, and he comes to realize it’s her hair that smells like coconut and her skin smelled of a raw pineapple that isn’t too sweet to where it’s sickening. She noticed because Sam isn’t entirely discreet, she just hopes he doesn’t ask or try to touch her or her hair. Especially her hair.

When she’d figured out that he was only in town for what he called “a work trip,” she was hesitant on continuing to continue speaking to him. She thought he was cute, but didn’t want a summer fling. She wanted the start of something real, something stable. But the way his pupils dilated and the way he stared at her and softly nodded when she spoke about herself, because he wanted to know more, had her mindlessly drawn toward him more. So, she straight up told him it wasn’t going to work if he just wanted to sleep with her.

Sam looked almost offended when she said that and quickly reassured her that wasn’t the case. That they could even be friends first, so they don’t trip over themselves with infatuation. They’d begun dating once the time was right for them both, and he doesn’t miss out on calling or texting her even when he’s about to go on a hunt with Dean. When he doesn’t respond to her in two days tops, she worries. Not that he’s cheating, but that something went wrong. Always. He never gave her a reason to doubt she’s the one for him.

When Sam is in town and he takes her on a date in her car (because Dean doesn’t wanna give up Baby “in case they have a little too much fun”), he insists she strictly picks the music even if she says it’s okay if he picks something. She gets all giddy and doesn’t hesitate to play her playlist. She sings and raps almost every word as she dances in the passenger seat, passing her imaginary rhinestone microphone to Sam, only for him to not know a single word or song. He taps his fingers against her steering wheel when he thinks one of them is catchy though. When they’re just back at her place, she has her back rested against his chest while sitting between his thighs with his arm slung around her chest while they watch Bring It On: All or Nothing on her pink CRT TV. Her pick of course.

The first time she wanted help with getting her braids taken down, Sam didn’t protest, especially when she complained about her arms hurting. He found it easy to do after he’d looked at some videos online on his own time, especially when handed the rat tail comb, and he even helped her wash, detangle, and twist her hair afterward. “Part it into four sections…” “Want me to add a little more oil to your scalp?” “Wait, I gotta redo this one.” “You have to tell me if it hurts, okay?” A lot of that from him during the process. She found it comforting and really cute.

When she gets new outfits, she puts on a little fashion show for Sam like she would for her family when she was younger. Yet she puts on a show reserved just for her boyfriend, and SPOILER ALERT! those outfits are gradually more provocative. Long silk robes with fur, some sheer, while some aren’t. Lacy lingerie—bras, corsets, thongs, you name it. All while Sam claps for her and cues the music for her to step out of her closet with him rating every piece a ten.

She’s asking for him to help her choose a new hairstyle? He’ll help her and ask how much money she needs and if he can sit in on the appointment. When she says he can’t due to the beautician’s policy, he’s understanding…but also sulking. However, when he picks her up hours later, he’s crowding her space like a big puppy, and she can’t help but giggle when he manages to lift her with his hands secure against her curves to make sure she doesn’t fall, just to kiss all over her face. He’s so careful when touching her hair for a moment after she gives him the go ahead to do so. An onslaught of compliments almost instantaneously filter through his lips.

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ritzcuit · 8 months ago

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ppl who follow me are tired of me saying this, but if i could address the aa fandom directly... i rly would just ask that people like, stop being mean about dd and soj. like thats all i want.

im not even IN the fandom anymore, so i have no reach. i draw fanart and make my little ship posts but thats all. and thats bc the wider fandom ... is so fucking mean sometimes. omg. like its just not fun!!

but really, specifically, its about the dd and soj thing. the "play ace attorney we have so many games and [MOST OF THEM] are good!" thing. like, its fine if you dont LIKE dd and soj, obviously!! im not saying you HAVE to!

but "i dont like these games" and "these games are objectively bad and no one likes them" are entirely different statements.

plenty of people like dd and soj, even have them as their favorite games. i know this bc my soj fanart gets notes 😭 i have ppl in my tags excited and happy when i draw dhurke and datz. bc we like these characters!! and like to think about them and the story they come from!

...just bc YOU dont like soj, doesnt mean a lot of ppl dont like soj! so i really dont understand the drive to constantly talk down and insult these games?! like ... why be negative. u could be nicer. its possible and easy and then doesnt drive ppl away from the fandom bc their favorite games are being trashtalked all the time.

a lot of ppl find the space family dd interesting! they LIKE the phantom and his concept as a character! they LIKE soj and all of the political settings! it doesnt rly matter that they are, by and large, A Little Flop, bc people still LIKE them and like making content for them and thinking abt them and playing in the space and...!! like. why hate that? why constantly put us down for enjoying smth you didnt?

just dont need to constantly make slights at how "bad" and supposedly unenjoyable dd and soj are. cus not only is it mean, and makes the fandom hostile, but its literally untrue. i dont even consider myself in the fandom anymore bc all the fun is taken out of it when i have to brace myself for shitty comments like this whenever i read a post abt the series!

and i rly wish i could just Not Care what other ppl say. a lot of my friends dont care. but soj is like.....ive spent the past 5 years loving that stupid ass mediocre game. like its deeply important to me. and i just feel like a lot of ppl would have some fun with it if they werent constantly told how bad and skippable it is. im sure dd fans feel the same way.

its very cliquey. its very "the popular opinion is correct and if you dont agree, you dont get to play with us". it just sucksssss

#ace attorney #spirit of justice #dual destinies #like again im sure this will flop too #but if i can at least convince One Person to be a little nicer abt these games #OR JUST. NEUTRAL? LIKE JUST DONT BE MEAN THTS ALL I ASK #then ill be happy #its all crazy cus to me ace attorney is a very unserious mediocre series #the first game is tight but even then most ppl hate 1-3 or 1-5 and think theyre boring #so idk why dd and soj are the black sheep when their crimes are NOT unique to their games lol #just uplift the entire series! its easy!#Idk or maybe im the crazy one.#i wouldnt rly know how the wider fandom is cus again im not IN it cus you guys are mean af sometimes!!!!#i sit in my little bubble of ppl who appreciate datz are'bal Amen!

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agendabymooner · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO MASTERLIST: O-Z F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)

note: I CANNOT OFFICIALLY FIT MY WORKS IN ONE POST 😭 so here is my alphabetical f1 masterlist!!!

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece

ALSO CHECK OUT:

MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY

MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY

alex albon (aa23)

front page lover (thai!kpop idol!ofc)

keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.

fashion week, smau: the williams driver and polly always got something for everyone to talk about.

double aa, socmed snapshot: a series of instagram stories in which alex is a dad to alice albon

own it, smau: alex's hidden talent is being a good boyfriend with a dash of photographer. ★

fernando alonso (fa14)

the breakup and makeup series (pro wrestler!ofc)

time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc) ♡

heaven, smau: back in 2000s, fernando alonso and beatrice anastasia 'trish' staedtlander were every racing and wrestling fans' couple. years after, trish alonso became a mother and a wife... and the grid's crush of the season. fernando was certainly not happy so what's a better way to remind everyone that he was hers? (f, g, h)

from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)

look what god gave her, smau: beatrice 'trish' alonso survived fernando's messy image better than anybody did. (f, g, h)

bonnie and the fame

maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)

ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.

oliver bearman (ob8)

ice ice baby, smau: kimi raikkonen's daughter romania raikkonen debuted in formula one with her friends AND it's safe to say that the iceman doesn't like ollie that much.

icy in saudi, smau: aroma raikkonen was ollie's biggest supporter in his f1 debut. plus, she also had her personal 'reverse harem' consisting of her best friends in the f2 grid. ★

ollie on thin ice(man), scenario: kimi raikkonen had proven himself to be oliver bearman's biggest hater at some point. ★

jenson button (jb22)

pride and pettiness (x british!actress!ofc)

one, 2004: in which, ada and jenson met for the first time.

the mr. darcy type, smau: much like the popular love interest, jenson should have known better than to say things that wouldn't impress a woman he grew interested in. OR ada abbott made sure that he worked hard for her time and attention. (f) ♡

shunt the hell up! (x hunt!driver!ofc)

shunt your lovers, kiss your enemies. smau: it was funny how enemies can be your teammate AND your lover at the same time. OR jj hunt, the daughter of the late james hunt, was jenson's biggest rival until a certain baby predicament cost her her entire racing career. (g) ♡

better enemies than strangers, smau: the brawn gp docuseries discussed jj hunt and the surprising turn of events in her rivalry/partnership with jenson in 2009. ★

other works

affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.

pierre gasly (pg10)

newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)

odds, fic: their timing was always wrong, maybe that's why pierre should consider making it even for the two of them as she writes songs about him and their courtship.

lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)

indigo, chatfic + smau: there's really no reason for pierre gasly to be jealous over some man that ensley wrote 'high school in jakarta' about. not when she wrote one or more songs about the frenchman. (f) ♡

high school in jakarta, fic: meeting ensley’s close friends would also mean that he’d have to meet her high school sweetheart, who he believed he couldn’t compete against until ensley ensured that his two-day attendance wouldn’t be spoiled by some guy who couldn’t let go of some memories she couldn’t even remember. ♡

dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)

vintage, smau: pierre gasly is a husband and a fanboy of ensley soleil gasly amongst other things. (f)

hot dad era, socmed snapshot: pierre gasly. 30% f1 driver 70% dilf.

other works

do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.

lewis hamilton (lh44)

stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)

thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)

hands on and paws on, socmed snapshot: lewis is a stay-at-home dad to lottie hamilton and his best boy, roscoe, happens to watch his mummys everywhere she goes as she carries baby hamilton #2.

the hamilton daycare, fic: lewis is already a stay-at-home dad so what makes his day out in monaco with his two kids any different? (f) (2/3 of daddy, debriefed!)

where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)

lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.

crowned couple (x miss universe!ofc)

the couple of the universe, smau: lewis is a careless being this season and everyone's wondering why.

melody series (x performer!ofc)

summary: with her sharp eyes focused on her audience, a burlesque performer who went under the name of melody returned to rythme romantique, an entertainment lounge which exclusively caters to the wealthiest people of monaco — or in this case, to the people with a status that are recognized by all. her three exclusive performances were meant to be a closure for her connections in the principality. still, a certain formula one driver saw it as an opportunity to reconnect with his former flame after two years of her absence. felicity vos learned that this was a rich man’s world and that he could do whatever he wanted, but she also realized that the agreement they settled on years ago was corrupted the moment he expressed his love for her.

one, million dollar man: monaco was a world of glitz and glamour that she left two years ago. returning to the principality clearly was a huge mistake as she found herself talking to the man who swore to nothing but his love for her.

two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?

arthur leclerc (al12)

the scheming schumachers, smau: sunny schumacher is mick's cousin and what does a family do? they attract arthur leclerc to get him away from his best friend, who happens to be mick's girlfriend. thankfully, the schumacher cousin is something of a welcome distraction for the monegasque.

charles leclerc (cl16)

the leclerc boys series (x hearth sister!ofc)

debunking drama, smau: prequel to of long lines and names; aimee hearth, the mclaren media manager and one of the famous hearth sisters, was rumoured to be dating lando norris. a certain monegasque's baffled reaction became a trending topic in twitter as he counteracts the rumour with an instagram post of his lover. (f, h)

many kids with many names, smau: everyone found out that aimee and charles were having not only one but two babies. turned out, those two babies have at least a million name. (h) ★

of long lines and names, fic: five kids with (almost) five names under six years. OR the three pregnancies that charles had witnessed told him how motherhood and memories could come in two sets of twins and a boy that looked so much like him. (f)

the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own- not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men. (f) (1/3 of daddy, debriefed!) ♡

about names, scenario fics

summary: extension to of long lines and names and the leclerc daycare; charles and aimee's boys and their names go hand in hand OR times when the couple had to tell their kids that their names were signs of love and respect for their namesakes.

one, an amazing boy with an amazing name: hervé's anger left his parents confused after he refused to be called by his first name. thankfully, his mamé pascale had an easy access to his heart that eventually led to an answer to his sadness.

two, the wingman of maranello: jules leclerc learned two things as he travelled to italy with his father: he had an uncle named uncle teague and uncle teague had a best friend that was once charles' godfather.

other pieces

"slut", smau: charles' ex trashed his new girlfriend a while ago, but too bad he wasn't really into the thought of making music with anyone but lou villar.

breaking curses not hearts, smau: frankie bardot atkinson was also known for her curse in the film industry. after breaking her long streaked curse and finally won an oscar, was it finally charles' time to break his curse at monza gp?

kevin magnussen (km20)

family ties, smau: lando norris forgot that his brother-in-law is in the grid with him and lola norris magnussen couldn't help but make of her brother for it.

lando norris (ln4)

lover era (x alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)

i think he knows, smau: grazia nichols published her debut novel based off formula one, and a fan could have sworn that the the book bf - nolan langford - was based off of lando's character as a driver altogether. (f, g, h)

✿ honey, honey! series masterlist - lando norris x ofc (honey-sue lewis) ft. sidemen

other pieces

too good to be true, smau: just a brief overview of lando’s relationship with a countryside girl who, beyond her introverted tendencies, was an unhinged, unserious yet amazing mother and girlfriend. ★

f1 drivers (general)

✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids

✿ f1 voicemail blurbs - series of blurbs with voicemails left by the drivers. ★

too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were...

#formula one masterlist #f1 masterlist #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 masterlist #formula one series

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