#French noises i guess

[thekittyfox2999]

It's not my birthday in a while- but if you want to gift me something. Then gift me eirher art of johnlock or fanfiction with hands

pyeah

Why can't i got to sleep

Edit: it's 7 am when I post this. I thought it was dumb when I made it, so it was drafted. Now this reads like a scarelt fever patient begging ACD to write one last sherlock holmes story before said patient passes

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[birdiewriteslit]

“so american”

nico hischier x f!reader

masterlist

inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo

warnings: fluff, kissing

can you tell i love nico in a hat

You were sitting in the passenger side of Nico’s car with your feet up on the dash. The window was down, and your arm was hanging out of it, the cool wind blowing your hair around your face.

It was spring, and the weather was just starting to feel like it. It had been cold for the past few weeks, and both you and Nico were happy to finally be able to enjoy semi-warm temperatures.

You loved driving around Jersey with Nico. You loved sneaking glances at him while he was too focused on the road to notice. You loved how warm his hand felt on your thigh. You loved how his t-shirt fit you and how it smelled like him. You also loved that he let you have aux privileges.

Nico frowned at you as one of your country songs came on the playlist. If his brown puppy dog eyes weren’t covered by his dark sunglasses, they would probably be enough to convince you to change the song.

You giggled at his displeasure, consoling him by lacing your fingers through his that rested on your thigh. He seemed to accept this, a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

He gave you one last once over before focusing on the road again. His smile grew wider. “You look so American.”

You let out a surprised noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re listening to country music, for one. I only ever see people’s feet on the dashboard in movies, very American.”

“You don’t do this in Switzerland? You don’t relax with your hand out the window like this?” you teased, making wave motions with your arm in the wind.

He laughed, squeezing your hand as he did so. “We relax. It’s just different here. I like your Americanness. I guess the exception is that you’re wearing a Swiss’s shirt, which you look very pretty in, by the way,” he said slyly, raising your hand to his lips to kiss it.

You felt your face heat up as you watched the smile that spread across his face as he pulled away. “God, Nico, don’t make me blush.”

But that’s really all he did, it was what he was best at. You knew he loved how flustered he could make you if he wanted to. He loved how after five months of dating, he could still easily make you nervous.

The next day, at brunch with your friends, you expressed your utter happiness, but at a table full of mostly single women, it wasn’t received the way you intended.

“I’m serious when I say that I have never seen a more attractive man in my life. Like, seriously, compare him to any celebrity crush you’ve ever had, and multiply that attractiveness by a thousand,” you babbled mindlessly to your friends, who were giving each other looks. “And, ugh, don’t get me started on his accent. It’s so hot, especially when he talks me through it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” your friend said, holding up her hand, a disgusted look on her face. “Frankly, it’s rude to talk about this during brunch. I mean, right in front of my french toast?” She gestured to her plate.

Another friend snorted. “I hate to say it, Y/n, but I agree. You literally only talk about him anymore. It’s like you’re gonna marry him.”

“I might,” you blurted.

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You gave a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of eyes one you. “I know it’s early but—“

“But you love him,” one of your married friends sighed. “It certainly sounds like you do,” she added after getting some looks from the other women at the table.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to remain silent as the conversation steadily flowed away from you. You but the inside of your cheek, thinking about how you definitely loved Nico. You knew this before today, but with your history of failed relationships, you figured taking it slow with him was a good idea.

You weren’t lying about marrying him. If he kept this shit up, you were going to.

That night, you were lying in bed, eyes on the bathroom door, where Nico was on the other side. In your shorts and tank top, you were a little cold, and the top blanket wasn’t doing much for you.

When Nico slept over, you rarely made it under the covers. He naturally ran hot, and if you were covered by more than one blanket, you would literally overheat.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing a Devils t-shirt that was well worn and mostly likely from several seasons ago. He wasn’t wearing pants, his boxers out for you to ogle at, although you knew you shouldn’t.

Nico walked over to his side of the bed, stopping before he climbed under the blanket to pick up a book on your nightstand. You’d both read it and come to the conclusion that it was a waste of your good money.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked, showing you the cover. “I can’t believe your friend recommended it.”

“I like reading your notes. I think it’s cute how angry you get,” you admitted.

He set the book down and got into the bed, covering you with his body, instantly warming you up.

Wrapping his arms securely around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. He sighed into your skin, his warm breath fanning out and his stubble tickling you.

He placed small kisses up your neck, trailing along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Between kisses, he said, “Missed you today.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Yeah?” you said, smiling against his lips. “I missed you.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, and stroking your face with his thumb. His lips parted, and his eyes were so big and brown that you genuinely felt like you could lose yourself in them.

“I wish you could come with us when we leave.” Nico was referring to an upcoming roadie. He would be gone for a week.

He was looking at you so sincerely, so vulnerably. “I’ll go anywhere you go,” you whispered.

You knew you couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t realistic. But with the way he was looking at you, you really couldn’t hold back from saying something so sappy.

He glanced down at your lips quickly before meeting your eyes again, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. “You would?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I love you, Nico.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“Sorry if it’s too soon. I know I’m in love with you,” you spoke quickly. “I don’t wanna just assume that you feel the same about all of it.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your cheeks and looked at you meaningfully. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months. Trust me, I feel the same. I love you.”

Your face warmed as he looked deeply into your eyes. You surged forward to kiss him again. You peppered his whole face with kisses, and he laughed as he gripped your waist and flipped the two of you over so that you were on top of him.

He grinned at you when you pulled away, his cheeks rosy and his hair slightly messed. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” he said.

Your expression matched his perfectly. “I don’t think so either.”

Even though you didn’t confess that earlier that day, you’d thought about marrying him, this was still just as good.

[skylordhorus]

i have neat tunes in my head sometimes but i cant write them down because i cant read music and i cant plonk them out on my keyboard either really because idk what key makes what note still so i would just end up spending most of my time trying to find the right one then forgetting the feckin tune in the process

[iloveprocessedcheese]

i love kristoph so much but youd never guess because my headcanons about him are all like . he's a conservative. he's a respectability politics-loving hypocrite (it's okay for him to be gay and gnc but not anybody else). he hates klavier's music and is constantly making jibes at him about how it's just noise. he's extremely snobby about classical music. he snaps his fingers to get service workers' attention. he has two main emotions: passive-aggression and active-aggression. he's all the negative things that people seem to think edgeworth is. he's faking being french+italian in the same way that klavier fakes being german, just slightly more subtle about it (which isnt hard). he doesnt wear socks with his loafers. he's a truly intolerable man. just rotten to the core. i love him.

[jellazticious]

bing bong bootleg SS au

very long ramble under the C

stuff are subjected to change

The working title isn't solidified but I'm leaning on either Candy Castle or Pastry Castle

Tho I think I'm gonna go for pastry cuz it has the same amount of letters as castle much like pizza and tower have the same number too

The tower is a gingerbread castle. According to a friend of mine (It's Beefy, it's always Beefy go follow him) that Hispanics love their bakeries and yeah, I guess that makes sense. Not only do I have a theme based on the protag's culture but also the theme gets narrowed down to just baked sweets. Candy in general is too broad, I would die figuring out how to put every kind of sweet in it, and if I did it's gonna be really cluttered hooboy

Noise is called Theo because that's Peppino's name formula. Peppino is a nickname for Giuseppe so I thought I'd give Noise's swap a nickname to Theodore as the main name

Hazel Nutt is pretty self explanatory cuz Noisette means hazelnut in French

Their outfits are pretty simple to mirror Peppino and Gustavo's with just coloured shirts and aprons

Hazel doesn't get a mount because she would have Theo's prototype rocket skates. Just like Gus, she would have different stages of getting used to the skates per floor. First she gets blasted from end to end cuz she can't control the thrust. Second, she manages to turn it off but she's trying to keep balance on it. Third, she catches her breath now that she could stand still without moving or slipping. Next she would make a card castle, in reference to the very castle they're inside. and lastly she'd be holding a box of sweets without giving a shit about the scary floor.

To parallel the og Noisette, Hazel would smile bigger when Theo faces her direction.

Hazel is also Theo's delivery gal to match and switch with how Peppino WAS Gustavo's delivery guy

The "kick the rat" function would be Hazel swinging one of the skates and the cops grabbing Brick would instead hold a weapon detector that also functions as a magnet

Unlike Peppino, Theo is more aggressive than anxious. Imagine an injured cat defending itself from what it thinks is a threat

the name of Pizzaface's swap is Pieface for obvious reasons 😭

but HEAR ME OUT

both pizzaface and pieface are used as insults. pizza face is used for people with so much acne and pie face is used for someone with a flat face or dull expression. It isn't just a pun on what food the characters are made of. Pieface is also a reference to the trope where people headshot other people with pies. With the mech floating towards the protag, it would look like a pie is being thrown and targeted at Theo

Honestly drawing what food makes his face is so fun. Did you know that before the croissant smile it was supposed to be syrup shaped to a smile? The nose was a long whip of cream before turning into a cut strawberry for the mustache effect

Pizzahead's candy version would be called Gingerhead because of how ridiculous it sounds.

Gingerhead is based on Willy Wonka much like how Pizzahead is based on Ronald McDonald which is why he has more of a showman look than a clown look

okay side note, it just occured to me how ironic PH being based on Ronald is considering McDo's isn't a pizza place

actually Wonka doesn't even sell cakes and shit so, I guess it's fair game

Theo has the nickname Muffinman to reference the rhyme. but this time, it's the gingerbreadman chasing the baker

Next up is Mr S, who would be Peppino but he becomes rich. Mr S is the stage name he uses. He is a known celebrity much as Noise is but he is more of a boxer than a host. Like Dwayne Johnson or something. His name is partially a reference to ResEvil's Mr X, another absolute unit of a guy

also the reason why he doesn't wear a shirt. He's committing to the bit. If he needs to cover himself when he isn't playing a role, then there's his robe. He doesn't take out his mask most of the time tho

Mr S's mask is based on the Chef Raider design but also part of the scrapped superhero design much like Pizzano. Actually speaking of Pizzano, S is characterized so similarly to him cuz Pizzano is the only SS character who was actually written well to my standards. To be fair we've seen too much of Peppino to flunk characterizing him sksksk

Since this is Peppino that Mr S is based on, he's not as tech savvy or as self centered as Noise so he doesn't have robots that look like himself. Instead he has ants for a crew

the ants swap the place of rats. the rats in PT reference the new york pizza rat while ants just generally eat your food especially if it's sweet when left alone for five minutes

the ants come from Mr G, who would be Gustavo's swap with Noisette. He's Mr S's lawyer. at the end of S's bossfight, G would snatch him away with Click (the ant) because S would make a foul and embarrassing move on live camera

I can't seperate Gustavo and Brick so Click stays with Mr G instead of assisting Hazel

inside what would be Noisette cafe, instead of Mr G and Click being behind the counter, they would be sitting as customers next to Caraman. the barista isn't seen anywhere

Honestly when I'm writing everyone, my logic of swapping them isn't "make them switch places AND personalities" but more of "write every single one of them with the og personality because giving them a different lifestyle/role would drastically change their motives and how they behave"

I'm practically just swapping each character's place of birth

I mentioned this because it's kinda funny with Noisette and Gus since they play the exact same role of assisting Peppino/Noise so swapping them won't change much in how they act. They also have the same cheery and welcoming personality by default so Hazel and Mr G would act REALLY similar to their og

The only difference is that Gustavo can be threatening whenever Peppino fucks up. It fits right in with being a lawyer for the same goon

Now we got Mel Caraman who would become this au's Vigi. Lemme just say off the bat that Caraman is just as delusional as Vigi. He gets hired as a guard for floor 2 and took it way too seriously that he thinks he's some sort of sentinel. Hired as a guard but thinks he's an ancient guardian or something

his name vaguely references James Bond because you also VAGUELY get "caramel" out of "Caraman, Mel Caraman"

Caraman is a caramel apple but he's half glazed to form an eyemask. he's also got a stick poking out his head that stretches his chorro hat. the big hat makes him look cooler anyways. Bro I was so ready to settle for a shitty wild west mayor hat and I owe Beefy one for suggesting a new hat. I was gonna make him look like Doug Dimmadome with the short brimmed tall hat😭😭😭

but yeah Caraman doesn't have the same dignity as Vigi does. He can fight crime decently on normal circumstances and badass when he's full serious. But like day in day out he's so obnoxious about looking for crime that people get tired of him nor would they take him seriously

he would also be mistaken for a pepper

Next to last, Cam M. Bert or just Bert who would take place of Pepperman. he's an artist who appreciates the world instead of himself, a freelancer also. There was only a bossfight because he was coincidentally commissioned to make a mural for the castle the same time Theo busts in. He didn't like how Theo ruined some of his works with his rush to open the door

Bert is a cream cheese instead of a cheese slime. his beret is actually a little cherry to distinguish him from the other creams.

Bert is really chill and humble, He's like Bob Ross, whenever he can, he'd try to talk about how every beauty in the world should be immortalized through a canvas

In parallel to Vigi's delusion of thinking he's a human, Bert thinks he's actually a living painting (which is completely possible for someone to be in the PT world since Pepperman was able to do it with his own art)

instead of a :{ face that Vigilante has, Bert has a :3 face

the naming formula is taken directly from Vigi

Vig E. Lantte

Cam M. Bert

There is a type of sweet cheese that's really creamy called camembert which his name is a direct reference from. Here is a picture of a camembert since it's hella cute

Camembert cheese was also suggested by Beefy, brother thank you for not allowing me to name this cunt Creamlad

Mr Lardo would be in place of Mr Stick but his motive is that he's collecting Theo's money on BEHALF of Mr Stick. They're probably the only ones who completely stay intact because there's not much canon info of Stick WITHIN the game itself I also feel he's a crossover character from his own "series" with how long McPig has him prior to PT so I just swap the character who makes the "cameo"

The toppins are still called toppins because they'd be used to decorate a cake or pie. They would be

Strawberry - Mushroom

Cream - Cheese

Cookie - Tomato

Icing (in a piping bag) - Sausage

actually I dont know yet for the pineapple but I'll get to it. I've only been figuring out this au since four days ago....

Lastly (of the characters), the Faker in this would be mechanical to match the original Noise's familiarity in robots

Fake Theo (temp name) would be engineered to be "Theo but way better" while actually being succesful with it. Faker would also sort of look like a mini figure of a ballerina. Referencing The Nutcracker

Opposite to Fake Peppino, Fake Theo is more graceful than terrifying but it's so uncanny how unnaturally pretty it is

and now some misc stuff

Title of the final level is When The Cookie Crumbles

the pepper pizza will be replaced with an extremely sweet pie and the immunity is caused by the sugar rush from it

Pizza Time is called Crunch Time

Pillar John would be a giant graham cracker since the walls are made of cookies instead of bricks. Gerome however, is a solidified bar of brownies. like a shittily made brownie that it just turned into a construction brick

Snotty is a pure white cream cheese and that's cuz he's actually made of glue. His name is Sticky

Pigs would either be bears or rabbits with how many times those two animals represented sweets

I'm gonna be clear with everyone here. I literally made this au cuz I'm going insane trying to make swap stuff with Pascal/Stefano when the au itself is so empty. sure it's colourful but it's so empty like I can't draw SS characters outside of poses

I tried like doing fanon modifications as I always do then there's so much I "modified" that at this point it's not Sugary Spire anymore. Just straight up a completely different au. The only similarity is that it's a swap au with sweets

it is what it is yknow. this is my life now. I said fuck it and went with the flow and boom, new personal au that I poured too much into

basically I blame Pascal for this

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 51

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Trapped in another holding pattern. That's all that life seems to be. Phases. Dull and prolonged. Waiting but for what?

Your days aren't much different than before Lloyd's return. He may as well have stayed gone. For you, he's not there. He's nothing. He doesn't deserve to be anything to you.

Your routine once more stagnates; sleep and feedings and some crying. Between it all, you see Harlan or Dottie, sometimes both. Your mother-in-law has grown quiet, even evasive, since her son came back. You know why but you won't argue with her or her precious Marion.

You get your walks in, looking forward to the escape from the suffocating walls. Andy passes you often, waving or saying hi. He doesn't try to talk again, not with your father around. They barely acknowledge each other. You ignore his texts. You're still trying to figure it all out.

When you're at home, Harlan holds Luna as you catch up on your reality TV. You whisper back and forth about your most hated personalities. It can never be what it once was, or what you wished it could be, but it's manageable.

That day, Harlan and Dottie go into town to do some shopping. You haven't seen Lloyd but you don't mourn his absence. Not like before.

You have Luna downstairs in her rolling bassinet. She's fully fed and sleepy. You might do some cooking. You're finally feeling up to it.

You shiver and watch your daughter dozing peacefully. Why is it so cold in here? You hug yourself and notice the draft freezing in from the kitchen. You find one of the french doors slightly open and push it shut. You can guess who did it. You should lock him out but you'd rather not provoke a confrontation.

You go back to the front room. Something feels off. You don't know. Maybe it's just the empty house. You check the thermostat then the bassinet. Luna is tucked against the side. She must feel it too.

You make sure the wheels are locked before you flit out to grab a quilt from the nursery. You pant as you get to the top of the stairs. Whew, you still got work to do before you're anywhere close to back to normal.

You snatch the sewn pink blanket and come back down, catching your breath as you sweep through the doorway.

“Lulu,” you say quietly, “gonna swaddle you up–”

You notice the angle of the bassinet. It's not how you left it, almost parallel to the sofa instead. You rush over and nearly scream as the bottom stares back at you empty.

You drop the quilt and spin, searching for any sign of the culprit. You storm back into the foyer and stomp a foot.

“Lloyd!” You bellow, not caring if you wake the babe, “where the fuck are you? Give me my baby!”

Nothing. Just the echo of your anger. You snarl and holler again. Louder.

“LLOYD! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND!”

You stride forward and go down the hall. Not in the kitchen. Nope, not in the dining room either. You go through the first floor, yelling, then ascend the stairs again. There's no way he could've snuck her up there.

“You motherfucker. Lloyd!” You stop at the top, “it's not fucking funny.”

“Jesus Christ!” You hear a door swing open, then another as he comes out of his bedroom, “what is it now? Wanna call me more names? Push me around?”

He has a towel clutched around his waist as his feet slap on the floor. He glistens, his hair slick and dripping the noise of the shower still buzzing. You gulp and your heart drops.

“Lloyd, give her back.”

“What?”

“Don't. Give me Luna.”

“Luna–” he grimaces, “what the fuck? You serious? You won't let me see her and now– wait, where is she?”

You stand silent in horror. He's a loar to the bone but dammit, he's convincing.

“You took her. I know… I went to get her a blanket and you…”

“I've been in the shower for twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he sneers, “I… she's… gone?”

You croak. It's all you can do. You spin and hurtle back downstairs. You near the bassinet again and squeal. Gripping the sides as panic floods your chest.

“She's gone! Lloyd! My baby! Where is she?!”

You hear him come downstairs and his footsteps rush across the floor, searching everywhere you did. He appears from the kitchen, barely hanging onto his towel. You look at him as he stares at you palely.

“The back door was unlocked.”

“I know, I thought you were out there–”

“Peaches,” he utters as his eyes dilate, “call the police.”

🍑

You're still sobbing as the red and blue flash on the other side of the window. You told the story a dozen times over. It's 2am and you haven't seen Luna in thirteen hours. You feel her absence heavy in your chest.

Your baby. You failed her. She's gone and it's all your fault.

Why didn't you just take her upstairs? Why did you want to cook? Why weren't you watching her? Why didn't you lock the goddamn door?

“Honey,” Harlan clinks down a mug and his weight dips beside you on the couch, “they'll find her. She can't have gone far.”

“No, no, no,” you bawl, head throbbing, “someone took her. Someone– it's all my fault–”

“Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It'll be alright. She got everyone lookin’, they'll find her.”

“I fucked up!” You fold over your lap, “I was selfish--c-c-carlessssss.”

He hushes you again and rubs your back. You can hear the police milling around outside, a few inside still investigating every nook and cranny.

“Ma'am,” an officer approaches, “we're doing what we can but these things can take a while. You know, we got a few volunteers from the neighborhood too and some statements–”

“I don't care! I want my daughter back,” you snap.

“Sorry, officer, she's just…scared,” Harlan slings his arm over your shoulders.

“Understood,” the officer says, “we're doing all we can.”

You sniffle and bury your face in your palms. This can't be real. It is and it's all on you. You wished so many times that Luna would just go away, you didn't want her, you remember that, and now that wish came true. You are a monster.

“Breathe,” Harlan coos as your breath turns shallow and suffocating, “honey, please, you needa–”

“Let me look!” You sit up, so dizzy you nearly keel over, “I wanna look for her.”

“Dear, you already did. You needa rest.”

“No, no!” You shove him away and stand, slippers slapping as you stomp around the couch, “she's my baby, I can find her! I know I will.”

“You won't help. Lloyd's already out there–” Harlan calls after you as he follows.

You hurry through the entryway and burst out the front door. You hear your father swearing as he scrambles for his shoes. The snow crunches under your thin soles as you jog past the cruisers and the uniformed figures.

You turn down the street without a thought. The streetlights flash over you, yellow, then darkness, yellow, dark…. You don't know where you're going. Maybe you want to disappear too.

You hear Harlan calling your name but he's getting further away, not closer. You slow down and cough, lungs burning. You lean on a fence post and bend to collect yourself.

“What are you doing out here?” A drawl brings you straight up.

You squint. You think it's Lloyd at first, you haven't seen him since the police got there. Andy steps into the soft hue of the lightpole.

“I… what are you doing?” You throw the question back at Andy.

“I'm a volunteer firefighter. Heard there was a missing baby so I've been helping. I'm sorry to hear about Luna. I don't know who would do this.”

You shake your head and snivel, “I don't know.”

“I know what it's like to lose a child but… I think… she's out there. It'll be okay. You'll see her again, I know it.”

“I hope,” your voice cracks and wipes your eyes as your grief spills anew, “I should go back.”

He says nothing. You back away and turn, dragging your feet down the pavement. You see the sirens lit up and the distant beans of flashlights. Suddenly, you're caught around the neck, a hand smothering your mouth.

“Do you wanna see her?” Andy whispers as you kick out, “Luna needs her mommy…” he wrestles you out of the cone of light and behind the fence, “so do I.”

You thrash, clawing at his sleeve. Your slippers fly off in your struggle as he squeezes tighter. No, it can't be him.

You were wrong. Again.

[usetheeauthor]

Video Games (MDNI +18)

🎶I heard that you like the bad girls, honey? Is that true?🎶

Sub!Boyfriend!Arisu Ryohei x Dom!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend games all day instead of paying attention to you. You know exactly how to get him out of his own world.

A/N: Wrote another sub!Arisu fic because I’m horny and I want to slut this man out. He’s so underrated in the fandom and I don’t get why. Do you see that innocent face? This man is begging to be folding like a pretzel.

Word Count: 994 words

Warnings: smut, handjob, biting, hair pulling, choking, kissing/french kissing, saliva as lube, spit kink, cum eating, dacryphilia, daddy kink

You knew the disadvantages of having a gamer boyfriend but you figured that Arisu was more than worth it. Now you’re not so sure anymore.

Just how is it possible that this man could stay in front of a screen for hours on end, mindlessly shooting enemies? Not once has he looked up at you to make sure that you’re still there. You just might very well leave.

Except you were incredibly horny.

There was something about your boyfriend that just made you so insatiable. You’ve never had a sexual appetite this intense before but whenever you’re in his presence all you want to do is tie him to your bed and use him until you’re both spent.

Sometimes, you wondered if your boyfriend felt this way, too. You get that he enjoys sex but it’s almost as if he’d rather game than make love to you.

You huff out loud. He glances at you for a moment, unaware of your lust-filled thoughts. You guess you should test your theory.

Standing up from your seat on the couch, you alert him enough for him to do a double take. Nonetheless, he returns his attention back to the game, headphones over his ears as he shouts commands at his team.

You approach him from behind the couch, removing the headset and throwing them off to the side.

“Hanii, I’m a little busy, here.” Arisu groans, frustration pickled in his tone.

“I know,” You whisper seductively in his ear. “But I want you.”

A shiver goes down his spine. “I can’t leave the guys. We’re right in the middle of a serious game.”

“I just wanna play with you for a bit. Why should you get to have all the fun?” You pout, leaning over the couch a little to rub his clothed erection. He’s already starting to grow in your hands.

“Please…” Arisu rasps.

You kiss and suck his neck, now exposed from lowering his hoodie. Continuing to palm his thick length, you could feel the faint motion of his hips rolling up in a circle.

“Should I stop?” You ask, teasingly.

“Uh-uh.” He protests, eyes closed.

“That’s what I thought.” You say, pulling down his shorts and underwear with his assistance and free him of his restraints. Your mouth waters at the sight of his dick. It was just so pleasingly beautiful. Thick and decent in length, he knew exactly how to use it to hit the deepest parts of you.

You hold your palm out in front of him, signaling him to spit. Arisu obeys, whimpering once you began coating his cock with his saliva and slowly stroking him. His ragged breaths fill the air and it takes everything in you not to ravish him. Your free hand grabs a fistful of his hair, turning his head to the side for a kiss. Upping the theatrics of the kiss, you massage your tongue over his while moaning. It was absolutely pornographic.

Sucking on his bottom lip, you drag it along with you before letting it go with faint pop. Your grip tightens around him, focusing your clenched fist around the sensitive tip of his cock.

His mouth parts, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. He looks so amazing. How was it possible that you were his first girlfriend with beauty like that? You clasp a hand around his neck, applying enough pressure to choke out a sob.

“Y/n…”

You bite down on his earlobe, stroking him quicker. “Ryohei, don’t hold back. Make some noise for me.”

Arisu does as you say. No longer afraid to be vulnerable with being subservient to you. With every tug, he makes a soft ‘uh, uh, uh’ sound. He could feel his balls drawing up, the tension in the pit of his stomach building up.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whines.

“I wanna see your eyes when you cum. Please, daddy.” You were surprised yourself that you let that slip out. You’ve never called a guy that before especially not when you’re the dominant one in bed. But you were just so desperate to please him that he’d earned the title in that moment.

You could tell that it was just what he needed to let go, eyes open as you stare back at him intensely. He lets out a guttural moan, back arching as he spills over himself. His warm cum spurts out and runs down your fist and his tummy. You continue to jerk him, wanting to extend his pleasure for as long as he could take it.

“That’s it, daddy. Let go. Make a mess for me.” You kiss up his neck some more, it slightly sweaty from the exertion.

He begins to shudder and sob at the overstimulation. His nails sink into the couch cushion under him, searching for something to ground him. You have mercy on him, removing your hand and he can breathe again.

You make a show of licking his essence off your palm and fingers before crawling up the overhead of the couch, rolling onto the seat beside him. You plop your head in his lap, his dick still out but long gone soft. He hasn’t moved since his orgasm.

You stare up at him concern. “My love?”

He looks down at you in his lap with a blissed out smile and his hair was messy. “I’m back.”

“Good to know. I was worried I lost you there.” You giggle, soothing his hair.

He snaps out of his daze when he hears the notification sound from the TV. He quickly takes the controller to open the message.

“Dude, if you were going to abandon the game to get laid, at least give us a heads up. Also, your mic’s on.”

Arisu blushes profusely, taking a throw pillow to shove in his face. He muffles, “We forgot to turn off the mic! They’ll never let me live it down.”

“I’m sure they enjoyed the show.” You wink, rubbing his back.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

TWST As Lines I've Written/Said

Content Warning: Shitpost, suggestiveness(idk?) & swearing

Author's Note: These are either things I've said, or things that I've written down but haven't used... yet, might use them in the future, might not. Feel free to guess which is which.

Let the shenanigans begin!

Yuu, upon entering TWST

Yuu: “I’m motivated by spite and getting the fuck out of this damned place!” 

Crowley: “This damned place just so happens to be my school!” 

Yuu: “Yeah? Well, guess what Mr. Mystery Man, I fucking hate it here!” 

Crowley: “Rude.”

Typical Ace Behaviour

Yuu: “Behave, my friends are coming over.” 

Ace: “Weird. I didn’t know you were capable of having those.” 

Yuu: “You know what? You can go out and wait on the fire escape until they leave if you want to act like that.”

Capitalism Isn't Attractive

Deuce: “Do not fall for the pretty man with the fancy clothes!” 

Yuu: “Why not? He’s hot as fuck.” 

Deuce: “... He’s a capitalist.” 

Yuu: “THAT WHORE!”

Pissy Kitty

Leona: “Great, you again.” 

Yuu: “I’m thrilled to see you too, asshole.”

Floyd, just Floyd

Floyd: “Why not?” 

Yuu: “Unlike you, I don’t want to die!” 

Floyd: “Boo, you’re lame.”

Yuu Needs a Raise

Yuu: “My therapist will be thrilled to hear about this revelation.” 

Everyone: “What’s a therapist?”

Why Are You Like This?

Vil: “You are a blithering buffoon.” 

Yuu: “Takes one to know one.” 

Vil: “...Listen here you little piece of -”

Cryptid Hours

Yuu: *walks into room to find Idia sitting in the dark, facing the corner* “Did the voices win today?”

Idia: “Undecided.”

Yuu: “Okay then, let me know if that changes. Since I would like a headstart before you go all *insert demon noises* on me.”

After Any Overblot

Yuu: "I feel like a baked potato." *passes out*

The Adventures of Malleus

Malleus: “Tell me, Child of Man; do humans typically court through the acquiring and displaying of fish?”

Yuu: “Why?”

Malleus: *has been secretly using your phone for research and found himself on Tinder* “Just curious is all.”

Yuu: “... No, it’s not typical.”

Malleus: “Alright then, noted.”

Dear Professor Vargas, I regret to inform you that your attempts to woo a potential mate through your acquiring of fish may not be successful. And does the "DILF" shorts mean, "Darling, I Love Fish?" ... Asking for a friend. Sincerely, Malleus Draconia

Octopus Eyesight

Yuu: “Do you have astigmatism?”

Azul: “Do I have what?”

Yuu: “Astigmatism, like when you look at lights at night do you see lines? Since you have weird ass pupils.”

Azul: “...wait, that isn’t normal?”

Should I Be Nervous?

Yuu: “Have you ever been overcome with the lust for broccoli?”

Trey: ". . ."

Yuu: *squints, thinking* “Break glass in case of sudden lust for broccoli...”

Trey: "Should I leave?"

A Question to Ponder

Yuu: “Why do fictional men slap so hard? Like damn.”

Riddle: “Because they are not real and do not come with any of the negative consequences that often come with real men, also you can better idealize them… And anime, ‘Makes you go brrrrr,’ as you put it.”

College Life

Rollo: “I am running off 3 hours of sleep and a single croissant, do not test me.”

Baby Talk

Rook: “Ah, bonjour chatton!" *proceeds to babytalk to the cat in French*

Yuu's Type

Yuu: “I have 4 types; wet cat, malewife, girlboss, and whore." tag yourself

Crewel: "... You need to focus on your grades, not on some mutts."

What Do You Have?

Jamil: "What's that?"

Kalim: *hiding a cat that he stole from outside* "Uhhh, my love for you?"

Jamil: *annoyed* "Put it back outside, Kalim."

Kalim: *puts the cat in his face* "BUT LOOK AT THEM!! THEY BABEY!!!!"

[spoonsock]

3 AM shenanigans

Gwen Stacy x reader

Synopsis: It’s late, you’re hungry and your girlfriend can’t cook to save her life.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and typical teenage fucking around late at night.

Not proofread. I’ve come to realization I never proofread anything I write. Oh well.

Take this short little thing instead of a part 2 for show me love, I’ll write it soon I swear 🙏 also I’m glad that the whole community agrees that Gwen can’t cook lmaoo.

“I’m hungry”

“And how’s that my problem?”

You push the absolute bully of your girlfriend. “Ouch”, she says monotonously, eyes still closed, and you glare at her, knowing darn well she can feel you doing so.

You’re sleeping over at her place, her dad’s not home and you’re both laying on her bed, trying to fall asleep but the grumbling of your stomach is interrupting you. You ate dinner but it has been a couple of hours since then and. You. Are. Hungry.

You turn on your back to glance at the clock on Gwen’s nightstand. 03:05 it says. Whatever, you think, it’s never to late to eat.

“Gwendyy, I’m staaaarvingggg”, you pout at her.

“No” is the only answer you get. “…Fine, I didn’t want to resort to this, but I guess you leave me no choice”, you say before getting up from the bed and grabbing both of Gwen’s arms and dragging her upwards. The attempt of getting her to get up doesn’t work and she falls from the bed, making a loud noise as she lands. Before you can process it, she grabs your knees and pulls, letting you to fall flat on your butt with a thump.

You pretend to be hurt and she actually gets worried for a second and you use that moment to grab her hands and pin them above her head, getting on top of her as she’s laying on the floor, not letting her move, and looking her dead in the eye before saying how you need to eat or you’ll die and it’ll be her fault *she know’s you’re exaggerating ofc*.

Unfortunately for you, your girlfriend is Spider-woman. Idk why would you even think you could overpower her, she literally has super strength. So she easily turns you over and pins your arms above your head before whisper yelling at you how there will be no food making at 3 in the morning. The two of you toss and turn on the floor for some time, like a pair of fucking toddlers, giggling and wiping the dust off of the floor with your pajamas.

Eventually Gwen gives in and you happily lead her to her own kitchen. You’ve never cooked in her kitchen though, meaning you don’t know where anything is, so your girlfriend tells you to sit still while she makes you something to eat.

“You know what, if I really have to cook for you in the middle of the night, Imma cook you the meal of your life”, she says and excitement builds up inside of you, wondering what kind of a Gordon Ramsay bullshit is she about to pull. You watch her patiently as she brings ingredients out of her fridge and pulls out a bowl and cutlery from different drawers. She heats up some oil in a big ass pot and then adds a thing after a thing in it.

After a while, you smell something burning and you ask her if everything’s okay, but she assures you it’s all doing great and you decide to ask no more, even though you definitely heard the panic in her voice.

Aside from that, she looks super confident in whatever she’s doing so you don’t even ask her what is she making for you, and honestly, you don’t even wanna know. You trust her and you’re hungry and you’ll eat whatever she makes for you.

Or at least that’s what you thought, until she put the big ass bowl™️ in front of you. And in it was a suspicious liquid mixture of pasta, different types of something green, carrots (hopefully?), corn, jelly????, mushrooms, bacon, and other suspicious stuff. Gwen hands you a spoon and smiles brightly, all the signs of tiredness disappeared, as if she wasn’t desperately trying to fall asleep cuddled up next to you, like, half of an hour ago.

“Bon appétit, babe”, she says, putting on a bad french accent.

Your girlfriend sits next to you, waiting for you to try the meal (?) she has prepared for you, and you give her a hesitant smile before dipping the spoon in the bowl and then putting it in your mouth.

You couldn’t even get yourself to swallow whatever you just put in your mouth because the feeling of it on your tongue made you immediately start to choke. It was sweet, salty, bitter, spicy and cold all at the same time. You run to get yourself some water, trying to lose the taste of it from your mouth while Gwen watches you confused. As you are drinking your water, she decides to try the meal herself and has the same reaction as you do.

So you just stand there silently, in her kitchen, staring at the big ass bowl™️ on the table. It seems as if something will jump out of it and attack you. The liquid reminds you of a swamp and you don’t feel hungry at all anymore.

Gwen sighs deeply. The two of you decide to go back to bed and try not to have nightmares of the meal your dear spider girlfriend has prepared for you. At least you know she put effort in trying to make you happy, which warms your heart and you pull her closer to you to press a kiss on her forehead.

When you wake up, you see her dad in the kitchen, sitting down and staring at the bowl intently and quietly, as if contemplating his whole existence because of the bowl. “You tried it, didn’t you?”, you ask and he slowly nods his head, obviously still in shock from the taste of the meal.

That was the day you decided you’ll be the one to prepare food from now on.

Guys she was trying to make minestrone (soup) bc she saw a recipe for it somewhere and she really wanted to try making it. She’s so precious 🥹💞

Yes I put trademark ™️ on the big ass bowl.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Homecoming Daydream Part 2

Summary: With the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader.

Genre: Romance, fluff and smut.

Author's note: This is a multiple-chapter Toto x Reader fanfic. Noted that English is not my mother tongue so there will be mistakes.

Part 1: Homecoming Daydream

Y/n hadn’t lied before. She wasn’t nervous about marrying Toto. Like at all. 

At that moment, as she walked towards him, down the altar, she was overcome not by excitement but was overwhelmed with the sense of love. The sight of someone, and not just someone, he is, the man in her dream standing at the end of the aisle, patiently waiting for her. She felt like she must have been trapped in a dream, one that she silently prayed to never be woken up from. But as her tipped French nails poked into the palm of her hand, she realised that all these things were happening and they were indeed, 100% true. As she neared him, she could feel the nerves and butterflies disappear and be replaced by a warm feeling of peace and serenity. Like a homecoming. And she is indeed at home now and forevermore. 

All she could do was focus on the heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Then, Toto’s warm hand wrapped around her own. Then, his face – his beautiful dark brown eyes so invitingly warm and intense, she felt caught in his gaze. Then, his gorgeous smile, told her just how happy he was. And slowly her heartbeat steadied, the deafening pulse quieted and she was gently grounded back into the moment with him. I am home, she thought. 

And not a second too early, because as she caught Fred’s expectant gaze, she realized that they somehow must’ve gotten to the part where they would exchange their vows. Y/n cleared her throat. The words came so easily – because they were true. 

“Toto. I must say this and I know it’s not a very romantic way to start a vow but I had a pretty much okay life before I met you.”

There was a low rumble of laughter in the crowd. Y/n smiled and took another deep breath before she continued.

“It’s not fantastic, just average like anyone else’s life out there can be, and I guess I was fine with it. With the thought of being a loner traveller in this lifetime. With the thought of never being the chosen one. Everything ate me up and made me believe it that way. Until I met you. I never expected to meet someone like you. I didn’t even think of someone like you to ever set foot in my life. Slowly, I get to know the beautiful person you are, inside and out. To be so lucky as to fall in love with you. I’ve found my new home, you – right here. And I couldn’t be more grateful to spend my life with you.”

She saw the moisture shimmering in his eyes and was sure that her own looked pretty similar. He smiled, before nodding at Fred and taking a deep breath. 

“ Y/n, my life was pretty much like yours before I met you. Except for all the noise, the hustle lifestyle and the demands of everything in my life,... Too much that there were days I thought it was going to swallow me whole. That was until we came across. I didn’t know I could ever admire one’s eyes this much, and just hearing your laughter and being with you made me feel at home. You called me your home, Schatz. Well, you are mine, too. As you have given me your hands to hold, so I give you my life to hold from this day forward.” 

Her heart beat steadily throughout his vows, but the tears that had been on the verge of slipping before now streamed freely down her face. There was nothing she could do about it. It was as though her love for this man poured out of her body because there was simply too much of it to be physically contained.

She was vaguely aware that Lewis stepped forward behind Toto and handed him something. Toto took the box and flipped it open, revealing two rings. Y/n gasped and swallowed an incredulous chuckle at the size of the diamond inside. Toto hadn’t proposed to her with an engagement ring, since he’d done it spontaneously one night, while they were still wrapped up in bed together. After, she’d told him not to get one, since she found a single wedding ring would more than suffice. Really, she should’ve expected that he would go above and beyond with it, knowing he would go feral in choosing her the perfect ring, with the biggest diamond, of course. He smirked at her reaction and picked the ring from the box, looking at Lewis expectantly. His friend chuckled.

“Okay, I feel kinda silly even asking after all of that, but here we go. Toto, do you Y/n to be your wife?” 

“I do”, Toto answered, his voice even and earnest, despite his smile. Then he slid the ring in place and lifted her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. 

“I love you” he whispered. 

That steady pulse from before was replaced by a frantic gallop, her heart almost jumping out of her chest at the touch of his lips. 

“And Y/n, do you take Grandpa Toto here to be your husband?”

There was another rumble of laughter from the audience, Toto however, acted as though he hadn’t even heard the quip, his eyes glued to her face, her lips. Waiting to hear her answer. As if he still couldn’t believe she’d agree. Silly old man. 

“I do“, she said. Then she plucked the other ring from the box, a simple gold band, and took Toto’s hand.

“And I love you too,“ she whispered and slid the ring onto his finger. 

They stood there and stared at each other, both smiling and silently crying, until Fred cleared his throat and even his voice sounded suspiciously tight with emotion. 

“Well, then with the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your wife now, Wolff.”

And then just only waiting for that moment, her husband did what he was said to do. 

 Everyone cheered, as Toto released Y/n just slightly, still holding her in his arms, as she grinned up at him. „Hey husband“, she whispered.

His heart felt like it had grown three sizes.

„Hey wife“, he answered, with a smile so wide it actually hurt.

The music turned up in the background and people jumped out of their chairs, charging towards them for hugs and kisses. Lewis was first since he stood right next to them. He clapped Toto on the back before twirling Y/n into one of his bear hugs, making her laugh as he lifted her off the ground. 

“Welcome to the fam, Mrs. Wolff or you prefer it as Mrs. Mercedes. Thank you for saving us from the wrath of him smashing  another pair of Bose’s headphones.”

“I’m more than happy too,” she answered with a wink towards Toto. 

Y/n’s friends and family were another matter, alternately sobbing blended with screaming here and there (happy scream, of course) as they essentially pried her from his hands. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave a little shrug while rolling her eyes, before trying to calm everyone down. As dramatic as them all, she felt whole with them here today. 

Half an hour later, most of the crying was done, and people had started mingling and dancing. And Y/n was finally back at his side, as he pulled her out onto the dancefloor for their first dance as wife and husband. 

„I missed you“, she murmured, sighing happily as she leaned into him, slowly swaying from side to side. 

He grinned.

„I missed you too, sweetheart. Almost broke that stupid rule and came to see you last night, but they almost sent a missing report so I pretty much couldn’t pull the trick of meeting at a secret place like Romeo and Juliet.“

“You want us to die. That’s not what I imagine a happily ever after ending is about, Toto. Did I just marry a crazy, old man?” 

“You did not say that.” He said, completely serious.

“Is that so?”

“Just so you know, wifey. This crazy, old man here fully intended to fuck you tonight. you look so perfect in this dress. Makes me wanna fucking ruin you.” 

She tilted her head as though she was weighing her options with a flushed face. 

“Hmm. That’s the kind of crazy I can handle. And you also aged just fine, husband. Also, you've already ruined me. I can't go five minutes without thinking about your hands on me, our bodies intertwined.”

Toto cursed quietly, already feeling himself harden in his suit. Not an ideal situation, with everyone watching them spin around in slow circles on the dance floor. 

“Oh, Schatz, you can’t say this in public without expecting me to get all hard up.”

Y/n hummed quietly and leaned closer, sliding her hand down his back and pressing her soft body against his torso.

“Rewards come to those whose patience, husband of mine. I promise you there will present for you to open tonight.”

After making the rounds, taking turns dancing with their friends and family, posing for photos and indulging in the food, Toto's patience was running thin. Although surrounded by family and beloved friends, Toto felt increasingly impatient. The wedding felt like an eternity and a huge distraction from the real reason they were all there: to witness Toto and his bride say "I do." He now started to wonder where his wife had gone since she disappeared 15 minutes ago. 

“Have you guys seen my wife?” Toto asked Lewis, Sebastian and George. 

“You really enjoy saying that, huh?“ George teased.

“I think she went upstairs to freshen up, maybe,” Lewis said.

[maxybabyy]

It’s barely noon.

Daniel has only been back in Monaco for a handful of hours, burnt out from flying commercial and dressed obnoxiously in bright orange, and still, he’s here.

He pulls up Max’s text one more time and stares sceptically at the building in front of him. But he’s in the right spot, the tiny guy on the map right on top of the address Max had sent.

The lady behind the reception desk looks up when he enters, a polite smile on her lips as she comes forward to greet him, “Bonjour monsieur, comment ca va?”

Daniel’s been here for too long for his French to be as bad as it is, stutters out a, “Ca va bien,” before he switches to English. “Uh, I’m here for my cats?”

“Certainly,” she says, her accent even less pronounced than Charles’. She goes back behind the desk, points out the small bevvy station on her way there. Daniel’s been in formula one for over ten years, has lived in Monaco for most of that, but this fucking cat hotel may still be the fanciest shit he’s been to. “May I ask what cats you are here for?”

Daniel jiggles the handle of the coffeemaker, watches what he hopes is coffee drip into the branded to-go cup. “Uh, Jimmy and Sassy? They’re like, Bengals, with the stripes and shit? If you have two cats that look the same, I reckon it’s probably them,” he says, searches and fails to locate a lid.

The lady coughs, and Daniel decisively doesn’t look at her, cannot – knows she has to be laughing at him. Fucking, disaster step-cat dad that he is; Max would already have them loaded up in the car and be on his way.

“The cats are registered with internal ID numbers, monsieur. I cannot tell you if we have your cats otherwise, my apologies,” she tells him, not unkind.

“Right, yeah. Let me get those for you then,” he says, chuckles. He scrolls back to the cursed message that had started it all, rattles off the IDs for both cats to the lady’s mild surprise.

‘you of course don’t have to, but always the cats like it better when they can be at home.’ He reads back now, wishes he had never ventured into the world of cat sitting and long-term pet boarding.

“I will have someone come out with your cats right away, monsieur Verstappen,” she says, taps away at the computer for a moment before the printer starts to spit out a stack of papers. “If I can just have you sign here, you will be all set.”

Daniel swallows down half of the coffee, scrapes his teeth over his tongue to mask the burn. “’course, I’m not Max, though. Just for filing purposes, I guess.” He says, scribbles his signature on the dotted line. It’s the same fucking signature that he would do on a hat or whatever the fans put in front of him, and it shouldn’t make him feel embarrassed, but it does. “My name’s Daniel. Ricciardo, I should be on the list though.”

The lady smiles, licks her finger to flick a page. “Certainly, monsieur Ricciardo.”

A man in his early twenties comes out, a cat carrier in each arm. He puts the cats on the desk and rattles off a report of their stay these past weeks, the meals they had, how they behaved, their moods.

Daniel tries to listen, makes himself remember enough that Max will be satisfied even if they didn’t also send out an update by mail every three days. The guy doesn’t stop talking, so Daniel nods along, pokes his finger through the grid and watches Sassy swat at it; Jimmy who gives him a polite lick.

Even if their names weren’t printed on the carrier, this would give them away. That at least he knows.

“Great, yeah. Thanks mate,” Daniel says and moves them down to rest by his feet. “Do I need to pay something, or will we get an invoice, or like?”

“Monsieur Verstappen has an account with us, so there is no need for that. He will be notified by mail. But I can offer you a receipt?” She says, and even she sounds unsure about the offer.

“Yeah, that would be good, cheers.”

The printer makes another noise, and one of the cats meows in response, the other quick to echo. She hands it over with a smile, and Daniel stuffs it into his pocket with a quick ‘thanks’ and picks up his cats to leave.

He’s lying on the couch later, Jimmy on his chest and Max’s latest voice message playing over the phone when he finally pulls out the receipt.

“You’re such a fucking spoilt cat, Jims.” He says, kisses his head.

Jimmy meows softly, bumps his chin with his head, so Daniel kisses him again, watches his tail flick in the air.

Yeah, alright, he thinks, maybe they do deserve it.  

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning 

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today. 

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?” 

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”  

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one. 

But that hope was short lived. 

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case. 

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it? 

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...” 

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way. 

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through  

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration. 

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?” 

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?” 

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times. 

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out. 

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you. 

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine. 

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too” 

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...” 

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.  

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?  

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”  

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?” 

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”  

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you. 

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!” 

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.  

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent. 

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere. 

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand 

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even. 

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again. 

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch. 

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty” 

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features 

“You were taking so long!”  

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short. 

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.  

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?  

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.  

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you  

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute” 

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing. 

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure. 

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but- 

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something” 

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English. 

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible. 

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.  

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain. 

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion. 

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.  

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day. 

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level. 

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window. 

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused. 

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions. 

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind. 

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that 

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that. 

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly” 

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest. 

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and- 

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this. 

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it 

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?” 

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all” 

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.  

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.  

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?” 

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add. 

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning” 

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom? 

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.  

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?  

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:  

DAD 

A due reminder that none of this is real.  

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

If anybody is missing from the taglist, please send me a message! I've had some problems with tumblr lately so I'm really sorry if I didn't tag you.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Hey Tate hope you’re doing well! Do you have any spicy headcannons of the Monster Trio + Law? Love your writings 😮‍💨

A/N: THANK U :D My stupid ass thought I already did this HA I didn’t though. I have a nsfw alphabet for these guys too in my drafts so I’ll try to make this one short (keyword: try) I gotchu tho thank u for requesting! Enjoy!:)

ALSO TYSM FOR 400 FOLLOWERS OMG🤍

General NSFW Headcanons for the Monster Trio and Law

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, & Law

CW: Just General Smut ig? Not too descriptive tho

-

Sanji

He has the highest libido obvious fact is obvious out of all the men listed so if you’re his woman prepared to be harassed like a mf.

Okay not really harass but when he is feeling very needy he subconsciously touches you; lingering touches, hand on your waist, rubs your lower back. He doesn’t really realize he is doing either until you look up at his flustered face and tell him

Imma keep saying it: Sanji moans in French in your ear and it’s the hottest thing to ever experience

He loves to overstimulate and edge himself whether he is alone or with you he doesn’t care but if he’s with you than have fun because you’re ganna have tears running

Sanji enjoys seeing you wear lingerie. It’s almost like a kink/fetish to him and sometimes he just ends up having sex with you with it still on

Sanji loves having his fingers sucked. He didn’t realize he liked it so much until you did it once after he fingered you

Speaking of fingers: he absolutely loves seeing the sight of his ring and middle finger in your cunt. 12/10 experience and he can do it all day

He fingers you a lot while he cuddles you in bed. You’ll be half asleep and suddenly feel Sanji’s hands squeeze your breast and lazily rub your clit

Sanji does in fact believe your pleasure is more important than his so sometimes when he feels himself getting close before you he’ll pull out and use his tongue to pace himself

He loves kissing sm. Can you guess what kinda kissing? Yes, he loves to French kiss he can make out with you for hours and it really doesn’t get boring

He LOVES BOOBJOBS MORE THAN BLOWJOBS. It’s true he told me. He doesn’t care if your tits are huge like Zoro’s or small like mine if he can stick it in between he will. Bonus points if you decide to lick the tip as it comes close to your mouth

His favorite way of initiating sex is starting off with sensual massages. He’ll always start off so slow rubbing the warm oil on your body, his words are super sweet, but then eventually you’ll feel the pads of his thumb rub against your lower lips under the very small towel he gave you barely covering your butt anyways waiting for you to beg just a little for him to flip you over and go down on you. It ends being very messy I may make a Drabble of this

He jacks off a lot on the Sunny. He usually does it in the bathroom when everybody is distracted and not in the kitchen.

Sanji would make it clear to you that he wants YOU to come to HIM when you’re feeling needy. If he catches you masturbating without him he’ll feel like he isn’t satisfying you enough so he’ll ofc think it’s hot seeing you, but will be very pouty

He always enjoys the thought of being marked up by a woman so pls do it and leave hickies on him :( he wears button down shirts for a reason!

When Sanji first got a blowjob from a woman he cried after cuming in her mouth

Everything is very romantic and sensual with Sanji. A night with him will always be memorable

He is really good and fast learner of the woman’s body. He can find the G-Spot very quickly

Everytime they dock on a new island he sometimes try to see if they have a brothel, but never actually goes in he just wants to know they’re there. He doesn’t like the thought of paying for sex

He LOVES STRIP TEASES! Pushing him on his back and doing it on his lap really gets him going

Sanji’s favorite position is like a cuddle fuck; his body is wrapped and on top of you giving your deep hard thrust because he loves the noises you make right in his ear when he pushes inside you

He needs to hold hands—-when doing oral, when having sex he doesn’t care he needs to feel your hands

He gives the best tongue baths too. His tongue in general is a weapon in and of itself

Law

He has a pretty low libido, but it’s high when he’s stressed out or you manage to successfully tease him which is so difficult

He’s the biggest tease out of all of them though jackass

He only masturbates in the shower because he hates leaving an unnecessary mess to clean afterwards

When he feels needy which is rare he’ll make you work with him all day, getting up to hover over your body, and tell you stupid ass facts about the female anatomy (I’m sorry but Law has no clue how to flirt and yall will not fight me on this)

“You know an orgasm a day is healthy for women with cramps.”

“I don’t have any cramps right now.”

“That’s not the point—“

He hates the thought of a woman dominating him. He just does. He doesn’t mind you being on top, but just know he will be doing all of the work

Speaking of being on top thats his favorite position. He enjoys the sight of your body squirming on top of him

Law May not have a high libido but he’s an undercover pervert KSBSJSKSK

Law’s mind is so perverted pls. He has a really good poker face but when he sees your attempts in trying to seduce him all he can think about when you turn out the door in defeat is to pull you back and take you right there on the wall

Law can be kinda awkward he tries to initiate sex. Keyword though: TRIES. Usually it doesn’t take much for you to want to jump on his Dick but he doesn’t understand the power he has over you so when he makes an effort to be hot it’s so funny

“Law why are you shirtless in my room?”

“I thought you would like it—“

He’s a doctor so he knows the anatomy of a woman so him finding the clit or your sweet spot is never an issue

Law doesn’t like bald 🐱. He knows the importance of having pubic hair on a woman so if you ever feel like you need to shave he’ll tell you not to worry about it

The first day after meeting Luffy he room’ed you and him to a hotel and fucked you senseless out of frustration because he didn’t want to have to clean any messes in his room or office. You actually appreciated the Strawhats for that

Law gets so turned on with thigh high socks and a big tee shirt (bonus points if it’s his shirt) he just really likes it and when you tease him about it he gets so mad and pink

Law is a grunted and if you manage you grind or lick in the right direction he’ll grip any fatty part of your body and huff out your name

Loves when you take his hat to wear when you ride him

He enjoys shower sex alot. However he still likes to make you naturally aroused and not use the water as a lubricant

Law likes to hear what you want done to yourself by him so he’ll usually start teasing you and ask you to “use your words.”

He likes to make out with you with you straddling him while he grabs your thighs

His worse fear is being caught with you so if you have an exhibition kink you’re ganna be disappointed.

Luffy

His libido wasn’t high until he got with yo horny ass

He didn’t see the interest in sex. He knew what that was but didn’t care for it. But after you gave him head once and since he has an additive personality he is all for it.

I Like how a lot of people hc him as the type to blurt out when he wants to have sex so yes I hc that too. If you and him just had sex that morning and later that evening he wants it again, he’ll be like “Y/N tonight I want you in my room.” While just casually eating and announcing it during dinner with absolutely no shame

He knows what jacking off is and he doesn’t do it alot because he doesn’t really feel the need to. Only when he wakes up with a morning wood he’ll go to the bathroom (or under his covers) and take care of himself

Sex with Luffy is actually really fun! He likes trying new things each time and makes alotta funny remarks—

“Should I make my Dick get longer or thicker?”

“Luffy Just put it in!”

Luffy likes quickies A LOT. So expect to feel his stretchy arms pull you across the ship mid conversation to be took on the storage room wall.

He likes hitting it from the back. Luffy will use his arms to wrap around your body many times and just go ham from behind.

Speaking of going ham his stamina and impatience knows no bounds so you have to teach him the importance of foreplay because if not he will try and do it while you’re dry and nobody needs that.

Luffy has a really attractive voice when he is close to cuming. He’s very loud too so sometimes you have to make him suck on your fingers or kiss him to be quiet

Luffy is such a sloppy pussy eater and sometimes you Gatta bring his head back up because he will end up accidentally eating your ass if you’re not careful

He doesn’t know where the clit is and misses it a lot so you have to guide him

He likes to watch you masturbate. HE LIKES IT ALOT ALOT. He’ll catch himself resting on his elbows seeing you rapidly rub circles on your clit with a tent forming in his pants. He manages to ignore it a lot to demand commands from you

“Put two fingers in.”

“Use both hands.”

He bites you when he’s close to cuming. Fucking feral child

He doesn’t even like jacking off he wants you to do it for him while he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked

He’s a pervert but he doesn’t know it KSHSJDKS

He likes seeing you in short skirts just to watch the bottom of it blow up to expose your little panties when you bend over

His head is always on, under , or hovering over your titties. Not even just when having sex just in GENERAL

He put his hat on you when you ride him

He also loves reverse cowgirl it turns him on sm seeing your ass bounce on his Dick :((((

Luffy enjoys hearing you moan “Captain” under him.

Absolutely the type to start having sex with you and immediately stop if he can

He can be going down on you, so super into it and you’re right at the brink of cuming when he just stops

“Lu—?!”

“LOOK WE MADE IT TO AN ISLAND!”

“IM NOT FINISHED YET?!”

He is a licker too. He will lick your face, body, he doesn’t give af and sometimes it’s not even sexual you can be eating a juicy fruit and he will lick the remainder juice off your cheek

He’s a really good kisser when he slows tf down. He usually tries to eat your damn face when he kisses you

Luffy kisses you out of excitement alot too.

He’s naturally touchy so he will always have you wrapped around his arms

He views sex as something similar to a conversation so sometimes you or Nami have to slap him when he exposes stuff you do in the bedroom

“And Y/N really likes when I shove my tongue in her—“

“LUFFY!”

He’s kinda a switch at heart? When he is on top he has such a raspy groan but when you’re on top he’s such a whiny little thing it’s so cute

Zoro

His libido is medium but he blames it on you lmao

“You’re the reason I’m like this.”

“You asked to eat MY pussy?!”

He makes you bite his sword. He loves hearing you moan but seeing you struggle to conceal them between your teeth looks even hotter tbh

He SOMETIMES knows where the clit is—he gets an attitude when you have to show him

“I knew where it was…”

“You were about to finger my ass—.”

He didn’t make a lot of noise at first, which kinda annoyed you because you could tell he was holding back so you started to suck his neck causing him to moaned out and it shocked you because it sounded so much more different than his natural deep voice

“Wh—what?!”

“Your moans are hot do it again…”

“GET OFF OF ME—“

He gets flustered so easily, sometimes all you have to do is compliment how strong he is and he wanna pounce on you.

Speaking of strength he absolutely has a size kink

He enjoys fucking you against a wall more than a bed

He also likes doing the 69 standing up this mf has no shame

Contrary to belief before he became a Strawhat he jacked off a lot. Then slowed down but then picked it back up when getting with you

Once again your fault somehow

He will not—for any reason—have you ride him. Everytime you try He just flips you over. It has nothing to do with being dom or sub because if anything he can be a bratty sub (SOMETIMES) but he just doesn’t want you on top. You’ve asked him about this and he just says “Because I’m always on top.” Like afucking child pouting

You really believe it’s because he can’t handle it

And it’s true

He don’t mind you riding his face though

That’s actually his go to when giving oral

He is another one that can start something and not finish it without being phased by it. He has done this to you a handful of times. Sometimes because he fell asleep or he was punishing you

Yes he has fell asleep when inside you or when giving your oral

He swears he has the best self control but once you start bending over wiggling that round jiggly ass of yours he loses all sense as a man

Booty Hunter Zoro is canon so not fight me on this

He is like Law. He doesn’t give af about a hairy 🐱. It’s not based on preference he’s just the type to be like:

“Open your legs.”

“I didn’t shave—-“

“I don’t give a fuck open your legs.”

He likes the feel of it Lowkey

Don’t make out with this man unless you wanna get fucked ok that’s the deal that’s just how he works

Like I said he isn’t loud but if you’re just feeling too good for him that one particular day he’ll groan continuously in your ear praising and degrading you

Doesn’t care if he gets caught

He does prefer a bigger woman only because he can manhandle them more and not worry about hurting you

He loves spreading you open very WIDELY and just jackhammering you.

Zoro doesn’t know how to be sensual if you hit him with it but he will TRY, HE WILL

He makes you cockwarm him a lot while you’re in the CN to help him have self control it’s the best and worse thing

He always wanted you to give him a blow job under the table while he is in a public restaurant but don’t know how to approach you about it

Will tongue kiss you with his cum still in your mouth

[anonymous-dentist]

o7 whatever u say boss

dealers choice? or just spiderbit being disgustingly cute?

Spider-Man is an enigma.

Reportedly, he was bitten by a “radioactive spider” when he was a teenager and that’s how he got his start in the heroing business.

Cellbit thinks that’s bullshit. There’s no such thing as a “radioactive spider”. And, even if there was, Spider-Man would’ve died from radiation poisoning; genetic mutation does not work like that, Cellbit knows firsthand just how it works, and it’s not like that. It’s a lot more painful and a lot less flashy.

Spider-Man is a mystery. Nobody knows who he is despite him being an active vigilante for almost a decade. He gives a different backstory to every newspaper interviewing him. He’s a puzzle, and Cellbit is going to solve him.

But first, Cellbit needs dinner. Then he can obsess.

The line at the deli is long enough to wrap around the block. Cellbit’s lucky enough to have gotten in it before it had gotten too long, but he still has at least another fifteen minutes to wait before he can get his goddamn sandwich and leave. He just wants a sandwich. A goddamn sandwich.

A car explodes in the distance. Cellbit can hear it, and he can hear the car alarm, and he can hear another explosion and a very French-sounding cackle. That’ll be Métal Noir, then- the most competent hero on the Federation’s payroll.

Cellbit rolls his eyes. Everyone in line mutters amongst themselves, slightly-but-not-really concerned. The man in line in front of Cellbit tenses, his shoulders hiking and his head snapping towards the noise.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Cellbit says.

The man hums curiously and glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

He has AirPods in, but he takes one out and asks, “What was that?”

“The explosion. I wouldn’t worry about it. Métal Noir has it covered, listen.”

He raises a bored finger and, as if on cue, there’s one more explosion, and then an excited cheer from the hero. He’s loud, loud enough to be heard blocks away.

The man’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! How did you know that?”

Cellbit shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

(It would be weird for him to say he could smell the fear and the blood, so he simply doesn’t.)

“Huh,” says the man. He looks Cellbit over with his eyes and turns around with a grin, pulling his other AirPod out and sticking the both of them in their case. “That’s cool! Are you a psychic or something?”

“…Or something.”

(Somebody’s scared.)

“Oh, me too. How does yours work?”

Oh. Huh. People don’t usually just offer up their abilities like that. So something has to be off.

So Cellbit smiles back, fake. “Nah, I was just messing with you. I’m a reporter, so I know a lot about heroes.”

The man’s face falls, also fake. “Wow, I see.”

But then he cheers back up, seemingly real. “I was just messing with you, too, then.”

And he winks, and Cellbit feels his face heat up just slightly.

(Someone is very scared.)

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees. For some reason, he winks back, and he can’t help but laugh lightly at the way the man’s cheeks redden. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Right, right,” the man smiles.

He laughs and offers a hand out that Cellbit hesitantly takes.

“Roier,” he says.

(Someone is very afraid.)

(Cellbit realizes that it’s himself.)

(And that’s okay.)

[lucem-stellarum]

I could totally believe that somewhere in the hoodie thief saga that Guy... wait. Let me set the scene.

-(faintly, from the other room) Honey, have you seen my hoodie?

-No, I mean MY hoodie. The one I wore to that thing last weekend (his voice gets louder and clearer as he walks in)

-Aww, you're so cute Honey, wearing my hoodie in our bed. But it's cooold and I need it back now.

-(mock offended) Yes it's my hoodie. Just because I let you wear it sometimes doesn't make it yours.

-Now let's not get all technical about who actually bought it. That doesn't matter. It's mine. My hoodie. And I need it back. So give.

-No? No? wHaT dO yOu mEaN no? (Guy's voice wavers in exaggerated desperation)

-(in the same tone as Miette) Oh! Oh, how cruel! You leave me bereft, at the mercy of the tumultuous elements, nigh at the edge of perishing from the cold! Won't you take mercy on one such as me?

-Well, that's not fair. Honey, please? It's freezing in here. You can have the whole blanket all to yourself.

-Sticking your tongue out at me? Rude! But if you're gonna be like that I can think of better things to be doing with it, ifyouknowwhatimean? (He does that one sound. You know the one. I have no idea how to transliterate it)

-Fine then. I guess we're just gonna have to share. It's our hoodie now. (Sounds of rustling fabric. His voice gets slightly muffled again) Don't yell at me! This way we both get what we want. I know my hands are cold, I told you it was freezing out here.

-You know, struggling like this is really making this sharing thing more difficult. Heh, but if you really want me to I could just stay here, with my face pressed against your chest. (Again, that one noise.)

-Okay, okay, I get it. Just hold still while I...

-(his voice gets clearer, and extremely close) Well hello there, beautiful. Come here often? I know I do, heh.

-You're so cute when you're embarrassed. Don't try to deny it, I can see you're blushing. (Kiss noises)

-Yeah I'm gonna kiss you. I love you. Even if you are an unrepentant hoodie thief (he gets cut off by a kiss from the listener)

-You know that's not fair, right? Kissing me to make me stop talking is just rude.

-Yes it is! (mock outrage) Just because it's a reliable way to get me to stop telling the TRUTH doesn't make it not rude! Besides, it's an overused cliche that completely disregards any legitimate concerns of the kissee. Yes, kissee is a real word. It's French.

-(sincerely) No, Honey, I'm not actually mad. You know I love your kisses. 10/10, would be kissed again. Can we snuggle now? It's snuggle time.

-Do you wanna be the big spoon or the little spoon? Awww yiss, I love being the little spoon. So warm and cozy. (rustling noises again).

-Yeah, Honey, I love you too.