#helmet!reader

[h8aaz]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

steel intelligence — ❝ HELMET .ᐟ READER ❞

★ meet star . . . she was originally the protector of soldier boy's very violent, very impulsive, very high brain—sitting over his head and shielding him from attacks upon his cranium. her name comes from the gold star that sat directly in the middle of her hunter green form, right above the eagle with open wings to view soldier boy's matching colored eyes.

shimmering n shining ! . . . star always makes it known that she's entered the room—unintentionally, of course. the miniscule gold flakes scattered across her skin catches the light in every direction, and if she turns too much, she could probably blind someone. doesn't help that she has one of the prettiest and brightest smiles possibly known to man.

brains of the operation ! . . . when she was transformed into a human by vought, she was given more knowledge than what she had gathered from soldier boy, seeing as he was borderline fried every second of the day. due to this hyper-intelligence, she's very calculated, contrasting to her gruff supe's impulsiveness. her planning and his disobedience causes too many arguments for the boys to handle—but she always wins at the end of the day.

dearest ben ! . . . she was the first part of his suit to be finished, meaning she's spent more time dealing with his brash nature than the rest of his vought-made suit. she knows how to deal with him more than anyone, knows more about him than anyone, more than he'd like to admit. despite her past memories as his helmet, and the major mistreatment that came with being an inanimate object owned by him, she loves him. she never stopped, even when she was told he was 'killed' by the russians (she never believed that for a second). but ben loves her back. and when he told her, she began to rant about how the beginning of their feelings came from some weird attachment issue from their past together, and that they should acknowledge that; but he got fed up so fast, saying she was spewing "made up shit" and excusing his behavior with "i'm not a fuckin' pussy, star. i don't get attached to shit, that's fucking stupid."

she's the woman ! . . . star is one of the few good things to come out of vought. she's a natural protector, indestructible because of her past form, insanely smart (not sister sage smart, but damn near close enough), and she's the perfect, most loving companion anyone could ever ask for. she's there when you need her, and even when you say you don't, she's still in your corner rooting for you. she's the opposite ben never openly wanted but constantly craved in secret, and now she's here, and she's real.

READ STAR'S NOTES !

coming soon . . .

GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . okay this is my last !reader (for now??) bc i'm at SIX READERS LMFAOO like i need to be stopped someone shut off my brain PLEASE!!

once again, CREDS TO @daylighted FOR CREATING BABY!READER AND THE OBJECTS!READER UNIVERSE!! love u sm dahlia 🩷🩷

layout inspo from @titsout4jackles !!

special tags: @sunsbaby @starzify @soldiersgirl @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @j2archives @legalmente-loca @immodestly-marina

added tags: @lunaleah

dividers made by me !!

© 𝐇𝟖𝐀𝐀𝐙 — don't copy or repost without MY permission!!

[trashytracktales]

GIRL DONT HOLD BACK

WRITE THE LANDO NORRIS HELMET SMUT

Finders keepers | LN⁴

🟢 summary ──── A moment of boredom turns into a game of control and restraint, with Lando pushing boundaries neither he nor his girlfriend expected on such a busy day.

🟢 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🟢 rating ──── explicit

🟢 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, smut, swearing, semi-public setting, soft!dom Lando, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, overstimulation, messy finish, Lando low-key losing it.

🟢 word count ──── 3.3k

🟢 date ──── Mar. 4, 2025

🟢 a/n ──── This one has been HIGHLY requested after one of you guys sent in this ask, so I shall deliver. I hope you enjoy it as much as you imagined & can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍

Also, yes. This is the second one-shot of the day, because I ACCIDENTALLY posted this Charles Leclerc piece earlier. It’s very short and I was supposed to post it after this one OOPSIES get greedy & go check it out. Thank you, love you all 💋

THERE IS HARDLY enough room for more than two people in the driver’s room. A physio table is pushed against the wall, a couple of chairs sit tucked under a desk covered in notes, post-its and water bottles, and a row of plastic shelves is holding some race suits, a change of clothes and toiletries, and a spare helmet. There is a faint scent of fresh rubber and overall newness of the place in the air that blends with the smell of rain, and something so distinctly Lando, a mix of his cologne and fabric softener.

She has been waiting for hours now. Day two of testing in Bahrain is dragging, and even though she loves watching her boyfriend hit the track, the long hours spent doing nothing are starting to wear on her. She finished reading three books in two days, rewatched her favorite TV show, and scrolled through her feed until the app informed her that there were no new posts.

She sighs, running a hand over the edge of the desk before deciding to tidy up a little. Not that there’s much to clean, since McLaren keeps these rooms nearly spotless, but at least it gives her something to do. A few minutes later, the post-its are arranged on the wall by color, the documents are organized in chronological order, and the water bottles have found a new home, crammed under the table.

Out of curiosity, her fingers brush over one of Lando’s new helmets, freshly designed for the pre-season testing. It’s sleek, predominantly black with neon streaks and intricate models running along the sides. On impulse, she lifts it, feeling its surprising weight before slipping it over her head. The padding presses snugly against her ears, muffling the distant sounds of mechanics still at work in the garage.

She can’t help but feel a vague claustrophobia surrounding her, but the feeling isn’t necessarily bad. On the contrary, it gives her the impression of safety, even if it inhibits her other senses.

Grinning to herself, she pulls out her phone and angles the camera for a selfie. The reflection in the visor catches the glow of the overhead lights, giving her an futuristic look. She continues to snap a few more photos, adjusting the tilt of her head, until a blurred figure appears in the background of her screen.

“Having fun all by yourself?” Lando’s voice is amused yet he sounds tired, and before she can turn around, she feels his arms wrap around her waist from behind. He leans in, lips ghosting over her shoulder in a lazy kiss.

She huffs out a laugh, nudging at his arms, “I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. You scared me.”

Lando chuckles, hands splaying over her stomach, thumbs brushing absentminded circles through the fabric of her shirt. “Sorry. Didn’t expect to catch you playing dress-up with my stuff.”

“Finders keepers,” she says in a singing voice, making Lando chuckle again.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“It looks cool,” she admits, “Therefore, it makes you look cool.”

Lando squeezes her a little tighter, “That mouth on you,” he teases.

The girl giggles, “Am I wrong? Also, you should’ve knocked, by the way,” she continues, reaching up to pull at the visor so she can actually see him.

“I should knock on a door that has my name on it?”

“Yeah, you do!” she sounds revolted, “Especially when you know there’s a lady waiting for you inside.”

Lando’s gaze darkens ever so slightly as he takes her in. She looks like a mirage under the dim light of the small room, her curls coming untamed from under his helmet and her eyes so bright and filled with love, looking back at him.

He nods with a boyish smile, “I’ll try to remember that next time.”

Maybe it’s just exhaustion making his eyes so heavy-lidded, the lingering adrenaline from a long day fading into something softer. But when she catches him staring, Lando has the same soft gaze he does whenever they sit on the couch and he’s about to doze off; he looks unintentionally hot like this, worn out but content.

“Alright, racer boy. Can we go now?” she asks, pressing back against him slightly.

Lando sighs, reluctant. “Not yet. I still have a couple of hours to go. Gotta go over the data with the engineers,” his fingers tighten briefly on her hips before he steps back. “You can head back to the hotel if you’re bored. I’ll get you a car.”

She pouts, “It’s not as fun without you.”

That wins her another chuckle, but this time, there’s something else in Lando’s expression. His gaze is shamelessly dragging over her with an intensity that makes her pulse stutter. It’s only now that he really registers that she’s wearing his helmet, his name and number stamped all over.

She’s worn his clothes before — his hoodies, his merch, his team’s attire — but this feels completely different. It makes his mouth dry and head spin, and he might be exhausted, but suddenly, swallowing the lump in his throat, Lando realizes he’s so turned on.

“Then stay,” he encourages her, “I have half an hour to decompress before going to debriefing. I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

His suit suddenly feels tighter, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He swallows again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he exhales slowly.

“Is that so?” she challanges him. “Something in mind already?”

He runs a hand through his curls before reaching for her again, “Maybe,” his voice is low, amused but laced with something indulgent. His fingers skim her waist, tracing the hem of her shirt as he tugs her closer. “You’re pretty inspiring.”

She tilts her head slightly, the visor still lifted so he can see the teasing glint in her eyes. “Well, that’s new,” she laughs. “But I was just messing around.”

Lando hums, unconvinced. “Sure you were.”

She moves to take the helmet off, but his hand catches hers mid-motion.

“No, leave it,” says Lando, thumb grazing over her knuckles. His breath is warm when he leans in, his next words spoken directly against its glossy material. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.”

A shiver rolls down her spine, and it quickly goes south, right between her legs. It makes Lando grin subtly, then he reaches for the visor, pulling it down with a definitive, loud click. At that, her world narrows in an instant, and the limited view somehow makes every touch and every breath between them more intense.

Lando walks her back until she’s perched on the edge of the physio table, her pulse hammering as she watches him, excited, but mostly curious about his plans. They have thirty minutes, so his movements aren’t rushed in any way. Quite the opposite. They’re almost lazy, but there’s something precise about the way he reaches for the zipper of his race suit.

He rolls his shoulders, loosening up, then adjusts the height of the table so that when he sinks to his knees in front of her, she’s exactly where he wants her to be. Patiently, his fingers trail up her legs, making slow work of the button on her jeans. There’s no hurry in the way he peels them down, taking her underwear with them in one go, but the moment he gets rid of them, there’s a shift in his demeanor.

Lando exhales sharply, his large hands splaying over her thighs as he looks at her, half-lust and half-serious. “You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he says, a hint of mischief curling around his words. “These walls aren’t real, and anyone passing by the door can hear us blink.”

There was a little giggle stuck in her throat, but now she barely has time to react before his fingers part her, his touch light at first, just exploring while he preps her with the dexterity of a man who did it countless of times before.

Her breath catches at the first slow stroke, her thighs tensing as he traces circles where she’s most sensitive. The first sound she makes is barely a whisper of a whimper, that Lando trained his ears to hear, since is muffled inside the helmet.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, “Is that my cue?”

Before she can answer, Lando leans in.

Initially, his mouth is warm and merciful. He licks into her with a sort of tamed hunger that’s out of his character, savoring every little shift of her hips, every shudder she tries to suppress. Even so, it sends her a clear message: even though his energy is low from the long day, his need to taste her is anything but.

The world outside their room hums with noise — faint conversations, the occasional shuffle of footsteps, the distant whir of power tools in the garage. But all she can focus on is the way he’s lapping at her clit, the slick sound of it embarrassingly loud in the small space, her own whimpers barely contained behind the visor.

Lando chuckles against her, the vibration making her head tilt back slightly; the weight of the helmet forces her to let her head fall against the wall, which positions her even better in front of him.

“Gonna have to be quieter than that,” he teases, slipping his fingers between her folds, pressing just enough to make her squirm.

She barely manages to shake her head, her breath ragged. The visor fogs up as a result, which forces her to close her eyes, since her sense of sight is officially useless.

Lando looks up proudly, fingers pushing deeper as he settles in, more than happy to test her limits. He knows how to curl them just right, the wet sounds obscene in the stillness of the room.

His free hand grips her thigh like he’s starved, holding her open for him, his name echoing softly inside the helmet — muted yet desperate. He feels the way she gets even more aroused with each passing second, coating his fingers with every slick stroke, her body responding to him exactly as it does every single time he takes over.

Startled with new sensations experienced in the dark, she brings a shaky hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the moans threatening to spill out, only to realize, all over again, that she can’t. A frustrated whimper escapes instead, the same hand scrambling for something to support herself. Finally, her fingers clutch at the edge of the table, but it’s useless; her hips are already rolling against Lando, chasing more.

“Mhm,” he hums, his voice shallow. “Getting so wet for me, should’ve done this ages ago. Why didn’t we?”

She gasps, trembling on the edge and so ready to agree with him, but then Lando stops, and the loss of his fingers is almost unbearable. Before she can think, a loud, frustrated moan slips past her lips, making him laugh at her impatience.

She’s too gone now, drunk on the feeling, and the weight of the helmet is definitely not helping. Not when she’s melting under his touch, making it hard to move, and pretty much do anything but stay there, waiting. Aching for more.

Lando watches her for a moment, dark-eyed and smirking, already hard just from seeing her like this, her body so pliant and responsive under his hands. He pulls himself out with one hand, stroking lightly, and with the other, he grips the edge of the helmet, forcing her to look at him.

“Alright, baby, I’m serious. No more of that, okay?” asks Lando. “If someone hears us, it’s gonna be bad. And we don’t want that, do we?” he continues, watching her gathering all her strength only to nod slightly. “That’s right. The second I hear you moan, I’ll have to stop.”

Even Lando knows it’s a lie, but he had to say it, just in case.

She swallows, nodding again as best as she can, her pulse a frantic rhythm against his fingers when he drags his hands down her sides, holding her still. Then, with a precise snap of his hips, he buries himself inside her, stealing the breath from her lungs.

The force of it sends a shudder through the physio table, the legs creaking against the floor. She barely has time to adjust before he thrusts again, deeper this time, pressing her body into the table like he’s trying to mold her into it. Her thighs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, desperate to keep him there, to keep him buried inside her where she needs him most, the weight of him, the pressure and the friction maddening.

Lando swallows a moan, but some of it manages to slip past gritted teeth, “Fuck, you look—” he cuts himself off, sucking in a sharp breath. He doesn’t even have words for it. The way she feels around him and the heat of her pulling him back in every time he dares to pull away, it’s enough to make his mind go blank.

The table shifts again, inching against the floor with every thrust. She grips at the suit still clinging to his shoulders, trying to hold onto something, but there’s no escape from the way he’s driving into her, every drag of his cock making her shake beneath him.

“Lando…”

He knows. He feels it too. The way they’re teetering on the edge of something dangerously intoxicating, and the way they’re doing that together.

His hands tighten on her, his next thrust shoving the table another inch to the side. “Shit,” he breathes, voice husky with restraint. “Hold on, love. A little more, yeah?” He grips the edges of the table and snaps his hips forward again, watching the way her body reacts to him. “Fucking hell,” he spits, eyes dark as he watches her fall apart under him, little by little. “Keep me in, baby. Like that.”

She clings to him without hesitation, like she was made for this, for him. He’s marking her and he knows it, his fingers moving back to her waist, digging into her soft flesh. Lando’s name is all over her, in ways that only he can see, in places only he gets to touch. And the way she lets him, makes his head spin.

In the haze of it all, a sudden, foreign thought crashes into him like a gut-punch: her name next to his. It’s ridiculous, completely out of place in a moment like this, but it paralyzes him for a second. Until his body reacts on its own, fire spreading through his veins. He leans forward, caging her in, his thrusts becoming sharper, more desperate. His forehead presses against the cool surface of the helmet for just a moment, grounding himself, before he pulls back and looks at her.

He can barely see her eyes, wide and glazed over, but it’s enough. His fingers tighten on her hips as he slams back into her, dragging her flush against him, letting her feel every inch of his length. The sharp noise that the table makes underneath them is lost in the delicious sounds of their bodies moving together, of their heavy breathing, of the desperate way she silently whimpers his name like she wants to keep it on her tongue forever.

He’s spiraling, drowning in the heat of her, in the thought that she lets him take her like this, lets him ruin her for anyone else.

Yet somehow, it’s still not enough.

Her hands fly up instinctively, grasping at the helmet, knuckles turning white as she tries to steady herself against the overwhelming feeling of him.

Outside the room, voices pass by again, too close, and Lando clenches his jaw, fighting his own demons as he’s forcing himself to stay quiet.

Luckily, she’s close. He can feel it in the way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes as she tries her hardest to stay silent. Inside the helmet though, her breathing is shallow, small cries coming out of her parted lips.

“Come on, pretty girl,” says Lando in a demanding yet soft tone. One of his hands clamps around her neck, guiding her into each thrust. “Give it to me. Let me feel you.”

Lando doesn’t slow down one bit, rolling his hips in a way that he knows it drives her wild. As a result, her body tenses, trembling as pleasure overtakes her. A choked gasp echoes inside the helmet, and Lando smirks, watching her unravel. He’s so utterly captivated by the way her walls tighten around him and the way her thighs quiver in his hands, as if she can crumble if he’s won’t be careful. It’s almost too much for him, but Lando manages to pull out just in time, watching as her release coats his throbbing length, as she shudders through the aftershocks.

“Yeah,” he breaths, running a hand up and down her thigh. “Such a good girl, baby. Let it all out.”

She slumps back against the table, panting inside the helmet, her body overly sensitive. Keeping his eyes on her, Lando gives himself a few slow strokes, exhaling hard through his nose; he’s so close it’s painful.

“You okay?” he asks her, his voice as hoarse as if he screamed for hours at a concert.

Slowly coming back to her senses, she exhales sharply, “I’m good,” she manages and, before she gets the chance to ask him the same question, Lando slaps her thigh in order to catch her attention.

“Down on your knees, then. Come on,” he rasps, guiding the girl to her knees, his patience wearing out quickly, as he tilts her chin up with two fingers.

The glow of the light catches on the sleek surface of the helmet, and something about it — about her like this, still catching her breath, still his — makes his stomach flip.

“God, look at you,” he breathes, his fingers tracing the edge of the visor as he grips the helmet gently. “Obedient little thing.”

She doesn’t speak — can’t, really — just watches him through the darkened shield, completely at his mercy.

Lando’s breathing stutters as he pumps himself faster, the tension coiling tight in his core. “Gonna make a mess of you, yeah?” he asks, mostly rhetorically. “Right there on my—”

He barely manages a breath before the orgasm crashes into him, blinding and all-consuming. His grip tightens, a sharp groan breaking free as heat pulses through him, spilling in thick streaks across the dark visor. Each of his breath is shaky, his mind fogged with pleasure and a sudden possessiveness.

She stays still, letting him ruin the helmet just like he ruined her, and the sight leaves him dizzy.

His fingers twitch as he pushes sweat-damp curls from his forehead, exhaling a laugh, wrecked and breathless. The sound of it fills the space, mixing with the muffled hum of voices just beyond the walls. But all Lando can hear is the quiet, pleased sigh that leaves her lips, her fingers scratching against her thighs, as if she wants to touch him, as if she wants to taste him.

His stomach clenches at the thought, the aftershocks leaving him lightheaded, wrecked in a way he’s never felt before. He exhales sharply, looking down at her, at his helmet, at what he’s done.

Then, Lando’s fingers are flexing against her head before he finally loosens his grip, running a slow thumb over the mess he’s made.

“Hell,” he pants, still catching his breath. Then, softer, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Might have to fuck you like this more often.”

She exhales a quiet, amused breath, tilting her head slightly. “Guess that means I’m actually keeping it.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

shameless

minors. dni.

your roommate, biker!JASON TODD, still hasn’t taken his helmet off.

readers can expect: a helmet wearing jason todd x fem!reader in an undefined relationship. reader in a dress and makeup. use of nicknames like “baby” and “sunshine.” implied consent but not explicitly stated. thigh riding and some dirty talk. minor, minor amounts of fingering.

he’d just gotten home from a ride, the same time you’d gotten back from shopping. you always did the same thing after, so he’d settled himself into a chair to give you and your new clothes an audience. but the mirrored panel he’s watching you through doesn’t give you the same privilege.

you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if he likes the clothes or not.

he’s been silent the whole time, too. if you didn’t know him better, you’d worry he was mad at you. but you know him well. sometimes you think better than he knows himself. jason just doesn’t talk if he feels like he doesn't need to..or if he’s extremely distracted.

he’s leaning back in the chair, his arms crossed. the motion is making his forearms bulge. the fabric of his flannel straining, already rolled up to his elbows.

your brain is light and fluttery at the idea of his arms holding you close. his hips meeting yours with each thrust. his helmet on.

you’re itching for him to touch you. itching.

you twirl in the new black dress you got, hoping to catch a reaction of some sort.

he tightens his grip on his bicep. shifts in his seat, spreading his legs wider. the fabric around his crotch is definitely more taut than it was when you started.

but he says nothing.

you practically gulp, turning around to go put on the last thing you got.

you come back out in a new red dress. the ruching up the sides pulls the fabric tight against your skin. it ends mid thigh, but you might’ve hiked it up a little higher. might’ve reapplied your lipstick before coming back out. tousled your hair a little bit. who’s to say?

you come a little closer this time, spinning again. you stop, propping a hand onto your hip.

“what do you think?” you turn to the side.

his head tilts. he says nothing.

“okay, well, this was the last thing.” you turn, starting down the hallway.

jason mumbles, the words lost into his helmet. you stop in your tracks. spin back around.

“hm?” you step closer. “did you say something?”

the bulge in jason’s pants is too obvious to ignore now. he shakes his head, beckoning to you, patting his leg.

you have to hold yourself back from practically running to him.

you sit yourself down on a thigh, his hand immediately finding the curve of your ass. electricity runs up your spine. his other hand settles on your upper thigh, slowly inching closer to the junction of your legs. warmth unfurls in your belly at the sensation of the leather of his glove on your bare skin. you lean in, throwing your arms around his neck.

still nothing.

you’re looking at yourself in the mirror covering his eyes. it irks you. you want to see his eyes, the dark slashes of his eyebrows. the corner of your mouth rises as you bring your face in, and plant a lipsticked kiss on the plastic of his visor. jason pinches your waist. his cock twitches behind the thick fabric of his pants. he’s grateful he has his helmet on. it’s hiding his rapidly reddening cheeks.

he recovers, flipping up his tagged visor. just to make a show of rolling his eyes at you. his grip on your thigh tightens as you study the sliver of his face he’s letting you see. a tuft of hair covers his forehead, his telltale white streak cutting through the darker hair, into his right eyebrow.

he looks at you through half-lidded, deep blue eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

you smile at him, batting your lashes. the itch grows stronger.

he rolls his eyes, again.

“feelin’ feisty today, huh, sunshine?”

you nod, humming in agreement. jason tightens his arms around you, bringing you closer. his eyes narrow, the look in them making the heartbeat between your thighs pound harder. you squeeze your legs together. jason glances down, then scoffs, shaking his head.

“you’re shameless.” he decides.

you nod again, blushing a little as you concede.

he adjusts you, grabbing at the fabric around your hips, pulling it up until it’s bunched around your waist. he pauses when he sees the lace of your underwear covering your sex, his own heart pounding in his ears. he fights the urge to clear his throat, a nervous tic he has that you’d pick up on immediately. he can’t fuck this up. he’s been desperate to touch you since the last time you let him, done nothing but think about the pretty little sounds you’d made. he’s gotta play this just right.

“were these really necessary?” he hooks a finger on the waistband, raising his eyebrow. a giggle bubbles out of your throat as you stand up.

“..my underwear? yeah, i’d say they might be.” it’s your turn to roll your eyes, and you do, before pulling off them off.

jason grabs them from you, wrapping the lacy fabric around his wrist like a bracelet. at your shocked face, he shrugs.

“just for safekeeping, sunshine. i’d say don’t get your panties inna twist about it, but ‘s a little late for that.”

he looks up at you in his helmet, and even though the lower half of his face is covered, you can practically see the cocky smile he’s wearing. you set yourself back onto his leg, straddling his thick thigh. the rough fabric of his riding pants meets the smooth skin of your inner thigh, a wet spot already forming.

“well? show me how bad you want it.” he settles back.

you brace your hands on his shoulders while he folds his own gloved hands on his stomach.

you move your hips, starting a delicious rhythm. the friction makes you moan, feels so good you don’t even realize you’re making a sound. you rock yourself back and forth, back and forth. the movement jostling your tits.

jason’s eyes flicker down, his eyebrows raising. a low groan emanates from his throat. the sound takes you to another level. he reaches up, pulling the front of your dress down. his eyes flare in response, breaking his tense posture to reach up with a gloved hand and palm one.

the worn in leather on the delicate skin of your chest feels like heaven. he pinches a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. the combined stimulation drives you to move your hips faster, gripping your fingers into the sturdy angles of his shoulders.

your hands on him has his cock aching, no doubt leaking pre all over the front of his underwear. he can’t believe what you’re able to do to him without even trying.

“that’s right, baby.” he takes in how your face changes, pleasure so acute it’s unmistakable on your features.

“use me, just like that.”

you pick up the pace just a little, your toes curling as his eyebrows raise and he nods his encouragement. his big hands sink into the flesh of your tits, kneading them as you move.

“that’s right, you’re so close, keep going��”

it builds up, and up, and up, the waves cresting as your thighs clench around his, your back arches, you throw your head back. jason is humming is approval deep in his throat. he swipes your clit a few times with his leather-clad thumb, drawing out your orgasm, making your thighs tremble.

“needed that bad, huh?”

your face grows hot, and you flip his visor down.

he pushes it up again, rolling his eyes at you as the corners of them crinkle with what you can guess is a smile. jason caresses your thigh with his hand as you slump into his chest. your breathing matches his, and he brushes your hair out of your face.

“i like this dress.”

[papayacinnabun]

helmet stays on - cinnabun thoughts 18+

you had only meant it as a joke at first.

“you should keep the helmet on when we fuck.”

that was your first mistake. suggesting such a thing already knowing lando would take it seriously.

now here you were, your legs hoisted over his shoulders as he pounded into you at a furious pace.

you so desperately wanted to kiss him, to touch his face, look into his eyes.

instead, your own sweaty reflection stared back at you in the shiny visor, glinting almost mockingly.

his breaths were muffled, escaping from under the helmet as he thrust into you deeply. it was oddly sexy, being deprived of his face while he pummeled your cervix.

he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours, the cool surface shocking against your hot skin. you were both nearing your releases, movements becoming more rushed and sloppy.

he reassured you in other ways than vocal, rubbing your hip or leaning against your leg on his shoulder, making sure you knew how much he adored you. his strong hands caressed you wherever they could, trailing from your neck to your tits to between your legs.

his fingers moved against your clit, eager to make you cum before he did. you were seeing stars by now, the warmth in your belly threatening to explode.

all you wanted was to whisper in his ear how good he made you feel, how well he was fucking you, but all you could do was scream out his name as your orgasm washed over you.

he thrust into you one last time as his release spilled into you, his groans audible through the barrier of the neon helmet.

a tired smile broke out over your face as he finally pulled off the helmet, hair sticking to his face with sweat, and sporting a matching victorious grin.

finally, he held you up from the small of your back to kiss you deeply, whispering the praises he wished to tell you before.

your fingers instinctively traced the imprints on his cheeks from the helmet that now marked his freckled skin, happy to look into his glittering eyes once again.

a/n - loving the helmet reveal, so obv i had to write something. this pic changed me HIS HANDS‼️‼️

masterlist

[foreveradreamaway]

helmets and hats- MV33/1

summary- the stress his father put on him never left his head, and neither does his helmet. only until you turn up with his lucky cap.

yes i know max won 2021, this is for the plot don’t come for me

Abu Dhabi 2021. the ride or die race for max and lewis. both of them just one race away from being the world champion. this was one of the biggest races of maxs life. this was what he had been waiting for his whole life. everything his father had put him through was for this. he could not mess this up.

but he did.

you stood in the room with all the engineers and important people who help to ensure maxs car runs perfectly throughout the entire race. you knew how much pressure max had been putting on himself in the weeks leading up to the race. spending 10 times more time at the race simulator and even more time working his body tirelessly to make sure it was race ready. you had watched hopelessly when he would do this many times before and knew this was just how he works. no protest from you will stop him, only make him work harder. he will come to you whenever he needs that little bit of comfort and reassurance, or even just a quick kiss to keep him motivated.

it was your favourite thing. knowing that he still needed you. he could be so deep in his own mind and would still seek you out. only you. he relied on you. for some things more than others, but he still did and you both knew it. he didn't always admit it, or want to, but you both knew. you were his main source of comfort and he couldn't go a day without it. he needed you in every sense of the word. he needed your love, he needed you there to remind him to pack enough socks when he goes away, he needed you to look after him when he was ill and most importantly he needed you there for the losses.

your heart drops when they cross the finish line, further than its ever dropped before. he wanted this so bad, needed it even. he had never lost a race this big before. but you were prepared, you would do the exact same as you did every other loss.

your feet carry you over to the intern whos specific job was to hold maxs hat. it was a very important hat and needed a whole person for it. you had had many interactions with the intern, retrieving his hat every time he lost. she gave you a knowing smile as you took the hat from her hands and went to meet max at you're usual spot.

he doesn't look at anyone as he exits the car and storms off. he physically cant. he doesn't even remove his helmet as he walks over to you, something you were already prepared for. his head is hung low as he approaches you, your hand immediately finding his shoulder. his feet stop in place, keeping his head down. the visor of his helmet was still all the way down so you couldn't make out the expression on his face.

he doesn't say anything as he places his hand softly over yours that sits on his shoulder. you knew not to push him at a time like this, letting him take your comfort when he needs. you stayed like that until you felt a sob rake his body. immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms stayed at his side as you just held him. it wasn't often that he cried, but when he did, he did.

you weren't sure how long you stood there until his hands found your hips. you took this as your sign to move both your hands to his shoulders, finally speaking the words on your mind.

"you did so good baby" your hands moved to the sides of his helmet, attempting to lift it over his head but his hands quickly grabbed yours and brought them down in between the two of you. your face scrunching in compassion. lots of people knew what his father was like when max was younger, you more than most. the constant badgering and abuse never left his head, sticking with him throughout his life. as much as you comforted him and told him how proud you were of him, he always did the same thing after his losses. refusing to take his helmet off.

instead, you move to lift his visor up, catching a quick glimpse of his tear stained cheeks. you didn't see them for long before he quickly swiped it back down to cover his face again. your hand, once again, went back to swipe it up. his hand repeating his previous actions. smiles appeared on both your faces as you both kept up the act. his hand returning to yours when he heard a giggle escape your lips, allowing the visor to stay up. your laugh was his drug.

your head tilted to the side when you finally got to look at him. his cheeks slightly squished from the sides of his helmet and those slightly red eyes staring back at you, full of emotion.

"let me take your helmet off max" you whispered. his eyes shut as he shook his head, dropping it down again. you rested you forehead against the helmet in front of you. hands still gripping each others.

"you're safe baby, ive got you. its just me and you here." his head still didn't rise until you pressed a kiss to the top of his helmet. "im sorry" he croaked. your arms wrapped back around his neck to provide the comfort he desperately needed in that moment. the front of his helmet rested on your shoulder causing your head to tilt to the side, when it did you caught a glimpse of his oh so special hat.

you let go of one of maxs hands and leaned slightly to be able to grab the hat. as you did max slowly lifted his head up to see what you were doing and caught you with the hat in hand. a small smile appeared on his face when he noticed. it was always the small things that he loved about you. the fact that you noticed all the little things that comforted him made him feel so seen and loved in a way that he never had before.

you made eye contact with max and he gave you a small nod, approval to remove his helmet. your hands reached up to the sides of his head and slowly lifted it off. you placed it on the table where the hat had previously sat and moved back in front of max. one hand going to the back of his neck to carefully remove his under layer. you had never seen his face look sadder.

he closed his eyes and moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. this time you could feel the tears that were coming from his eyes. your heart breaking even more with every tear that fell.

"im so proud of you max" you whispered gently in his ear.

"i did so bad, schatje baby" his voice could barely be heard as he just felt too weak from everything. his body was filled with emotions that he didn't even know existed. the disappointment he felt was sickening and he didn't quite know how to deal with these feelings. the only thing he could do was cry in your arms.

"no way you didn't, you drove so well my love. that race was yours, it was a split second thing. there was nothing more you could have done. ive never been more proud of you than i am now max, everyone is so proud of you" you always tried your hardest to comfort him after a loss but he was stubborn and rarely actually took in what you said.

"not my dad" his voice was low, as if he didn't even want you to hear what he said. but you did. his father always loomed in the back of his mind no matter what he was doing. his fathers voice booming through his brain.

"he isn't here, no one else matters but me and you right now. im proud of you and thats all that matters. you've given this season your all, trust me i would know" a soft smile fell on your lips, max couldn't help but stare at your mouth as you talked. "you've spent countless hours in that bloody gym at home and did everything you could to make sure the best max was out on them tracks this season. i promise you max so many people will believe that you won this race and are standing behind you" his face had seemed to calm down a little now. his eyebrows no longer scrunched and his frown was slowly become flat.

his eye fell to the hat that was in your hand, your eyes doing the same. your smile got bigger as you knew what he wanted. you quickly secured the hat on its rightful place on maxs head. hats had slowly become a comfort for max. you would hardly ever see him without one, especially on race weekends. it became a shield between him and the scary eyes of the world. all he needed to do was tilt his head slightly down and he was alone and away from the chaos.

he quickly secured his lips to yours as his hands found the sides of your neck. your hands grabbing his wrists. he needed one final reassurance from you before he had to face the horrible questions of the media.

"go do what you need to do baby, call me and ill come find you. remember, im so proud of you." you placed a final kiss to his nose and cheek before he grabbed his helmet and began to make his way out the room. "you'll always be my champion max verstappen" you winked before he disappeared out the room.

he was a champion, he didnt need a trophy to prove it.

i hope you enjoyed my first max fic, many more to come. please send me requests i love hearing them

[tojisun]

im going feral at the idea of biker!simon visiting you at work to bring you a little care package when you sent him a quick message, saying how tired you are :(

"hey, sunshine?" rosie asks as she stops by your desk. "someone's here askin' for you."

you would've jolted in panic at the unexpected summoning but rosie is cheekily grinning at you, her dimpled smile making her look a whole lot brighter, her exhaustion for the day easing off just a bit.

it makes you smile back.

"oh?" you say, standing up from your desk and following her towards the breakroom. "is it my prince charming?"

"i'd love to think so." you didn't expect the familiar drawl of simon's voice and you startle, whipping to face him, your eyes wide in surprise as a gasp punches itself from your lungs.

rosie slips from your mind altogether.

"hey, baby," simon greets when you remained unmoving, too stunned to know how to act. rosie giggles from behind you before hearing the familiar patter of her feet as she leaves, giving the two of you space.

"why're you here?" you finally get to respond, holding onto your excitement as you rove your eyes over your lover, cataloguing the box held in one of his hands and his helmet in the other. he must've driven here directly from the shop.

"you said you weren't feeling too good so i'm here to drop off some goodies." he shrugs as he closes the distance between the two of you before presenting you the box. you take it with trembling hands. "it ain't much but i hope it's enough to last you 'till later in the afternoon, and i promise: we'll do all that you want, yeah?"

he reaches forward to brush your hair away from your face, huffing a fond smile when he catches the way you sniffle. you're still not used to being spoiled and simon adores your shy reactions – eyes ducking away to hide from his, your teeth trapping your bottom lip to nibble on. he hopes one day you will shake away the shyness and start demanding from him. start being confident in what it is that you want.

(you can even ask simon for the stars and he won't find it unreasonable; he will claw his way into the heavens and pluck them out for you. sometimes it terrifies him how you make him feel a love so strong, it triumphs over anything and everything. but often times, simon basks in it. basks in the way his love for you overflows until it creates a crashing tide, ready to sweep him away.)

"thank you," you whisper as you slot yourself in his arms, hiding your face on his chest, breathing in the leather. you sigh wistfully when you feel him pat your head, reassuring. caring. loving.

simon kisses the top of your head. "it's no problem at all, love." he smiles down at you when you pull back just enough to stand on your tiptoes and peck him on his lips. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

you nod, falling back into his arms.

("jesus, sunshine. that is one big boy," rosie says as the two of you watch simon walk out of the office, his unmistakable bulk stark against all the exhausted office workers ambling about.

you giggle. "yeah. my big boy.")

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Fluffy Headcanons 🩶 | Hemut Zemo

Marvel Masterlist

Being in a relationship with Zemo would look like:

The man spoils you, to the point it's kinda suffocating. Considering this man is rich you can expect extravagant gifts on birthdays, anniversaries, and whenever he sees something and thinks of you. It doesn't have to be an occasion for Zemo to spend his bottomless pit of coin on you. 

Date night involving a dinner doesn't exactly mean you guys have to go out. This man can cook. He'll present you with the most gourmet meal you've ever seen, paired with a wine likely the cost of your life insurance plan, with candles lit and music flowing from the record player. "You've out done yourself once again, Helmut. It seems like I'm saying that every time we have dinner." "Well, darling, I only ensure the best for my love."

Zemo has several homes throughout the damn planet, so if you're ever feeling a change of scenery all you have to do is pick where you want to go. Paris, England, Rio, Sydney, Moscow, Los Angeles, Morocco, etc. You name it, Zemo has property there. You'll stay for weeks, maybe months, and sometimes if you like one more than the others, you'll live there for a few years and then move when the time feels right.....or when Zemo breaks the law again and now, you're on the run. 

You're the type of couple people stop and stare at. Zemo wouldn't consider himself a fashionista, but he likes to dress nice for any occasion--even grocery shopping--and that rubbed off on you. Often you'll be walking down the street and notice in your peripheral vision people pointing you out to their friends and admiring you guys from afar. "People are staring again." "Of course they are. They cannot believe they are seeing a living God/Goddess among them." 

If you have animals, it'll probably be a cat. Zemo gives off cat energy more so than dog and he'd be the type of cat person who says he dislike cats but then falls in love with one and it changes his perspective. How came to have cat likely was you feeding the neighborhood stray and taking it in, ignoring Zemo's refusal but then you catch him putting tuna on a plate and bringing home flea medicine.

Your house is covered in artwork because Zemo is a collector. There's not a single wall that is not straight out of a museum. Monet's, Picasso's, etc. Paintings and sculptures. If you ever wanted to make an exhibit in your house and have people pay to see it, you could for sure do it. 

When you have movie nights, it's basically you two analyzing every single detail and having a full-on discussion rather than watching the film. Especially if it's movies you've already seen and are rewatching. Zemo can't shut up, and you shove popcorn in your mouth while he vents about how stupid the main character was or how plot lacked consistency. If Zemo really liked a film, he'll actually shut up because he doesn't have anything to say. 

His love languages are acts of service and quality time. And you can add gifts into the mix because he loves to give you gifts. 

You two play chess a lot--It's one of the ways you have quality time together. Zemo is a master at chess and while you were weak in the beginning you quickly became a master yourself and now you two have matches lasting hours. 

Zemo has a photo album dedicated to you of all your dates and trips or special moments you shared. All taken on a film camera because while he does have hundreds of pictures of you on his phone, there's something personal and intimidate in capturing the beauty of you on film. 

You have matching jewelry you both wear and hardly ever take off. If you're married, of course you have the rings but even then, you both have matching bracelets or necklaces. It's probably got your names or initials engraved or has your birthstones. 

[dawn-moths]

Thinking about Dabi and his motorcycle, how he pulls up beside you one day when you’re at a cross walk, both of you waiting for the light to turn green. He revs his engine once, twice, the growl of the machinery taunting you to just glance his way. Finally, you give in, swiveling your gaze towards the figure in the glossy black helmet, catching your reflection in its spotless shine. He flips up the eye shield, gives you a wink, and you feel your cheeks heat. But you’re unable to look away. Those sapphire blues have you paralyzed, like a thing in nature that warns of danger, all at once beautifully entrancing and terrifyingly electric. You feel like you’ve met somewhere before, even if just in brief passing, but you don’t have much time to ruminate on the memory. Because the light turns green and then he’s revving the engine again, flipping the eye shield back down, and speeding off to disappear around the next concrete turn. But it’s ok. Now that he’s seen you, he’ll be sure to track you down again. And next time, maybe he’ll be able to convince you to let him take you for a ride.

[beastyeastfreak]

PLEASE SILENT SALT HEADCANONS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS, LITERALLY ANYTHING SMUT YANDERE FLUFF IDC..

YEAAAAAAH

im doing something short because im busy with my j*b and lowkey demotivated #savemefromhell

The first half will be regular headcanons and the second will be nsfw

Cw and tags: Romantic, silent salt has a cool horse, theyre kinda a typical knight, nsfw, souljam play, clothed sex, GN! Reader, both reader and ssc have ambiguous genitalia

Written before the silent salt update, purely speculative, watch all of this become inaccurate once theyre out

Normal headcanons

🗡️ - Silent salt is a being of solitude, after whatever occured which caused them to become a beast they became the furthest from the group. They inwardly dislike their fellow beasts, the second they see fit to not be around them, they will take the first chance to leave. Their land is as quiet as they are, it echoes with focus and loneliness. Whenever you arrive, witnessing a land dark and barren, you are loud. It doesn’t matter if you are quiet as a mouse, you are loud.

🗡️ - However you manage to even get Silent Salt to willingly stay in your presence is a mystery. Though trying to get them to save you in order to get closer is fruitless, one a light of Solidarity they now would rather be a bystander or the cause of the issue. So what would attract silent salt? A common goal, a similar attitude, or battle prowess that can withstand their own. Despite now disliking the thought of standing as one unit, if you can prove them wrong and stand with them or help them in some way, they may just try to find out more about you.

🗡️ - Their other interests may include, strangely enough, music. Just because it’s a land of silence doesn’t mean you cant listen to a good playlist sometimes. If you want to do be around them, go on a patrol with them. They wont talk but they love to hear you speak while you both ride on their horse together. It gives them the opportunity to be close with you without seeming like theyre returning to their ways.

🗡️ - I think theres no cookie beneath that armor in the sense they lost their ability to connect with others. Whether that represents physically and there is no true cookie body beneath the metal and just a living suit of armor or there is one, they dont want to be seen. Being seen allows another to see themselves in them, to connect, to feel for them. They want to be seen as a machine, unfeeling and cold. But when they hold you and place their helm against you, you feel the warmth, you know a soul remains just deep within.

🗡️ - They definitely try to kiss you, emphasizing try. They either forget they have a helmet on and get caught up in the moment or simply cannot remove the helmet/their head is the helmet and you have to kiss that. Either way, kissing them earns their heart quickly because it shows you don’t mind it and still see them for them. They make up for not being able to do things like that with gifts. Anything from roses from the garden of delights to foods from the farthest kingdom, they will get for you.

Nsfw headcanons below

🗡️ - BOTTOM next question. After years of isolation they would prefer you take the lead, also i doubt they got around much even before they turned. That being said they are very pent up but are always quietly handling it, so when you come around its a huge change to them. They don’t say anything, but you know when they’re ready, they make it pretty clear through body language. This isn’t to say they wont take control, they’re strong and they’d want to use that strength in bed at least once.

🗡️ - Whatever genitalia they have, i dont think matters. If you believe in the ‘just a living suit of armor’ theory like me your next bet is the souljam. They’ll invite you onto their lap after a drawn out fight, slumped slightly. Under the guise of taking care of them, you run your hands over them while whispering lovely little words against their helmet. They flinch as you run over their souljam located around their mid chest with plates of armor molded around it. What sounds like a night breeze wafting through a creaky metal roof is the only way to describe the noise made, their back arching towards you.

🗡️ - While you caress and press along the crystal in repeating motions their souljam, their hands will explore along you, maybe accidentally ripping your clothes a bit but eventually reaching into groping. They’ll enjoy it if you talk them through it, but if they’re in control they’ll try to keep you quiet. Fingers grabbing against your sex while they stand from behind, edging when they feel like it. Their other hand, still armored, rests on your mouth to keep you shut up. Especially funner if you’re in a place with thin walls or where someone could hear.

[cat-castors]

I've talked about Jason's little sliver of skin in his RHATO Red Hood suit but honestly I could write an essay about it

Like maybe, you're a vigilante too, maybe your favorite thing is bothering him, maybe your only contact with Red Hood had always been behind masks and gloves, touching each other but not directly, you know? But the stolen moments are there, grabbing his arm to run away together, or even when you grabbed the back of his neck, gloved hands brushing against the underside of his hair that's not covered by his helmet to deliver a knee kick to his stomach (fighting is just an excuse to be close to him) and you notice he does the same; Sure technically he could move you by other means but why would he when he can grab you by the waist and lift you like you weigh nothing to him? (nevermind how big you are, Jason is just strong, I mean have you seen him?)

(Plus, I'm a big boy bod Jason truther, that man is a tank and he's large.)

Maybe one day, Red Hood isn't just Red Hood, maybe he's just Jason. Maybe he's just your Jason, and you've been eyeing that bit of his bare skin for ages. (it's not that you'd ever wondered how he looked without the suit, no way.)

And while it is a nice daydream the reality is so much better, seeing him so unguarded, so relaxed for once.

the skin to skin contact, the slight hitch of his breath and the goosebumps that prickle his skin, the way his eyes dilate, you can't help but imagine how it'd be like to kiss him if this is how he reacts to hand holding.

[trashytracktales]

Ok but imagine lando fucking YOU WITH HIS HELMET ON (yes i am a freak and proud)

That one-shot is now available 🤞🏻😌

In this case scenario, however, he’s got the visor up at first, watching you with those blown-out eyes, breathing heavy inside the helmet as he thrusts into you. But the second he slams it down, uh oh... 👀

Without being able to see his facial expressions anymore, you’ll inevitably switch your focus on feeling him, the weight of his body, the way he grips you like he’s got something to prove, and hearing the muffled groans coming through the helmet like some kind of sinful, distorted audio. He’s completely in control, railing you like he’s trying to set a new fastest lap & all you can do. Is. Simply. Take it. SEND HELP 🤤🥲

[jalicecookie]

Helmet & Carrots

Your 19-year-old father is looking for his motorcycle helmet...but you converted it into a bed for your stuffed animal bunny. Seojun Han isn't happy about it - especially , when he realizes that you've hidden a few carrots in your helmet - for your stuffed animal. (Pre-Season 1)

Carefully, with all the dexterity that an almost 3-year-old child has, you place the pink Disney princess scarf , into the open helmet.

It wasn't just any helmet...not a helmet to dress up in, oh no actually you weren't allowed to go near the things...which according to your Appa were - off limits.

This included scissors when an adult wasn't nearby...you were especially not allowed to go to the stove (after you played with the on-off switches months ago and almost melted a pot) - aaaand actually your father's motorcycle helmet - Seojun Han - wasn't intended for you either.

But your father was in the study/living room and had to do something for school registration soon.

So you can't even ask if he would say yes...because your stuffed bunny urgently needs a new bed...and Appa's motorcycle helmet is perfect for it.

You could have asked your aunt - Gowoon Han...but it was much funnier that way.

Plus, your stuffed bunny was already tired and would be happy about this new bed!

The stuffed animal sat next to you on the floor of Seojun's room and watched you with big, faithful eyes as you first got the motorcycle helmet from one of the cupboards (you had to climb onto a chair and it was totally wobbly, but you didn't fall off or hurt yourself!) - and then the stuffed animal listened exactly to you as you prepared the new bed for him with the beautiful princess scarf... the stuffed bunny was a patient listener... you really liked him gladly.

Your grandmother gave it to you when you came to the family when you were just under 1 year old, your mother had simply left you in front of the apartment door like an unwanted package with a small suitcase... you can't fully understand the extent of it, but you quickly grew to love your father... as did your aunt and your grandmother, who unfortunately you almost always have to visit in the hospital... she is very sick.

But the little money she has was spent on the stuffed bunny...and you're really taking good care of that! You hardly go anywhere without him. That's why he needs a new bed.

"Bunny, wait...get a surprise," you whisper mysteriously and give the stuffed animal a kiss on the right ear before sneaking out of your father's room into the kitchen.....the dim light from the lamp is just enough for you to open the bottom drawer under the fridge and take out a few carrots (you don't want your bunny to go hungry in his new bed!)

A few minutes later you put the carrots in the helmet next to the bunny and are proud of the great new bed for your stuffed animal. And you're really happy that a little later there's dinner and your aunt has made your favorite dessert....but your father still seems to be busy with the preparations and organizational things for school even during dinner.

„Has anyone seen my motorcycle helmet?“

You let your Auntie spoonfed you the rest of the Dinner and shook your head no. Not that appa would take away bunnys new bed! But as the darked hair Student announced he will look in his room now you quietly gave your auntie understand you wanted to be put down from the high chair and toddeld after Seojun.

„Appa no no!“

You ran into the room and stood arms wide open in front of your Father.

He on the other hand looked down on you and of course noticed the distinctioned Helmet on his Bed.

„Didnt Appa told you its off Limits?“

As Seojun went to grab the Helmet you instead of running to the Bed, grabbed his right index Finger and tried to stopp him.

„Ssssh! Bunny night night! Appa no wakey wakey!“

Your Father looked down at you and sighed for a moment.

„Cant your Bunny do night night somewhere else?“ he asked back.

„No Helmet new Bed“

„I need my helm, Appa‘s on his way out and driving without one is dangerous“

„Appa no angerus! Appa bestesest Appa!“

„Thats not what i meant i….“

He picked you up and you cuddled closer, patting his hair softly and repeatedly saying that he is no dangerous so he didnt need the motorcycle helmet and bunny can continue night night.

„I still need it for the motorcycle ride Baby! So how about the Bunny continues sleeping in your Crib hm?“

He tickels you and warm laughs filled his bedroom before you agreed and let your Dad reach out for the Helmet to put out first the scarf and than the Disney Princess Scarf.

„Are these Carrots?“

„Snack for Bunny!“

„Great now my Motorcycle Helmet will smell like Carrots. Bring them to your Auntie for her to put them in the Fridge okay?“

„Kay kay appa!“

You were placed on the Floor again and walked with the bunny and scarf in one hand and the carrots in the other hand towards the living room still giggling.

The Smell of Carrots would later that evening as well surprise the young Jugyeong Lim when she bumps into the wanna bee bad boy motorcycle driver!

The END

[machveil]

König Sketch™️! Listened to his voice lines again, him saying “who else is with you >:(” and “now we’re getting started >:)” lives in my heart

[hyuneskkami]

masterlist

💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ TOO SWEET PT. 1 .ᐟ

⤷ leo valdez x fem!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅

ᝰ. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 . . . percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 . . . street racing au

ᝰ. 𝐤𝐞𝐲 . . . y/n: your name | y/l/n: your last name | n/n: nickname

ᝰ. 𝐰𝐜 . . . 946

ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . . y/n and leo are the queen and king of the shinjuku and shibuya street racing circles, respectively. they meet for the first time at the annual tokyo races to see who's better. (ft. best friend!percy fanboying over racer king!leo + an appearance by passenger princess!leo <3)

ᝰ. 𝐚/𝐧 . . . uhtgufshew tokyo + leo + street racing is such a fever dream for me,, and this one, I wrote bc of my love for leo and fast and furious (esp tokyo drift <3) and I totally based y/n's car off han's from td sue me I love him (: so, enjoy! i'll start working on part 2 soon (:

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

'the next station is . . . shinjuku.'

I was busy icing the bruises on my forearm from last night’s race when my best friend barged into the bathroom without knocking.

“HE’S COMING TODAY, N/N!” he screamed, and giggled like a school girl.

“I could’ve been naked, you know,” I muttered, shutting the first-aid box and shoving it into the cabinet under the sink. “who’s coming?”

“ignis-”

“percy, come on, not this again,” I groaned. “you’ve been fanboying about him for the past 48 hours, and I really just want to sleep. and besides, I really don’t see what the big deal about this guy is.”

“uh, hello? he’s the king of the shibuya street races!” percy exclaimed, following me as I walk out, and flop onto my bed. he stops at the foot of it.

“and the people have crowned me the queen of shinjuku’s. so what?” I asked.

‘ignis’, as the others call him, is someone called leo valdez. and apparently, he’s a pretty good racer.

“look,” I continued, interrupting percy before he started fanboying again, with hearts in his eyes or whatever. “if he’s that good, he can come and beat me at the annual tokyo races.” I declared.

“oh yeah, he probably will,” percy commented. I flung my pillow at his head, and smirked when I found I didn’t miss. “OW!”

“whatever. tell me more about him. what’s he like?”

it was almost as if I asked him to marry leo. and this time, he really did have hearts in his eyes, I fear.

“okay, so supposedly, he builds his own car, like you, and started racing at 17! isn’t that cool? I mean, you did too, but still. it’s cooler when he does it. anyway, he’s locally the undefeated champion of street racing, and oh my god, he drives a 1966 ford gt40, it’s so cool-”

“okayyy, i’ve heard enough. I guess it is going to be fun meeting him at the car meet for the races.” I smirked. “let’s battle it out on the roads, ignis.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

✮⋆˙ leo’s pov

'the next station is . . . shibuya.'

“jace, how much farther is the hotel?” I asked, knocking my legs onto the dashboard, and crossing them at my ankles. simultaneously, I pulled down my sunglasses.

“relax, passenger princess, just a few more minutes and we’ll be there.” he replied.

jason glanced at piper in the mirror and smiled.

I would never admit it, of course, but it was terrible being so good at one thing and horribly bad at another. honestly, who would ever believe that the king, ignis, had never been in an actual relationship? the one-night stands didn’t count, obviously. I’d never felt anything close to… love.

pondering my status of being single, I fell asleep in jason’s car.

“dude, bro, homie, my man, whatever, WAKE UP, WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE-”

“did you… did you carry me into bed, jason grace?” I opened one eye and grinned at him lazily.

“you were sound asleep, even worse than a log. I tried kicking you awake, but it didn’t work, so I had to pick you up, ufortunately.”

“aww, don’t sound so happy.”

“shut up. if you don’t get ready to get to the car meet, we don’t get a ticket to race for the entire next month,” he said.

“what- OH, I forgot about that. one ticket’s enough for all 23 races, right?”

“yeah, i’ll explain the details to you in the car, go get ready, dumbass.”

I grinned. “jason grace is cursing, the world is healing-” a pillow hit my face. “i’m going.”

timeskip

“okay, the serious ones you need to look out for are python, shooting star, and tsunami.”

“shooting star?” I choked on my water. “what-”

“weird name, huh?” a girl chuckled behind me, and I whipped around.

“oh no no no no, i’m sorry- are you shooting star? uh, shit, I apologi-”

“nah, but it was funny seeing you get so flustered, valdez.” she smirked.

“do we… know each other?” I asked, confused. her smirk widened.

“not yet, but real soon,” she said, her smirk never faltering and confidence never wavering. she turned and began walking away, and I stood there, mouth open.

“she’s pretty, but she’s also tsunami,” piper commented. oh.

“who said she’s pretty? I didn’t. did you? I don’t know,” I rambled. whatever. “she’s my competition. she’s just in the way of me and my golden trophy.”

“there’s no trophy, dumbass.” jason reminded me.

“a 700$ cash price is equivalent to a trophy, man,” I corrected him.

“ok, well, listen up. she’s called tsunami for a reason. she’s vicious, takes everyone by surprise at every race, and is the queen of shinjuku’s street racing. and most importantly? she’s never lost a single race.” piper explained. I took in every bit of that info, and filed into a part of my brain labelled ‘dangerous and pretty competition, stay away’.

“what’s her ride, then?” I asked, a little curious.

“1997 mazda rx-7 veilside fortune.”

“damn,” I whistled. before I could find out more about her, the announcer on the stage started talking.

“welcome, racers and audience! today is day 1 of the annual tokyo races! here’s a quick rundown about it, in case you haven’t a clue: starting today, there will be 23 races for 23 days, each race held in a special ward of tokyo. we start here, at shinjuku, and end the 23rd race at shibuya!”

everyone cheered and whistled at the mention of shinjuku and shibuya, the two hubs of tokyo’s street racing.

starting at tsunami’s turf, and ending in mine, huh? this was going to be fun.

tags! — @sunnitheapollokid @puffoz

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[velvetcloxds]

MONIQUE!! LET’S CONTINUE THE BAD BOY!DEREK ERA

I'M LOST- him telling you he loves you for the first time (when you never expected him to even say it)

Derek wasn't sure if the happy smile on your face was because of him or because of the brown paper bag and ice cream cup in his hand but he was happy seeing it either way. When you'd called to cancel your dinner date because of your period you didn't know how he'd take it, which was silly to be fair because he'd been nothing but a perfect gentleman, taking every chance to remind you how grateful he was that you'd given him a chance. You were just grateful to see this side of him, you'd seen good behind that tough shell and it was so exciting seeing the good taking over.

"Baby," you crooned, making grabby hands in his direction, not doing much to ease his confusion but he quickened his pace still, didn't want to keep you waiting. "You came all the way here," you pouted and when you took his face in your hands instead of the ice cream his insides went wild. You kissed his lips quickly and when you took note of the Oreo McFlurry in his right hand you kissed the tip of his nose as well, tightening your hold around his cheeks. "And you brought me snacks too, you're the best."

"Hardly," he argued and he wouldn't dare be embarrassed by the way his cheeks tinted red and heated up right under your touch, stealing a kiss of his own before you let go of him, careful when he placed everything on the bed next to you, even more careful when you pulled him down to sit in front of you, eyes all dreamy to perfectly match yours. "I also put some pain meds in the bag, the lady at the drugstore said it works for periods but I got a backup just in case, called your friend Lydia and she told me what worked for her so I got that just to be safe," you were already two bites into your McFlurry so you couldn't reply immediately so you hoped reaching out to take his hand was enough to begin with.

"You didn't need to do all of that, Der, I just called so you wouldn't worry," his hand around yours felt like heaven, comfort you craved for more than you realized, you were torn between finishing the food he brought you and taking a nap in his arms- you wished there was a way to do both. "Thank you," you added, he was being so sweet, you wanted him to know how much it meant to you. "No one has ever done something like this to me."

"Well, that just means no one has loved you as much as I love you," he said it so casually, like a thought he'd had before had somehow made its way out, but he didn't even react to it, didn't even notice, just stole one of your fries and offered closed mouth smile while he brushed a cookie crumb from your chin.

"I think you're right," you admitted and offered him a spoon scooped high, and when you leaned forward to dip it into his mouth your heart soared. "In fact, I think that I love you just enough to share the rest of my cup with you," you hoped it sounded as casual from your lips as it did from his.

[sw5w]

Liam, the Shades

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:36:53