#excited and nervous... but above all.

[transgaysex]

guys tomorrow is my last day of my first year of 3d animation . im sooooo tired but really excited and nervous

[lilybug-02]

Eimmet High...temmiE high. OMG!

Part 28 || First || Previous || Next...(Hiatus)

--Full Series--

Next update may take...much longer! I have finals and an internship and not to mention I have to draw- A LOT :')

[dashingwishes]

I have an interview tomorrow please wish me luck I don’t wanna mess this up 🥹💔

[heyitslapis]

vent

[nanaslutt]

the best teacher

ʚ synopsis: Nanami finds out you've never had an orgasm and he's determiend to show you exactly how to do it

ʚ pairing: Kento Nanami x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, established relationship, inexperienced reader, he talks you through it, fingering, clit play, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, masturbation, protected sex, prone bone, rough sex, big dick Nanami, fluff

ʚ note: congrats @l0rdgeosupport3rr on winning my spur of the moment fic giveaway, i hope u enjoy <3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI (18+)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Are you nervous?" Nanami asked, his deep voice right against your ear seeping into your head and making your brain turn to mush. His hands dragging from your thighs to caressing your torso was quite distracting as he sat behind you, your back against his hard chest. You could feel his excitement poking you in your lower back, making you wonder how much he was holding back right now.

You had confessed to your boyfriend Nanami when a makeout session got a little hot and heavy, that you had actually never touched yourself. Well, not successfully anyway. It took everything in you not to cower away when he sat you down in front of him and made you explain exactly what you were having trouble with. You confessed you wanted to take things further with him, but you were nervous. Every time you touched yourself, you would bring yourself right up to the edge, but you could never manage to push yourself over the ledge and feel that bliss everyone always talked about. 

Nanami, the ever-loving boyfriend he was, generously offered to help you out. Nanami hadn't had many partners before you, but he did read romantic and erotic books in his free time and maybe went a little above and beyond in biology class when the topic of discussion was women's bodies. Kento never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable with his actions if he were ever to be intimate with someone, so he studied like hell to make sure that never happened. 

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart. I'm gonna walk you through it okay? Just leave everything to me, all you gotta do is relax and pay attention." Nanami whispered against your ear, his reassuring words making your body relax and melt against his. "Good girl." He praised when he felt your shoulders go slack against him. Nanami continued to rub his hands up and down your soft thighs, one hand caressed your stomach and hips and the other crept up your skin to squeeze your breast through your bra, making you bite back a moan on instinct.

Nanami noticed you holding back your sounds, and dragged his other hand to massage both breasts now, squishing them together and kneading them in his large palms. You rolled your head to the side and tucked your face in Nanami's neck, pressing your thighs together as the stimulation sent jolts of your head to the bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

"You don't have to hold back your voice with me. You can be as loud as you want, just let it out. I know it feels good." Nanami praised, crossing his hands over your chest and sliding his right hand under the cup of your left breast, and his left hand under your right one. Nanami felt his cock twitch when you released little gasps and moans into his neck, your breath tickling his skin. 

He resisted the urge to fuck his hips against your ass, not wanting you to think he was trying to rush you. The older man found your hardened buds under your bra and pinched them softly, rubbing and twirling them with his fingers. Both of your hands shot up to grab his thick wrists for comfort as you squirmed against him, rubbing your thighs together to bring yourself some relief. 

"Does that feel good, honey?" Nanami asked, looking down at you from under his lashes. He couldn't see your face, as you were still hiding it in the crook of his neck, but your noises and the way you nodded rapidly agaisnt him were good enough. "Does your cunt ache?" Nanami asked, licking his lips as he watched you hump against your thighs. "Mhm." You responded, your body jolting and shaking against his as he rubbed your nipples expertly with his large fingers. 

"Good, you should always warm your body up first before you touch yourself. Don't rush, get excited. Wait until you can feel yourself dripping." Nanami instructed, his vulgar words making you want to shy away from him even more. "I need to know you're listening. Do you understand?" He asked, pausing his ministrations until you gave him a proper answer so he knew his teachings would not be in vain. 

"Yes." You whispered against him, making Nanami crack an almost unnoticeable smile at your bashfulness. "I'm gonna rub your pussy over your panties now," Nanami warned you, waiting for a nod of understanding before he pulled one of his hands out from your bra and started dragging it down your body. He flipped his hand and just barely ghosted his fingertips down your body, dragging them down your skin as he made his way to your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Little gasps and choked breaths from you made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to restrain himself. "Part your legs for me, please," Nanami asked sweetly, waiting until your legs were spread before he hooked his legs over yours, making it so that if the stimulation got too much, you couldn't snap your legs on his hand while he got you off. "H-haah.." Your breathing seemed so loud in the now suddenly quiet room and Nanami did the same motion he did down your body, just teasing his fingers over your knees and down to your sensitive inner thighs.

"Kento..." You whined breathlessly, rocking your hips into the air out of impatience. Nanami's resolve faltered for a moment when your ass started grinding back on his cock, giving him the perfect stimulation. His eyes rolled back in his head as he lost himself for a moment, relishing in the pleasure. "You want me to touch your pussy?" He teased, his voice deeper and more aroused sounding than before as his lips tickled over your ear. 

You slightly leaned your head away from him, exposing a bit of your neck and the side of your face to his lips. Kento pressed a featherlight kiss to your ear, making goosebumps raise over your arms before he spread his fingers like a V and teased them around your cunt. He let out a sigh with you, his cock twitching when your hands squeezed his wrist that held your tit tighter.

"Please Ken, I need it." You begged, spreading your legs further to emphasize your words. You couldn't take your eyes off his hand that teased over your pussy, not yet touching you where you needed him the most. Kento massaged your breast in circles, using the fat to calm himself down when he felt a bead of pre-cum leak from his aching dick into his boxers. 

"Is this what you need?" He whispered sensually against the shell of your ear as he pressed his thick middle finger along the center of your pussy, dragging it against your clit, down to your needy hole, which had now soaked your panties with your juices. You let out a gasp and tipped your head back against his shoulder, exposing your neck as your eyes fell shut in bliss. 

"This spot here is important," Nanami spoke between kisses against your throat, his eyes half closed in bliss. He tapped his thick middle finger against your clit, before he pressed down on it and started rubbing it in circles. "Oh fuck-" You gaped, your chest inflating as you sucked a deep breath into your lungs. "You need to touch your clit like this if you want to cum." Nanami instructed, making sure you were nodding after every sentence he spoke.

"Uh-huh, u-u-huh." You moaned, nodding dumbly as you relished in the feeling of Kento touching you through your panties, your greedy hole clenching around nothing at his touch. "How do you touch yourself? You said you have trouble finishing, are you touching your clit like this?" Nanami asked, making your face rush with blood. Your cheeks felt hot as you opened your eyes and looked between your legs. Nanami watched you watch him from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to speak. 

"Y-yeah." You tried to speak, your voice coming out breathier and more stuttered than you thought it would. "It gets really i-intense the closer I get to..." You trailed off, darting your eyes to the side of the room. Nanami raised his eyebrows and rubbed his fingers faster over your clothed clit, his cock throbbing when your voice hitched and your moans raised in volume. "You can say it. It gets intense before you orgasm, right? That's why you can't finish, your body goes rigid, doesn't it?" Nanami said, hitting the nail right on the head. 

You nodded at his words, taking a moment to greedily take air into your lungs when Nanami ceased his rubbing and nonchalantly started sliding his fingers underneath your panties. "Y-yeah, f-fuuuck." You began to speak again when your words were cut short as Nanami started rubbing his bare fingers against your hot, wet clit. It felt ten thousand times better than him teasing you through your panties.

"It feels so much better after teasing yourself right? Your body is worked up and ready for more, it's aching for it. You nodded, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you whined into the room, your moans echoing off the walls. You were unable to stop your hips from jerking into his hand when he started rubbing your clit with two fingers more rapidly.

"I-its you," You gasped, your nails digging into his thick wrist that held your tit. Nanami cocked his head in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. "Y-you, it feels good b-because it's you," Nanami swears at that moment his brain short circuits as he fights every neuron in his body to not send signals to his dick to cream his pants right now. "You really..." Nanami trails off as he slides his hand out from your bra and grabs your neck, tipping your head to look up at him.

His lips collide with yours in a passionate, needy kiss. His lips move quickly, wasting no time before his tongue was mingling with your own, making your already needy pussy throb for more. "Gonna put my fingers in." He moaned between kisses, his eyebrows furrowing when your humping got more needy, and your ass rubbed his cock just right from behind. 

Your lips separated from his own with a gasp as he slid a finger down to your tight, sopping entrance and pressed it in. Both of you moaned in tandem when he slowly slid his finger in till the base of his finger was pressed against your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to put what you learned to use for me sweetheart, can you do that?" Kento asked, releasing the hold he had on your neck, settling just to rest his hand on your throat. You nodded at him, feeling yourself pulse and squeeze around his thick finger that stayed still inside you.

"Go ahead and rub your clit for me, small circles, just like I did." He instructed. You reached your shaky hand into your panties with his own and found your clit which was already wet with your juices from Nanami's previous touches. "Good girl." Nanami praised you as you followed his instructions. The second you started moving, Nanami did do. "A-ahhh-" Moan after moan fell from your lips when Nanami started curling his finger inside you and thrusting at the same time, sending intense shocks all throughout your body.

"This is your g-spot, some people can cum just from touching this spot here, but most of them need clitoral stimulation as well," Nanami said. You did your best to nod along with his words and listen in general, but the stimulation was so intense, it was making your head spin. "Ah ah, keep moving your finger." Kento tsked, slowing down his own when he saw how lazy and slow your fingers got while rubbing against your clit. It wasn't your fault he was making your body go slack. 

"We have plenty of time to figure out if you can cum just from penetration another day." Nanami voices, pressing his soft lips against your cheek in a kiss. "Right now I'm focused on bringing you to orgasm." The way in which Nanami so causally talked about these things made you dizzy. Sex and things of the like were usually taboo and embarrassing to talk about, but not to Nanami, and he was determined to make you feel the same way about it.

"I'm gonna add another finger okay?" Kento asked, slowing down his thrusting inside you. "Yeah, uh-huh." You responded, half listening to his words. Nanami smiled to himself as he watched your eyes fall shut, your finger now rapidly rubbing circles against your clit shamelessly as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Nanami pulled the first finger out and slowly reinserted it with a second one. He spread his fingers a bit as he slid them inside your warm walls, trying to stretch you out so you were able to take something bigger later on.

You winced in discomfort when he scissored his fingers inside you, but that discomfort soon diminished when he curled his fingers against that same spongey spot against your walls, making you see stars behind your eyes. "H-harder, Ken fuck me harder." The man behind you was unable to suppress the groan that slipped between his lips from your shameless words, his hips canting against your ass, rubbing his cock against the inside of his boxers at your shameless words. 

"For a virgin, you're surprisingly needy. You sure you haven't done this before? Did you just want me to baby you?" Kento teased, picking up the pace of his fingers as he spoke. Moan after wonton moan spilled from your lips, your body thrashing and jolting against his as the pleasure from your g-spot and clit combined to form a ball inside your stomach. "N-no, I haven't I- promise." You stuttered out, gasps and whines cutting you off as you got closer and closer to the edge. 

"I'm teasing, sweetheart. You are close though aren't you?" He asked, noticing how your pussy clenched around his fingers more frequently. "You gonna cum for me? Gonna orgasm all over my fingers?" Nanami groaned, the squelching from your sopping cunt going straight to his neglected dick. "F-fuck yes, I- I think so y-yes." You cried, thrashing your head from side to side agaisnt his chest.

Your hand that still held his hand against your throat squeezed tightly. He noticed your fingers slow down on your clit at the same time, a telltale sign that you were close. Nanami had a feeling you needed both clitoral stimulation and penetration to get you to reach your high, and he was determined to make you finish. "Doing so well my love, keep rubbing your clit, you can't stop, okay? I know you can do it, almost there." Nanami's reassuring words helped you focus on putting all your strength into your finger that rubbed back and forth agaisnt your clit.

Suddenly, your chin was being pushed up and Nanami's lips connected with yours in a sloppy kiss once more. Kento groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your pussy constricting his fingers. His wrist started to ache from curling his fingers against your tight walls so repetitively, but he knew if he stopped, you wouldn't cum. Your desperate whines and moans against his lips aided in fueling his tired wrist to continue on and finish you off.

"Kento- I'm- I'm cumming-" You whined high pitched against his lips, your legs shaking as they fought to push against his own that held yours open. It was getting harder and harder to kiss him back as your body went ridged, your mouth opening in a wide O, and your eyes rolling back in your head. "That's it, right there, yeah-" Nanami's own jaw dropped and he watched with awe as your body convulsed with pleasure.

He moaned with you as if he was cumming himself, his body curling forward with yours as you came, your legs shaking and cunt trambling around his fingers. Your own hand had stopped rubbing your clit, just resting against it as you came, no longer having the strength to touch yourself as you orgasm for the first time. Nanami continued curling his fingers against your g-spot until the spasms had stopped and you slapped his wrist with your hand, letting him know it was getting to be too intense. 

"Fuck- fuck-" You gasped, your body stayed curled over yourself as Nanami leaned back, separating his chest from your back. The sound of a zipper followed by rustling, then skin rubbing on skin brought you down from your high completely. When you tried to turn around, Nanami pushed your upper back down again, forcing you to stay bent over like you were. You could hear his heavy breathing and gasps from behind you. You knew exactly what he was doing. 

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on the bed in front of you and spun around, sitting on your knees between Nanami's thighs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you did so well." Nanami praised, looking into your eyes as he stroked himself off. Your eyes trailed down to his thick cock, and you gasped in awe at the size of his cock and how wet and flushed it was. He must've been really holding back. 

Nanami's large hand caressing the side of your face brought your attention back to his eyes, away from the mess that was between his legs. "Don't worry, I'm almost done. Just couldn't take it anymore." Nanami rushed through his words, obviously drunk off your orgasm. Your heart was racing out of your chest. You wanted to help him but you had no idea how to. It seemed unfair for you to get off with his help and not give him the same treatment in return.

A moment of confidence washed over you, and you reached out to grab his wrist, stopping him from touching himself. "Sweetheart really, I'm almost there, it's oka-" "Use my pussy." Your words hit Nanami like a freight train. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He squeezed the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from busting a nut all over himself right then in there from your words alone. 

"What?" Nanami asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. "You can fuck me." You said again, nodding at him. "You... you stretched me out, right? I can take it." Nanami swallowed hard and pulled his lip between his teeth, his head knocking back against the pillows for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He didn't want to pressure you into doing something you weren't ready for, although you seemed to really want it. 

Nanami released his cock and cradled your face with both hands, making you look into his eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked, summiting to the idea surprisingly quickly, you were expecting a little more pushback. "I'm sure." You nodded, placing your hands over his own that held your face. Nanami's cock twitched, bobbing heavily between his legs in the open air, hastily pulled out from his boxers and pants. "Then... please lay flat on the bed with your stomach against the sheets.

Your heart raced as you listened to Nanami rip the condom package open behind you. The pillow he stuffed under your hips before you laid down was putting a nice pressure on your pelvis, making you squirm in anticipation. A large hand pressing into the sheets by your head brought you back to reality. You saw the shadow of Nanami's much larger figure behind yours as he hovered over your body, stroking his cock over your ass.

"Keep your thighs together, you can even cross your ankles over one another, I read that feels good for some women." You felt like cumming already. Nanami's show of intelligence about the female body made you want to scream, but you settled on nodding, wrapping your arms around the pillow under your head for support as you let out a noise of understanding. 

"If it becomes too much or you need to stop at any point, let me know," Nanami instructed, waiting until he heard a verbal answer from you before he readied himself. Nanami took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, reminding himself not to get carried away or be too hard with you. "Okay, relax for me," Nanami instructed. His large hand gripped your thigh to pull your ass to the side so he could get a better view of your pussy from the back as he prepared himself to put it in. 

"Nanami, I can take it. I'm not going to break." You whispered into the pillow, words Nanami made sure not to miss. You closed your eyes when you felt Nanami's chest tickle against your back. A kiss was pressed against your temple, making you shut your eyes as the kiss was lasting. "Thank you, sweetheart. You always take such good care of me." Nanami whispered into your ear as he rubbed his cock agaisnt your hole.

You felt a heat rush over your skin at the feeling of his hard cock touching your cunt. It felt weird, hot, hotter than you imagined. Nanami gripped his cock hard at the base and pressed his fat tip against your hole, thrusting his hips forward against your ass slowly as he inserted his cock inside you. The two of you gasped in tandem when his tip penetrated your walls and his cock split you open.

Nanami watched as your eyes rolled back in your head, your pussy clenching and squeezing mercilessly around him. "Please, r-relax your cunt honey, I can't get inside you if you're like this," Nanami begged, feeling his orgasm build up inside himself already. It had been a while since he last got laid... a long while, he knew he wasn't going to last long, but neither were you, so it would work out perfectly. 

"It's not me- y-you're so big." You whined, trying to relax your cunt around him but it didn't seem to do anything at all. Nanami bit his lip at your words and dropped his chin to look at where the two of you were connected, his cock throbbing against your walls at the sight of your tiny cunt sucking him in perfectly. "Yeah? My cock is big?" Nanami teased, his voice deep and raspy as he fully pressed his hips flush against your ass, smiling to himself when you tried to scoot your body up on the bed, trying to escape how deep he was inside you.

"Y-yeah, fuck-" You whined, crossing your ankles over one another. Your clit was being stimulated between your thighs, bringing you the perfect relief as Kento slowly thrust his cock in and out of you. "Can you feel how deep it is inside you?" He asked, emphasizing his words with a mean, hard thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. The way you were squeezing your thighs together made the stimulation and pleasure on his end ten times more intense, as each time he pulled out, his cock was still being squeezed by your ass and thighs pressed together. 

"'S so deep-" You whined, your eyes rolling back in your head. Nanami's resolve snapped at that moment. You sounded so fucked out and horny, he was unable to stop [ his hips from moving into yours. He quickly found a pace as he thrust his cock inside you, your pussy squelching with every thrust. Each time he fucked his cock inside your walls, it felt like your intestines had to expand to make room for his girth, but it was all rewarded each time he rammed his hard cockhead into your sweet spot so deep inside you.

"Oh god, right there!" You cried, your body jolting when Kento angled his hips in a way that allowed him to slap his cock into the most sensitive part of you with each thrust. Nanami placed his other hand by your head, allowing him more momentum to fuck into you as he was in a steadier position. "Yeah, right here? Is this your sweet spot?" Nanami cooed, feeling his balls throb with the need to fill you up with each thrust.

You nodded dumbly, drool dribbling out of your mouth and onto the pillow from how lax your mouth was. Nanami wanted to kiss you so bad, but he didnt want to move too much and jeopardize the position he was in right now, as he was fucking into you just right. "Do you need me to play with your clit?" Nanami offered, feeling his orgasm creep up on him faster than he expected, even though he knew he wasn't going to last.

"N-no, I'm gonna f-finish like this." You cried, tensing your pelvis and abs as you felt your own high grow closer and closer. Nanami nodded at your words, his eyes darting between your ass that ripped with each thrust and your eyes that rolled back in your head each time he pounded you. Nanami brought his hips back enough to where his cock was almost completely pulled out of you, just his tip remaining inside your walls before he slammed his hips agaisnt your ass, shoving his entire length inside your cunt.

You were unable to speak as your high washed over you unexpectedly like a freight train. Your entire body went tense, and your cunt squeezed impossibly tighter around Nanami's cock like a vice, making him stutter in his thrusts as you came all over his cock. "Oh god-" Nanami groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head and his head dangling limply in front of him as your pussy pulsed rhythmically around him. 

"I'm cumming, c-cumming-" Nanami did his best to warn you before he finished, but his orgasm caught him off guard much like your own, so he was only able to groan out a small warning before wonton groans and moans were spilling from his lips and his cock shot hot ropes of his seed into the condom. Nanami's body jerked and his abs clenched as he came, hard.

His hips stilled against your own, just twitching and jerking as he came inside you. You could feel his cock kick and throb as he filled up the condom, the warmth from his seed burning your walls and warming you up from the inside out. Kento hissed as he pulled out of your tight cunt, apologizing when you made a sound of discomfort as well. You forced your tired body to roll over to the side to look at Nanami.

The man looked disheveled and exhausted. A deep blush spread across his face and down under the V of his collared shirt, his hair was ruffled and his forehead was dripping with sweat. He looked so focused as he slid the used condom off his softening cock, letting the heavy appendage fall against his thigh as he tied it in a knot and placed it on the edge of the bed for himself to throw away later. 

He found your eyes once he was finished, a smile gracing his features as he tucked his cock back in his boxers and crawled over to you, wrapping you in his embrace. He rested his head on your chest as you cradled his head with your arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. "You did so well for me, made me feel so good sweetheart, I'm so proud of you." 

You nuzzled your head against Kento's, feeling your heart swell. "Thank you for trusting me." You said, referring to when you told him you were ready and you could take it. Kento lifted his head and leaned forward to press a kiss against your lips. "Of course my love." He responded. "I need to clean you up soon, but I understand if you need a minute to recover," Nanami said, laying his head back down on your chest.

Although he felt sleepy, he knew he had to fully take care of you first before he let himself drift off. You just lost your virginity and just had an orgasm, you were bound to be a little emotional and more fragile right now. "A few more minutes." You replied, feeling your body melt under the comforting weight of him. You felt so loved and protected as he laid on top of you, pressing kisses to your chest and collarbones.

[leclerc-hs]

73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.

“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.  

“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.

“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.

“Any reason for that?”

In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops. 

“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”

“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted. 

As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.

“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.

“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.

“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.

The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.

With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.

“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”

“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.

“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.

The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!

“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!

With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.

“Sure,” the interviewer replies.

“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.

“Oh, um no?”

With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”

Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.

It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection. 

“Vintage or new?”

You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”

“Up to you.”

“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”

The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.

“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.

“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”

Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?

The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.

Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.

“Where are the kids?”

“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably. 

As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.

“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”

"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.

"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."

“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”

“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…”  You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”

“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”

“No! It’s for me only.”

You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.

“Okay final question of the day.” 

You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home. 

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”

A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: wise likes you, and just about everyone on sixth street knows. ❀ ˎˊ- wise x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.3k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: slightly ooc wise idk im still lvl 26 okay ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: thanks you stellaronhvnters for plaguing my mind w wise. anywho this my mini break from the series LMAO wise. i love you king.

Wise can hardly focus, and for once, it isn’t because of you.

Not that he minds being distracted by you - quite the opposite. He could spend hours just watching you talk and getting lost in your eyes, occasionally nodding or agreeing with whatever you were talking about the day. He liked hearing your voice; it was soothing like a cool river, especially after a grueling day.

But this time, it’s him who’s being stared at, and to his disappointment, the one burning holes into him isn’t you (although he severely doubts he could handle it if it were to be you).

No, instead, General Chop stares at him from the corner of his eye as he prepares other customers’ orders, a hint of knowing in his usual smile. Wise can see the excitement in the chef’s eyes, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why.

“Wise?”

He seizes up, bumping his chopsticks. He’s quick to fix himself as you shoot him a nervous, but questioning smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?” he says smoothly (at least he hopes it’s smooth, he still doesn’t know how to talk to pretty people), eager to move past his minor mishap.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you laugh. “I was just saying that you have a little something on your face.”

Wise feels his cheeks warm. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.”

He moves to grab some napkins, but you beat him to it. Wise swears something in him malfunctions when he turns and suddenly you’re all too close to him, your hand reached out to clean up his face.

“Wha- Wait, what’re you-” he sputters, nearly falling off his stool as he lurches back.

“Hey, stand still,” you scold, your slight annoyance only serving to speed up his heart rate because who in the world said it was okay for you to be this cute.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from his head, with how fuzzy his mind feels. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but just sit there, dazed as you dab obliviously at the corner of his lip.

As you pull away, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, mentally thanking whatever deities reigned above that he hadn’t fainted on the spot. That would’ve been embarrassing; Belle would never let him live it down.

His face feels cooler - hopefully it isn’t so red anymore. By the time he’s able to think coherently again, you’ve started chatting again. Wise nods along (he has no idea what you’re talking about), and goes to slurp up some of his noodles when he sees General Chop again.

The chef, obviously holding back a cackle, grins encouragingly at him and flashes him a thumbs up in support. Wise internally groans. Would it be a bad idea if he drowned himself in his noodles right now?

And this isn’t the first time either - Wise is pretty sure the entirety of Sixth Street is aware of his… ugh, crush on you (saying it out loud both hurts him and makes him feel warm inside. Which is a terrible feeling. He wants to throw up).

Just last week, he’d seen you at the Coff Café, and Tin Man, being both a gracious cafe owner and a huge romantic, had decided that that day was a good day to have a 50% off deal specifically for pairs if they bought two or more items.

Wise hadn’t questioned it at first, since it was normal for shops to occasionally hold discounts like these to attract more customers. Even he was guilty of it, being a business co-owner himself.

But then you had to call him out in the line, excitedly waving him over as you were at the cashier ordering. Tin Man was behind you, a smile in his eyes that Wise wasn’t sure he liked, but he begrudgingly made his way over.

He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled as you explained the discount to him. They reminded him of the stars he’d see at twilight, when he couldn’t sleep and would climb to the roof just to watch New Eridu’s nightlife.

Naturally, he had accepted your offer of buying him a free drink (no one refuses free food), but he quickly learned to regret it when he saw the mischievous gleam in Tin Man’s artificial eyes.

He still gets flustered thinking of it now - the heart-shaped whipped cream and the whisper of “good luck” haunts him, especially when he thinks about how confused you were at the impromptu decoration.

The amount of times he’s caught his neighbors playing matchmaker, he can’t count on both hands - and that’s not including what Belle has tried. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly humiliating.

“Master, if you were planning on drifting off, perhaps you should’ve stayed home to take a nap.”

Wise sighs. “Be quiet, Fairy. I’m in public.”

“What?” you blink. Wise blinks back before realizing he’d been a little too loud.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he chuckles awkwardly, hands fiddling with each other - it’s a nervous habit of his. You smile understandingly.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, pushing your bowl towards General Chop to signify you were done with it. “You’ve been out of it today, Wise. Something on your mind?”

You, Wise wants to say, but he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself further. “I guess I’m just tired. Long day today.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You hop off the stool after sliding your share of the payment to General Chop. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Wise’s heart does a little tap dance at your offer, but he manages to keep his cool. He hastily pays General Chop before eagerly joining you in your short walk to Random Play.

“Bro!” Belle greets him enthusiastically as he opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees you, and she raises her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Wise shoots her a glare when you aren’t looking. “[Name], too? How was your da- mmghhifjk-”

Wise smiles innocently as he slaps a hand over Belle’s mouth. You can’t help but laugh at the two, and Wise admires the crinkle the corners of your eyes.

“Ignore her,” he says nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose as Belle licks his hand like the little rat she is. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands bashfully. “It’s getting late, so I should be getting back home.”

Wise nods in understanding. Belle pries herself free and he wipes his spit-covered hand on her sleeve, ignoring her sputters and protests (she chose this path. She will reap its consequences).

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

You nod, shifting your feet. “I guess it is.”

Wise’s brows furrow at your behavior - what’s on your mind. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long before his inquiry is answered.

You take a step forward, and Wise feels your arms loop around him in a tight hug. Suddenly, his senses are elevated, and it’s almost as if everything is enhanced tenfold. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sound of your breath, your hair tickling his face and the heat that radiates off of your body against him.

“I really enjoyed today,” you say, stepping back with a smile that could rival an angel’s. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Wise tries to formulate a response, but all that comes out is a squeak like a dying balloon. God, if his face was red before, it must be flaming now. You giggle at his response, before you wave both him and Belle goodbye and leave for your home.

It takes a good five minutes before he can speak again.

“Hey sis?”

Belle sounds as shocked as him. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

He hears his sister sigh.

“Wise, you’re helpless, you know that?” she shakes her head exasperatingly. “And just when you finally made progress too.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[littlelamy]

rafe x angel!reader ; the one where rafe takes you on his yacht

"come here," he said, his voice low and lustful. you hesitated, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, but you couldn't resist him.

you walked over, feeling the warmth of his body as he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist. the smell of saltwater and his expensive cologne filled your senses, making you dizzy with want. his hand slid down your back, resting just above the curve of your ass, sending a shiver through you.

"you ever been on a yacht like this before?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear. you shook your head, too flustered to speak. he chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. "well, you're in for a treat, angel."

the nickname made your heart skip a beat. he called you that because you were so different from the other girls he knew, innocent, sweet, untouched by the world he lived in. but being with rafe was changing you, making you crave things you never thought you would.

he turned you around, pressing your back against the railing, his hands gripping your hips. the metal was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat between you. rafe leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity through you. you gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders as he kissed his way down to your collarbone.

"rafe…" you whispered, but whatever you were going to say was lost as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. his mouth was demanding, his tongue teasing yours in a way that left you breathless. you could feel the desire pooling low in your belly, your body aching for more.

his hands moved up, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling you even closer. you could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against yours, the evidence of his arousal making you flush with excitement. the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the endless ocean.

rafe pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at you. "you drive me crazy, angel," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "i want you so bad."

the words sent a thrill through you, making your pulse race. you wanted him too, more than anything. but there was a part of you that was still nervous, still unsure. rafe seemed to sense it, his expression softening slightly as he cupped your face in his hands.

"relax, baby," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "i'm not gonna rush you. we'll take it slow, okay?"

you nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. rafe smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as the yacht continued its journey into the night.

the waves lapped against the sides of the boat, the sound lulling you into a sense of calm even as your mind raced with thoughts of what was to come. rafe held you close, his hands tracing lazy circles on your back as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

all you wanted was him.

[comfortless]

dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

[stunie]

“FIRST TIME’S GOTTA BE SOFT!”

WIND BREAKER + SOFT SEX. ft. togame jo, kiryu mitsuki, hayato suo, & sakura haruka x f!reader

req 1 ﾉreq 2 ﾉ nsfw + explicit smut ﾉ contains : dry humping, praise, very mild teasing, overstim, you cum from just putting it in, size kink / big dick!togame, fingering, squirting, pet names

TOGAME JO.

“Gotta relax,” Togame coos from just above you, leaning down onto his forearms to press hot kisses against the side of your neck. “And just lemme in, yeah?”

You take in a sharp breath, embrace tightening around your boyfriend’s neck as he sinks himself deeper inside, inch by inch. Your thighs are trembling atop his shoulders as you try your hardest to just relax and let him in like he said, ignoring how your cunt feels so impossibly full— and oh- he’s only halfway in.

You always knew Togame was a big person, and that it implied he would be big there…but actually trying to take him was a completely different story. You think he might actually be splitting you in half.

“J-Jo,” your eyes clench shut as you whimper. “Big…”

“Shhh, shh, shh,” he coos softly against your sensitive skin before he’s messily kissing and licking at your neck in an attempt to distract you from the agonizing stretch. “I know. ‘S okay, doll. Doing so good for me.”

“So big…” you repeat, voice sounding just as cute as always to him, so sweet and syrupy and innocent— even when you’re practically being folded underneath him like this. His cock suddenly reaches a particularly sensitive spot inside you, and you cry out, walls instinctively clenching tightly around his length.

And you think the growl that rips out of togame is borderline carnal. “Oh, fuck,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Careful. Don’t do tha— don’t squeeze me in like that.”

“S-sorry,” you pant, arms wrapped around him tightly. You think you might be feeling dizzy, or maybe just sensitive— it feels weird. Electrifying. You can feel everything so vividly right now, and maybe it’s because you’ve never taken anything this big inside, but the way your core has balled up into such a tight and intense knot is different than usual.

“Jo…..wai—”

“Shit, doll,” he’s snarling from above you. “Not letting me in.. just a little more, ‘kay?”

The knot seems to tighten up impossibly more when he pushes a bit forward, and your eyes widen, the realization suddenly hitting you like a truck. “Wait!”

Your words come out a second too late, and he’s already pushing the last few inches inside all at once. He presses up against the spot that makes you gasp, vision clouded with white as the knot in your core abruptly snaps, head falling back as you scream.

“Whoa— whoa, you’re…? ” Togame stiffens up, eyes blown wide when your walls violently clench around him before you’re suddenly gushing, juices coating his cock and thighs in a messy layer of slick.

You’re gasping under him, chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high, and a part of him wishes he could have gone back in time and recorded that. He would’ve caught the way your face contorted at the fullness and catch how you’re looking now— eyes half lidded as you pant and tremble.

It would’ve been such a treat to save a video like that.

He’s suddenly aching, and he thinks that just sitting inside you like this wasn’t gonna be enough for him now. Togame’s looming back over you in an instant, labored breaths just above you as you peer up at him through teary eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” you start babbling. “Was just too much. Came so fast- I-”

“Haven’t even moved yet, doll,” he lulls, the amusement in his eyes obvious from the way he’s watching your lips press into a nervous line. “Too early for you to be squirting on me, don’t you think?”

The burn on your cheeks worsens, and you think you could die of embarrassment— but the excited flutter of your walls is practically shameless, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Feeling good on my dick?”

“..Good enough for another one?”

Your eyes widen, and he’s pulling out slowly until just the tip is inside before he slams back, and the noise you choke out has his cock just twitching in anticipation.

“Let me join you this time, yeah?”

KIRYU MITSUKI.

“My pretty girl,” Kiryu smiles when you perk up at the nickname. “Are you nervous?”

His voice is a soft whisper against the shell of your ear, hands steady on your hips as he guides you back and forth across his cock, your slick coating him in thick and messy layers. “Just a little bit..” you mumble, face buried deep into the crook of his neck.

You’re so wet. You were never this wet when you touched yourself, and truth be told, you didn’t know it was possible to be this soaked. The sounds of your pants and Kiryu’s deep sighs are drowned out by the lewd noises your cunt is making when you’re humping so desperately against him, face contorting each time your clit grinds against his tip.

He hasn’t even gone inside you. Not his fingers, not his cock. Nothing— and you’re aching so badly for it.

“Ah!” You gasp when his cock suddenly twitches against you, slapping against your clit before he’s pulling you right back down, moving you back and forth with a little more urgency this time.

“Ah, sorry,” Kiryu’s chuckle comes out strained, his jaw clenched tightly. “It’s a little hard to control myself, I guess. You just feel so good, love. Can’t help it..”

A part of you is thankful that his lights are off. the faint glow of Kiryu’s gaming leds are just barely enough to illuminate the two of you, and it gives you the courage you need to sneak glances downwards, eyes catching the way the muscles of his arms flex as he guides your hips back and forth.

It’s only when your gaze shifts further downwards that you notice it. Tue subtle flex of his abs, and just below, his hips. Completely soaked in your slick. Were you really that wet? Your thighs are also trembling more wildly now, and you’re unsure if it’s because you’ve been hovering over him for so long or if it’s because he feels so good against you.

Another part of you thinks it’s because of nerves— his voice sending a shiver straight down your spine each time he whispers something so lewd into your ears.

“I-it’s okay,” you stutter, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “Want more, Suki.”

“Hmmm?” His hum comes out amused. “More? Can you handle more?”

He chuckles a bit when you nod without even a small trace of hesitation. “But you’re shaking so much.”

Kiryu is certain he’s fallen in love with you all over again. His gaze softens at the sight of you, watching with a smile as your shaky hands move to shyly line his cock up with your hole, thighs trembling even harder trying to keep balance without his help. It’s only a few seconds later when you’re letting out a distracted whine, pleading eyes coming to lock with his. “Suki..”

“I know. Leave everything to me, angel,” he says with a soft smile, grunting when he adjusts his position on his mattress, hands coming to steady your hips.

“Let me know if it's too much, okay?”

HAYATO SUO.

“Mmm,” Suo lets out a slow hum from beside you, chin rested gently atop your shoulder and his eyes fixated on the way his fingers are moving in and out of your dripping cunt. “I don’t think you’re quiet ready yet.”

Your eyebrows furrow— not ready? This had to be the third, or maybe even the fourth. You’ve lost count of the exact number of orgasms he’s pulled from you tonight with just his fingers, but you’re certain it was more than enough to prep you.

“No….” your protest comes out strained, voice weak and weary, but your cunt seems to be the opposite— still greedy, still eagerly swallowing his fingers whole and sucking him right back inside each time he’s trying to pull them back. You’re gushing with every curl of his fingers, slick lewdly dripping onto your mattress to form a puddle right beneath the two of you.

“Please….need you— need you so bad,” you babble, unsure if your words are coming out coherent with how hot your head feels. “Please, please, please.”

His lips tug into a gentle smile, eyes softening at your current state. “..And what is it that you need?”

He’s feigning innocence, but he swears he’s not being mean to you. He would never, not when you’re asking him so sweetly, crystalline tears collecting along your lashes from the overstimulation— but he knows the extent of your greed. fingers aren’t enough for you.

“Y-you. Need you.”

The soft chuckle that leaves his lips has your cheeks filling with heat, but you don’t get to wallow in embarrassment— not when you’re gasping loudly as soon as he’s pressing against your ass, heavy cock rubbing against you. He feels so big against you, and you think your senses have been heightened from how clearly you can feel each and every vein on his cock drag along your skin.

“This?” he asks. “You can have it. I’m yours, after all.”

You’re quick to shake your head, looking almost too innocent for someone who’s making such a mess on your sheets just for some dick— and he hasn’t even stuffed you full yet.

“No— not like that. Need it inside..” you whisper, voice trailing off into a needy and frustrated whine.

“Oh? You meant inside?”

You ignore the way your cheeks burn at the suggestion, head nodding desperately. He’s humming when his hands come to delicately circle at your clit, cock slick with your juices when he finally prods at your hole. It’s slow and steady when he pushes inside, forcing himself deeper and deeper as your eyes widen, strained moan ripping from your throat at the stretch.

“You should have specified, love,” he coos, but his voice comes out a little breathless from the way you’re squeezing him. It takes everything in him to go slow for you— inch inside until his cock is finally nestling against your cervix, and oh- you’ve never felt so stuffed.

“You okay?” Suo exhales shakily, hands subconsciously tightening their grip around your hips.

You’re barely able to choke out a “w-wait,” tired eyes narrowing and blinking to rid of the dizzying stars dotting your vision. “‘M not sure.”

Suo’s lips are back on your neck the next second, planting a wet trail of kisses up the skin as you shiver beneath his hold. “You can handle me, pretty girl. I know you can. I’m already inside, aren’t I?”

Your walls flutter eagerly against him at the sound of his voice just beside your ear, and you nod, mumbling something about how you wanna try, and that he feels so good— you just aren’t sure you can take it.

“Sure you can. And you know exactly what to say if it’s too much, don’t you? My sweet girl.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

Sakura’s hands roughly slam beside your head, face contorting to a grimace as he inches inside, your walls sucking him up with desperation. His face is red with heat, jaw clenched so hard that he thinks he can hear the way his teeth are grinding against each other— but you just feel so good. He’s drunk on the feeling, and he hasn’t even gone all the way in yet.

“Ah—!” You gasp when his hips stutter against you, the rest of his length slamming inside as he chokes out a strained groan.

He never would have guessed that he’d be buried in your cunt by the end of today. It started off as a sweet movie date, with you cuddled against his side as you shared snacks. He doesn’t quite remember how that led to such a heated make out session, or how the two of you starting marking each other up— lips attached to the other’s neck, or even how that led to desperately grinding against each other … and now he’s sinking his cock into you.

“S-shit, sorry,” he sputters, hands balling into fists as he forces himself to keep still. His cock twitches once, twice, so eager and desperate for more of you— but he holds himself back. He would never ever dream of hurting you.

“Did that hurt..?”

You shake your head.

“Need you, Haru,” you whine, and your arms reach to wrap around his neck, pulling him flush against you— but you accidentally pull him deeper inside, both pairs of eyes widening when his cock roughly shoves against the deepest spot inside you.

“Fuck—” his voice is just above a growl. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“But I want all of y-you,” your voice is so sweet, so soft, and it’s a challenge for him for hold back the knot threatening to snap in his core. You feel so damn good, so fucking good— he just can’t handle it.

“No,” he protests, lips parted in heavy pants. “Don’t know if i can hold myself back if you act like that.”

[bartxnhood]

cowboy casanova | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: “Omg, how about Tyler Owens comforting reader on their first storm chase, maybe she’s really nervous or scared and he’s like don’t worry I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you… something like that???”

warnings: depictions of a tornado, reader has a panic attack. severe damage to homes and buildings.

w/c: 1.7k

a/n: thank you for the request! i added a touch of a backstory to help the plot go forward. i hope that’s okay!! i’m also currently in the theater about to watch it again (i saw it last night lol) enjoy <3

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2024 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you see a man standing in a wide-open field, as the sky above you darkened to a menacing shade of gray. the once-gentle breeze turns into a fierce, howling wind, and you feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.

you were assigned to follow him and his crew around while they chased these monstrous tornadoes then went in and dissolved the threat. you worked for a huge journaling company from the north, but you grew up in arkansas and became familiar with these devastating weather patterns.

now, you were in oklahoma where you’d be joining this storm chaser during a week-long chase.

“you ready to chase some storms?” his back was still towards you, and his southern drawl was familiar.

as the man in the maroon shirt and white cowboy hat, spun on his heels to face you, you were taken aback.

tyler owens.

“y/n?”

his blood ran cold, not expecting to see you after all of these years. you laughed in disbelief, “this is crazy..” you shook your head and crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg.

“you’re the journalist?”

you and tyler go way back. the two of you were in school together, majoring in meteorology.he started chasing these storms, becoming famous on campus.

but, it all came to a head one day when you got trapped and lost your best friend. that’s when you dropped meteorology and took up journalism. you documented the destruction, the path, how they moved, etc.

and now, you were writing about who was called the tornado wrangler. you should’ve done your research but you didn’t want the assignment.

but, he had become so popular with his crew. they’d go inside the twisters and release a mixture to help dissolve the storm. and it worked.

“you’re the wrangler?” you ask, and tyler laughs. that signature laugh that always made you want to punch him in his pretty little face.

tyler turns around and rests his hands on his hips. “what do you see?”

the wind picks up even further, swirling around you in a dizzying dance, pulling at your clothes and hair. you sigh, taking a few steps closer till you are standing next to him.

“there” you point to the east, the air was thick with an unsettling hum as a dark mass loomed on the horizon. the skies darkened further, and a chilling gust of wind whipped up debris and sent trees bending at unnatural angles.

"another one" he murmured, eyes locked on the clouds as his adrenaline spiked and his lips pulled into a smile that he couldn't help but wear every time a storm was brewing.

glancing over at you he tried to hide the excitement in his chest that he felt when one appeared, but tyler knew hiding your feelings from another storm chaser was like trying to hide a tornado in an open field.

"how much do you wanna bet it'll touch down two miles east of our position" he teased, eyes scanning the clouds for clues.

“mm” you shake your head, even though you hadn’t done it in years you still had it. “three.” you continue, then point to the wind and how it carries against the wheat field.

“look at the way the wind is carrying. it’ll go east and hit north. perfect conditions,” you add crossing your arms

“i think you have yourself a ef5.”

uou had it. the intuition to tell where a storm was going to go by only looking at the clouds, the way the winds were blowing, and the speed at which the storm moved.

tyler had a similar gift, every storm chaser had it, but he had never met someone who could predict the size of a storm, which was a rarity he had never seen before.

“ah EF5, huh? i’ll hold you to that. If you’re wrong, you’re buying me a beer.”

tyler owens would be the death of you.

“i’m not buying you anything, owens.”

you load up into his truck, snapping pictures of forming a storm. he was flooring the red truck in a wheat field right towards the storm so he could get ahead of it.

“ya miss it?” he yells, over the thunder. occasionally turning his head to look at you. you say nothing, continuing to snap pictures.

“sometimes.” you blurt, not looking back at him. “i just don’t miss the destruction” you continue, rolling up the window and reviewing the photos.

“you were good,” he says, one hand on the steering wheel and eyes still taking glances at you. “mm” you just hum in response, not wanting to talk about your storm chasing days.

suddenly, a funnel begins to descend from the clouds, growing larger and more ominous by the second. the air around you crackles with anticipation, and you realize that you are witnessing the terrifying formation of a tornado. an EF5.

this was the second time you had ever seen an EF5 form in front of you, this was frightening.

you held onto your camera tightly as tyler drove right towards the black abyss. “shit..” you mumble quietly.

as the rain beat down on the windshield, the engine's roar could hardly be heard above the gathering storm.

tyler's truck sped through the wide-open fields, creating a trail of dirt and dust in their wake. with his eyes locked on the approaching storm, he clinched his teeth and gripped the steering wheel firmly like a man about to die.

he had chased tornadoes before, but never an EF5. the adrenaline in his veins was making his heart race and his senses heighten as he pushed the truck to drive faster, the roar of the wind and thunder in their ears.

“what a beauty” he muttered, admiring the sheer force and size of the storm in front of them.

as your heart pounded furiously in your chest, you felt a sudden tightening of the breath in your lungs.

your mind raced with panicked thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. you fought to stay calm, but the fear was overwhelming, like a living entity trying to consume you whole.

sweat beaded on your forehead, and your hands trembled as you held the camera. the world around them seemed to blur and spin out of control, like the tornado in front of them.

"tyler, we should go back," you yelled. tyler smiled, eyes fixed on the whirling green giant in front of him.

he yells, "not a chance, l/n. look at it!" as he maneuvers through the difficult terrain. “we can’t give up now!”

“stop!” you proceeded to yell, flashes of that night you lost your best friend. the way the sky looked, how it sounded, the rain on your skin, how cold you were. it was all flashing in front of you, experiencing the whole thing again.

tears brim your eyes, your body shaking like a leaf. “please! just stop!” you yell over the growl of the thunder clapping.

tyler’s heart sank to his stomach as he heard the raw emotion in your voice. he had teased you and challenged uou, but now it was clear that this was not just another storm for you.

it was a personal struggle that was tearing you apart and he had triggered it with his arrogance.

without a word, he stomped on the brakes and brought the truck to a screeching halt, his own heart racing against his ribs.

"y/n, look at me," he said, voice suddenly hoarse and quiet.

you’re gasping for air, pulling at the collar of your crewneck. the cab of the truck felt like it was closing in on you, you unbuckled the seat belt and tried to unlock the door. “i can’t do this” your bottom lip begins to quiver. “i have to..i gotta get out of here.”

you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. your mind is fogged with the traumatic experience of the last time you were caught in the eye of a storm like this.

tyler’s heart dropped as he saw you struggling, your gasping breaths and trembling body. he reached over to her, gently grabbing your wrist, preventing you from opening the door of the truck.

“hey, hey, whoa. look at me, look at me, please.” he pleaded, his voice firm but surprisingly gentle.

he reached out and took your chin, gently turning your head to face him. his eyes searched yours for a moment before narrowing in concern.

“y/n, listen to me. you need to breathe, sweetheart.”

your breathless, unable to think straight until your eyes meet his sea green orbs. you take in a deep breath and mirror tyler’s breathing.

inhale, exhale.

you repeated this until you eventually calmed down.

your hands continue to tremble as you speak, “tyler, i cannot do this. i just can’t.” hour southern drawl escaping. “it’s too much”

tyler watched as your rapid breathing slowly began to match his own, your hand gripping his tightly. his heart ached as he saw the fear and the anguish in your eyes, and knew that this was not just a simple fear of storms.

it was a trauma, something deeply personal, that had left a permanent mark on your soul.

he gently raised his other hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, trying to soothe you. “i know, i know” he whispered, his own tone gentle and soft.

“ain’t nothin gonna happen to you, kay? i won’t let it.” he assures your worries, wiping away the stray tear that escaped your eyes then tucked some hair behind your ear.

“i’ve got you.” he continues. you watch as his attention goes from you to the tornado in front of you. “if you want me to take you back i need to know, now” he says, looking back at you.

you sniffle, following his gaze to the twister.

if he could stop something like this it would be a huge achievement to the community. no more damage, no more homelessness. it would all be fixed.

“no..” you begin, and find your eyes back on him. “i’ll be fine.”

tyler nods, putting the truck into drive. one hand on the steering wheel and the other reaching for yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “you’ll be fine, city girl.”

you choke out a laugh, and shake your head.

“then, let’s chase this beaut!” he yips and slams his foot on the gas and takes off towards the monster of a tower.

[pastryfication]

fan interactions | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader

summary: you tend to shy away from all interactions and oscar has never had a problem with that. he can’t deny that seeing you interact with his fans isn’t a sight he enjoys, though.

warnings: none!!

every race weekend you are able to attend follows a familiar pattern for you: you arrive at the track with oscar, your heart pounding with excitement and anxiety as the noise, the crowds and the high energy overwhelming you. sticking close to your boyfriend’s side, holding onto his arms or hand is the best comfort you can get. oscar’s presence beside you acts as your shield, your safe haven in the whirlwind of it all.

today is no different. as you walk through the bustling paddock, you stick close to oscar, basically hiding behind him. he holds your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the chaos and you enjoy being able to cling to him. you know he understands how you feel, always making sure you’re comfortable, never pushing you to interact more than you’re ready for, and you appreciate it so much. all of your life, people have tried to force you into becoming more social, but it never helped you, only made you more uncomfortable, so oscar’s understanding means the world.

today, though, something unexpected happens. as you pass by a group of fans, one of them, a young girl with a friendly smile, catches your eye. she steps forward, her excitement palpable.

“hi!” she exclaims. “you’re oscar’s girlfriend, right?” her are eyes wide with admiration as she questions you.

you nod shyly, trying to force your voice above a whisper. “yes, i am.”

the fan beams at you, reaching into her bag. “i made this for you. it’s a bracelet with oscar’s racing colours and his number! i hope you like it.”

she hands you a beautiful bracelet woven with intricate patterns in orange and gold. your heart swells with warmth at the kind gesture. “thank you so much, it’s lovely,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as you take the bracelet and slips it around your wrist.

“can i take a picture of you wearing it?” the fan asks, her eyes sparkling with hope.

overwhelmed by the attention, you try your best to seem calm and confident, but your hands are shaking slightly as you nod your head.

the fan takes a quick photo while you muster up your best smile. her gratitude is evident in her eyes as she thanks you. “thank you so so much! you’re so sweet.”

you manage a small genuine smile in return, feeling a mix of nerves and happiness. as the fan takes a step back, you turn to catch up with your boyfriend. when he feels your presence besides him, oscar turns to you, his eyes full of pride.

“you handled that so well,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “i know it’s not easy for you, but you were amazing.”

you blush, looking down at the bracelet. “i was so nervous,” you laugh awkwardly. “but she was really nice.”

oscar chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “you were adorable. i think it’s cute how shy you get. and i love seeing you smile like that.”

your heart flutters at his words, butterflies forming in your stomach. being with oscar made you feel so special. something about his intense attention and affection makes you feel like the most important person in the world. moments like these only work to further remind you just how deeply he understands and appreciates you. you lean into him, wrapping your hands around his bicep as you continue walking into the paddock.

“thank you,” you whisper, grateful for his constant support. “i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to do anything alone. i’m always gonna be here for you.”

his promise makes a brighter, even more beautiful smile appear on your face. walking towards the mclaren hospitality, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingers reminds you just how lucky you are. the luckiest girl in the world perhaps.

[6esiree]

Asking Them to Make A Porn Video With You

Imagine you have an OnlyFans and you ask Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, and Adam if they want to make a porn video with you for the first time?

Alastor:

When you approached Alastor with this question, he blinked, unsure whether he had heard you correctly. He’s a very private individual, so the mere thought of the two of you being recorded while doing something intimate for others to watch irked him. Alastor was also certain that he’d lose respect as an overlord if word got out that he was participating in adult films—in short, the answer to your question was an easy no.

“Nobody will know it’s you, I promise,” You said, grabbing his hands and pulling him in for an embrace, looking up at him with a pout. “Please, Al? I’ll do anything.”

Alastor was about to shake his head, but when you said that, he hummed, a wicked smile on his face as he considered your offer.

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

“Anything.”

Alastor wouldn’t make you do anything that would put you in harm’s way, however, if he needed a favor in the future, he knew that he could count on you. That is what he reminded himself as he pressed the live button on your phone, capturing the way his cock slid in and out of your cunt. He kept his mouth perfectly shut while you unashamedly tossed your head back against the pillow, making all sorts of pretty sounds for your viewers instead of him.

Alastor felt jealousy stir in his chest as message after message poured in from all the nasty, horny sinners watching your cunt flutter around his cock, but he used it as motivation to make you cum. He focused the camera on your face as he leaned in and plunged into you in a new position, his free hand slithering up your thigh to massage your clit, the head of his cock hitting that velvety spot inside of you.

Your viewers were disappointed, and that gratified Alastor, but only for a bit. As you came, the man’s hand and his thrusts never letting up, you whined, clearly overstimulated. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ You chanted, tears welling up in your eyes as your body shook underneath him. Yeah, Alastor was definitely going to offer to support you financially after that, the last message he saw on your phone about some random wanting to ‘meet up’ making him shatter your phone in disgust.

The video wasn’t lost, however, Alastor’s eye twitching in annoyance as you named it right next to him.

“Pussy So Good That He Broke My Phone.”

Lucifer:

To say that Lucifer was flustered when you approached him with this question was a severe understatement. You wanted to do what with him? Record the two of you doing something…intimate for others to watch? Yeah, he was the King of Hell, and he could do anything that his heart desired, but he still had a reputation to uphold. You had to assure him that nobody would know that it was him behind the camera to get him to accept, so long as he kept his mouth shut, of course.

“If it’ll make my darling happy then, sure, why not?” Lucifer said, feeling nervous but also slightly excited as you approached him.

“Just because of that, I’ll let you choose what we do,” You said, grabbing his chin and gently lifting it so he could look up at you.

“I, uh—are you sure?” Lucifer squeaked.

You nodded with a ‘mhm,’ your eyes flitting downwards to see how he nervously wrung his hands in front of his pants.

“Get on your knees…please?”

Lucifer shakily held your phone above his stomach, secretly afraid that he’d switch the camera’s perspective as your mouth eagerly swallowed his cock, streaks of cum cascading down your face. You brought your head back, your hand wrapping around the base while your tongue sloppily kissed the head. Lucifer couldn’t help but softly curse, carding his fingers through your hair with his free hand, tugging at you to slow down so he wouldn’t come prematurely.

The way you looked up at him through your lashes, teary-eyed, flushed cheeks, swollen lips and all made him push your head back onto his cock, however, a choked sound escaping your throat as your nose met his pelvis. Lucifer decided that he would subscribe to your channel later on, wanting to revisit how the head peeked through your cheek while you sucked him off, or how your mouth fell open when he finally came, swallowing every drop of cum he had to offer with the corner of your lips curved upwards.

Lucifer is horrified when he finds your video, though, the name making his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Big Dick In Charge Gives Me A Facial.”

Husk:

Approaching Husk with this question was a bit of a nerve-wracking experience, especially because you couldn’t easily predict his response. The man was reserved, but he’d also done some…questionable things in his past. That’s why when Husk shrugged and said ‘Why not?’ you weren’t all that surprised, at least not until he told you that he didn’t care about preserving his identity because he had nothing to lose.

“What d’ya want me to do, doll?” Husk asked, answering him by motioning towards the loveseat in the corner of your room.

“Take a seat over here and make yourself comfortable,” You said with a smile, watching him do just that.

You placed your phone on the coffee table in the center, using an adjustable stand to angle it in a way that would only show your lower halves. You took a seat on Husk’s lap, your back against his chest as you lifted up your skirt and slowly spread your legs for the camera to see, whispering ‘Touch me,’ to him. Husk obliged, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold air. You moaned as he massaged your clit, feeling him poke your ass from the confines of his pants.

Husk didn’t free himself, however, his other hand going around your waist, unbuttoning your shirt to fondle your breasts. He felt rather powerful as you writhed on his lap, your juices staining his crotch as he kept denying your orgasm. Nobody else could have you like this, so he hoped you’d incorporate him in your future videos to remind your viewers of that. For now, Husk decided to indulge in your pleas while he toyed with your cunt, his mouth latching onto your neck as he plunged two fingers into your hole.

Out of curiosity, Husk asked you what you named your video, his ears falling flat against his head with a groan when you told him.

“Old Man Plays With My Kitty.”

Vox:

Image—that’s what Vox valued the most, and everybody knew that. That’s why when you approached him with this question, you weren’t surprised when he told you no, turning his back to you as he resumed whatever he was previously doing. You pretended to head towards the elevator, mumbling something about asking Valentino to help you instead, Vox immediately materializing in front of you with a ‘I changed my mind.’

“I’ll do it, so long as no recognizable part of me comes out,” Vox said, staring down at you as he rounded you. “Not even my hands, sweetheart. Everybody knows who I am.”

“Fine, just…stand behind me,” You instructed him, the camera zoomed in on you.

“Like this?” Vox said, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants when you nodded.

Vox held onto your hips with a tight grip, your legs closed shut as his cock slid between your folds from behind. He was struggling to stay quiet, used to dirty talking with you when he was making you feel good. At least your moans gave you away, he thought as the head of his cock purposely missed your hole, massaging your clit instead. Vox had never done this before, and as good as it felt gliding through your wetness, he could tell you weren’t getting much out of it.

Your viewers were enjoying watching you get teased, though, all sorts of degrading names directed at you flooding the chat. Oh, did that piss off Vox. He suddenly kicked your legs open, thrusting up into you without any warning. You let out a cry, feeling relieved but also confused, especially because everybody would recognize his clothes. But Vox would deal with that later, too busy listening to your cunt squelch as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

When Vox got on his monitors after that, preparing to hypnotize whoever watched your video, he started choking on his coffee.

“Watch Me Get Fucked From Behind—A Video You’ll Probably Forget.”

Adam:

For someone who loved having sex, everywhere and anywhere and in whatever position imaginable, Adam was a stuttering mess when you approached him with this question. To be fair, it’s an entirely different thing to record yourself doing something intimate for many to see, so you had to assure him that nobody would find out who he was, in Heaven or in Hell, taking into account the fact that he always wore his mask.

“I’ve fucked, like, a shit ton of people before you, babe,” Adam said as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t think they’ll recognize my dick?”

“Yeah, uh, I kind of doubt that but…” You started, backing up until the back of your knees hit the bed. “Maybe you could eat me out? Most people are used to seeing you with your mask on, so…yeah.”

Adam was also used to being on the receiving end, but he eventually shrugged, taking off his mask before pushing you down. “Only your mouth comes out—it’s a closeup,” You told him when he shot the phone next to his face a suspicious look. He mumbled ‘Yeah, yeah,’ a sigh escaping your throat as he kissed you through your panties, teasing you almost in revenge for making him get on his knees. Adam secretly enjoyed it, however, the wetness he was greeted by when he moved the lacey fabric aside serving to boost his ego.

The man had you panting in no time, his tongue fluttering against your clit as a mixture of his saliva and your juices dribbled down his chin. His fingers worked away at your cunt, too, relentlessly massaging that velvety spot inside of you. Adam almost cursed when you suddenly pulled his head back by his hair, the look of confusion on his face instantly contorting into one of surprise as you convulsed around his fingers, a clear liquid cascading down your thighs.

He blinked, the disbelief evident on his features as you suddenly ended the live video, your chest heaving and your legs trembling. “I just made you squirt, babe, holy shit!” Adam said, making you laugh. You proceeded to sit up and seize his collar, encouraging him to get on top of you. “Do that again, but with your dick this time.” Of course, he did not hesitate when it came to that, straining against his robes as he noticed the mess underneath you.

Adam was content with how everything went down…until he logged into your account when you were asleep, his eyes bugging out of his head at the name of the video.

“Dickmaster? More like Pussymaster: How To Make Someone Squirt.”

[mariasont]

not sure if you’re planning to write this, but smut with spencer & bimbo!receptionist!reader would probably fix my problems 😔 i feel like spencer would be praising her nonstop, while also being condescending & i fucking live for that‼️

Undo You - S.R

a/n: i love ur mind anon 😚 i hope this lives up to what you want 🫶🏼🫶🏼✨ thank you for requesting xoxo

anyway i kinda think this is bad bc i didn’t proofread but whatever ill prob go back and edit laters!

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: bimbo reader and spencer doing the nasty

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, degrading? (not really), spencer being slightly condescending, p in v, unprotected sex (BE BETTER!), creampie (STOP I HATE IT TOO BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT?!?!?! TWINKIE?!?!)

wc: 1.3k

Mustering the courage to ask you out was a feat in itself but getting you into his bed was a whole other ballgame. But here you were, fingers roaming through his hair and tracing the contours of his back. You were perfect, and you were in his bed.

The wasn't the first, nor would it be the last if he had anything to do with it. It's hard to fathom his good luck--to have you, breathtaking in every sense, under him, your fingertips gently grazing his waist band as you inch towards his cock.

Your makeup was almost artfully messy, with mascara delicately pooled beneath your lashes, rendering you devastatingly tempting. You had glittering eyeshadow on, and it was getting everywhere. Spencer felt the urge to undo you--to disrupt the pristine image you presented to the world, to make you uniquely his. Selfish? Without a doubt. But that didn't diminish the idea. 

Your hands, with their perfect manicure, were now wrapped around his cock, tugging and pulling as if your palms were sculpted precisely for this purpose. 

You were saying something, your lips a mesmerizing motion as he grasped the sheets beside you, each fistful a concerted effort to remain control.

"What, angel?" He was trying to be patient with you.

You talked a lot in general, but in bed, it only seemed to amplify. This was not a bad thing, not in his eyes, no, it was almost too much of a good thing. Each time your mouth opened and closed with another airy comment he found himself that much closer to spilling his load all over you.

"Your face is really red," you breathed out, nostrils flaring slightly, your eyes averted, engrossed in the sight of his length enclosed between your hands.

He stifled a laugh, resisting the urge to shove his cock into that pretty mouth of yours.

"Well, you see," Spencer starts, pausing as your hand presses to the tip of his length, "when someone is excited...or aroused, blood flow increases to the f-face, causing...vasodilation. It's... it's a sympathetic nervous system response."

"Oh, like when you get all red after running?" You tilt your head in that curious way of yours, your actions uninterrupted as words flowed from you.

"Yes, exactly like that."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you off of him and pressing that same hand to the mattress below him.

"And just like my face gets red, your pupils dilate when you're excited," Spencer explains, his hand poised just above your collarbone, sketching paths on your skin, "It's due to the release of norepinephrine, which is part of your body's fight of flight response."

Your lips were parted, pressing your body into him like you couldn't help yourself, hips squirming under his.

"So, what's the verdict, sweet girl?" Spencer asks, watching your gaze met his, lips parting as he dragged a hand over your clothed heat. "What's your body telling you? Fight of flight?"

You kissed him, gasping into his mouth as he pushed a finger into you. You were drenched. "Is submit an option?"

"That's my girl," he said, feeling his cock tighten even more, as if that were possible, almost moaning at the sight of your dimple being drawn out.

You whined, arching your back against the navy-blue sheets as your hands locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. He could smell everything about you from here—your coconut shampoo, your vanilla perfume, your lavender lotion. He wanted to inhale it, to inhale you.

He didn't even bother with your skirt, simply pulling your panties out from under it and lining himself up with your entrance. He watched, enthralled, as your chest rose and fell, holding your breath as you braced for his cock. You were so good for him, too good for him.

One hand clasped against your hip as the other guided his length into you, hissing as you tightened around him. It was a feeling that could never get old, like he was being reborn, like the world was ending and you and him were the only two people left. He would be fine with that.

Your face twisted up in pleasure as you began to rock against him, not giving yourself that chance to adjust. You did this often and it caused him to push down on your hips, stopping your movements. He could come if you kept doing that. He would.

"Patience," he hissed, but you were never one that was good with following orders.

You moved again, tits bouncing up and down your chest as you did. He stifled a groan, meeting your movements with thrusts of his own.

He imagined this is what Buddhists meant when they referred to finding the garden of Nirvana. This was it for him. The ultimate state of liberation and profound peace.

You were a blubbering mess, fingertips clawing down his back, surely to leave marks, but he couldn’t care less.

“Look at you,” he cooed, rutting his cock in and out of you. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind, baby?”

“N-No,” you stammered, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms went around his neck, clinging to him like a koala, your moans now pressed up against his ear.

“I figured as much.”

Your tits were flush against his chest, his breath stalling as he reached in the limited space between you, thumb circling your clit. Your whines intensified, just as his thrusts did.

“Spencer, please, yes, oh fuck—,” you paused, a gasp releasing from your lips as he felt you unravel on his cock, your wet cunt clenching around him in a way that made his legs shake.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.” His movements were more desperate now, sloppily slamming into you without mercy. “You’re so fucking good, baby.”

He barely recognized your lips against his ear. “Will you come inside me please?”

That was all it took, those simple words, brushing against his skin and rushing all the way down to his cock. His thrusts slowing as he pumped himself inside you, the sound completely obscene, but it just made him enjoy it that much more.

You were limp against the bed, and Spencer was quick to follow, face finding the crook of his neck as he tried his best not to crush you with his weight.

He could feel your pulse against his lips, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses into your honey induced skin as he waited for you to return back to planet Earth.

He was well aware of the drill, pressing one last kiss to your sweaty forehead before prying himself out of your hands and making a beeline for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and a glass of water before coming back to the bed, nearly fainting at your tired smile shining at him, at him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“I really love when you call me that,” you said, almost dreamily as you pushed your tousled hair into the pillow.

He laughed, placing the water on the table and moving your legs so he was between them.

“Gorgeous,” he repeated as he dabbed the towel to your sex, cleaning the mess he made on you. “Do I not call you that enough? Because I can certainly make it a more regular occurrence.”

“Well, I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” you said, giggling as you flinched away from the pressure on your clit.

He pushed your leg down, preventing you from squirming. “Let me clean you up.”

You pouted, and he had the sudden urge to bite your bottom lip. You gave him a salute, giggling before you could even get the words out. “Aye, aye captain.”

He tossed the towel to the side, climbing up your legs as he kissed you, soft and slow, murmuring into your lips, “come here, smart ass.”

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf

[harrysfolklore]

first win - op81

gif by @princemick <33

summary: the road to oscar’s first grand prix win. wc: 3.4K

folkie radio: OSC’S FIRST WIN 🥹🥹🥹 that race that so stressful but he did it and i’m so happy! fun fact: i wrote this fic last night bc i just FELT oscar was winning, i just added today’s race a few hours ago 😭 i hope you like it! leave feedback

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

February 5, 2023. Bahrain Grand Prix

Today was the big day. Oscar Piastri was set to make his Formula 1 debut as a McLaren driver.

You've talked about this countless of times, sharing dreams and fears, mapping out every step of his journey from karting to the pinnacle of motorsport.

Now, as you stood in the garage with the crowd's energy buzzing around you, it was hard to believe that moment had finally arrived.

Oscar was going through some pre-race talks with his team. You caught sight of him from a distance, his face a mask of focus and determination. When he spotted you, he broke into a smile, and for a brief moment, the tension seemed to melt away.

You make your way over to him as he finishes up with his team.

"Ready to set the track on fire, hotshot?" you tease, playfully tugging at the sleeve of his race suit.

Oscar grins, a mix of excitement and nerves dancing in his eyes. "Well, hopefully not literally. I don't think the team would appreciate a barbecued car on my first outing."

His chuckle is tinged with a hint of nervousness. You notice his hand fidgeting with the zipper of his race suit – a telltale sign of his pre-race jitters.

"Hey," you say softly, taking his hand. "Remember what we always say? You've earned this. You belong here."

"I know. It's just...," he took a deep breath, "It's really happening, isn't it? All those years of dreaming, and now..."

"And now you're about to drive the pants off everyone out there," you finish for him, your voice filled with confidence.

As the final call for drivers echoes through the garage, you both know it's time. Oscar's eyes lock with yours, a swirl of emotions passing between you. Without a word, he pulls you close, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's brief but filled with emotion.

"For luck," you whisper as you part, your foreheads still touching.

"With you here, I've got all the luck I need," Oscar replies softly, his smile warm and genuine.

With a final squeeze of your hand, he heads to where he's needed. You watch him go, your heart racing with anticipation.

The race begins, and for the first 14 laps, everything seems to be going well. Oscar is holding his own, fighting in the midfield, showing flashes of the talent that got him here.

But on lap 15, your heart sinks as you see his car slow down, veering off the racing line. The team radio crackles with the devastating news: "Box, box. We have a steering issue. We need to retire the car."

You watch, helpless, as Oscar brings the car back to the pits. The disappointment is palpable as he climbs out, his debut cut short.

As soon as he's free from the debrief, you find him in his driver's room. His face is a mask of frustration and disappointment.

"Hey," you say softly, taking his hand. "You okay?"

Oscar sighs, squeezing your hand. "Not really. I just... I wanted to finish the race, you know? Show everyone what I could do."

You pull him into a hug. "And you will. This is just the first race, Oscar. There are plenty more to come."

July 9, 2023. British Grand Prix

Silverstone is one of the most special races in the calendar, and for Oscar it's even more special because England is his second home.

He really wanted to deliver a great result. So far, he hadn't been able to place above P8 and he desperately wanted to improve that.

"I know you're nervous about tomorrow," you said as you laid your head on his chest, feeling him tense, "But you're going to do great, baby."

Oscar wraps his arm around you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder. "You really think so?" he asks, his voice a mix of hope and uncertainty.

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I know so. You've been getting stronger with every race. The car's improving, and you're more comfortable with it. Plus, this is Silverstone - you know this track like the back of your hand."

He smiles, some of the tension leaving his face. "I do love this circuit."

"That's the spirit," you say, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Now get some sleep. You've got some racing to do in the morning."

The next day you watch from the garage, your heart swells with pride as Oscar delivers a perfect drive. As he crosses the finish line in P4, the garage erupts in cheers. It's his best result in Formula 1 to date, a performance that will silence any remaining doubters.

When he finally makes it back to the garage, helmet off and face beaming, you're there waiting. He sweeps you up in a hug, both of you laughing with joy.

"You did it!" you exclaim as he sets you down. "I told you you could do it!"

Oscar's eyes are shining with elation and pride. "We did it," he corrects you. "I couldn't have done this without your support."

September 24th, 2023. Japanese Grand Prix

You're perched on the edge of your couch, eyes glued to the TV screen, your heart racing as the lights go out at Suzuka. It's killing you not to be there in person, but work commitments had made the trip to Japan impossible.

Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Oscar yesterday after qualifying. His voice had been filled with excitement and a hint of disbelief as he told you about securing second place on the grid, right behind Max Verstappen.

"Can you believe it?" he had said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "P2! Right behind Max! I mean, I knew the car felt good, but this... this is incredible!"

You had matched his enthusiasm, your pride evident in your voice. "I told you you could do it! Just imagine what you could do in the race from there."

Now, as the race unfolds, you find yourself alternating between cheering out loud and holding your breath. When he crosses the finish line in third place, you leap off the couch, screaming in joy. His first podium and in just his 14th race.

You watch the podium ceremony with tears in your eyes, your heart swelling with pride as Oscar stands there, beaming, champagne in hand next to Max and Lando. It's a moment you've both dreamed about for so long.

It was killing you not to be there.

Hours pass, and you know Oscar must be caught up in team celebrations and media obligations. You're itching to talk to him, but you don't want to interrupt. Finally, just as you're considering going to bed, your phone rings.

"Hey, podium finisher," you answer, unable to keep the smile out of your voice.

"Hey yourself," Oscar replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. "Sorry it took so long to call. It's been absolutely crazy here."

"Don't apologize! I'm just so incredibly proud of you, Oscar. You were amazing out there. Your first podium, it's a dream come true."

There's a moment of silence, and when Oscar speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "I just wish you could have been here. It doesn't feel quite complete without you."

"I know," you say softly. "I wish I could have been there too. But hey, this is just the first of many podiums, right? I'll be there for the next one."

"You bet it is," Oscar chuckles, "And you better be, I need someone to help me wash all this champagne out of my hair."

You laugh, feeling a mix of joy and longing. "I love you, Oscar. Enjoy your celebrations. You've earned it."

"I love you too," he replies warmly, "And I miss you, we have some celebration on our own to do."

October 8th, 2023. Qatar Grand Prix.

The heat in Qatar is suffocating, but the excitement in the air is even more intense. You're back in the paddock, determined not to miss another milestone in Oscar's career. Yesterday's sprint shootout had been a nail-biter, with Oscar securing pole position for the sprint race by mere hundredths of a second.

As the short-format race begins, you hold your breath. Oscar gets a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. As the final lap approaches, the McLaren garage is in shambles.

When Oscar crosses the finish line in first place, the explosion of joy is deafening. You're jumping up and down, tears streaming down your face as you watch him punch the air in triumph. He's done it - his first ever Formula 1 race win.

As Oscar pulls into parc fermé, you can see the emotion on his face even through his helmet. When he finally removes it, his smile is brighter than the Qatari sun. The team swarms him, and you hang back, letting him soak in this moment with the people who've worked so hard to make this possible.

When he finally breaks free and spots you, his face lights up even more. He rushes over, sweeping you into a tight embrace.

"You did it!" you exclaim, your voice muffled against his race suit. "Your first win, Oscar! I'm so proud of you!"

Oscar pulls back, his eyes shining with. "We did it," he corrects you, just as he did after Silverstone.

You laugh, wiping away happy tears. "Well this is just the beginning. Next stop, Grand Prix victory."

May 5, 2024. Miami Grand Prix.

The air in Oscar's driver's room is heavy with disappointment. You watch as he paces back and forth, still in his race suit, his face a mixture of frustration and barely contained anger.

The race had started so promisingly - Oscar had taken the lead early on and was driving beautifully. But then, a collision forced him into an unscheduled pit stop for a new front wing, dropping him down the order and out of contention for a podium finish.

"I had it," Oscar mutters, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I was leading the race, I had the pace. If it wasn't for that idiot..."

You step closer, your heart aching for him. "I know, baby. You were driving amazingly out there."

Oscar stops pacing and looks at you, his eyes filled with disappointment. "It's not fair. We've worked so hard, the car was perfect, and then..."

He trails off, shaking his head. You close the distance between you, gently taking his hands in yours. "Hey, look at me," you say softly.

Oscar meets your gaze, and you can see the vulnerability behind his frustration.

"You're right, it's not fair," you continue. "But that's racing sometimes. What matters is how you come back from this. And you will come back from this, stronger than ever."

"I just... I wanted this so badly."

You pull him into a hug, feeling him slowly relax against you. "I know. And your time will come, Oscar. This doesn't change how talented you are or how hard you've worked. It's just a bump in the road."

May 26th, 2024. Monaco Grand Prix.

The streets of Monaco buzz with anticipation for one the most important races in the Formula 1 calendar. For Oscar, this was his second time racing in Monaco, and the excitement was palpable.

From your spot in the McLaren hospitality suite, you had the perfect view of the circuit. Oscar thought you were back home, watching from the living room, but you couldn't miss this race. You wanted to see him shine on this iconic track.

You had coordinated with the team to keep your presence a surprise. As Oscar has his last quiet moments in his driver room before the preparations started, you sent him a quick text: "Good luck, love. Drive fast, be safe. I'll be cheering you on from home!"

Oscar's response was immediate. "Thanks, babe. I miss you. Wish you were here, but I'll bring home a trophy for you."

You smiled, knowing that he was in for a big surprise.

The race began, and Oscar quickly settled into a rhythm. He defended his P2 position until the checkered flag waved.

The team erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face. It was his third podium finish, and it was in Monaco of all places.

Oscar climbed out of his car, waving to the cheering crowd, his face glowing with joy and relief. As he stood on the podium, spraying champagne and celebrating with Charles and Carlos, you made your way down to the team area.

When the podium celebrations were over, and Oscar was heading back to the garage, you waited for the perfect moment. As he turned the corner, you stepped out, catching his eye.

"Oscar!" you called out, your voice carrying over the noise of the paddock.

He froze, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, a huge grin spreading across his face as he rushed over to you.

"I couldn't miss this. I had to see you race in Monaco," you threw your arms around him, laughing.

Oscar hugged you tightly, lifting you off your feet. "You sneaky little... I can't believe you're here!"

"Congratulations, baby. You were incredible out there," you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

"This... this is amazing. Thank you for being here. It means everything to me."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," you replied, kissing him softly.

July 7th, 2024. British Grand Prix

Oscar had been more motivated than ever. After finishing second the previous week in Austria, he was eager to claim his first Grand Prix victory, and what better place than Silverstone.

He started strong, fighting his way to the front and eventually taking the lead. The team was buzzing with excitement; victory seemed within reach.

But then, disaster struck. A poorly timed pit stop strategy caused Oscar to lose crucial positions. Despite his best efforts, he crossed the finish line in P4. It was his best finish at Silverstone but not the victory he had hoped for.

Later that day back at Oscar's apartment you watched him pace back and forth. He finally stopped and leaned against the window, staring out into the night. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set in frustration. The silence was deafening.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, breaking the silence.

Oscar didn't turn around. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

You stood up and walked over to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're upset. But sometimes talking helps."

He sighed deeply and turned to face you, his eyes filled with frustration and disappointment. "I was leading the race. I could have won. My first victory, right here at Silverstone. And it slipped away because of a stupid strategy call."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It wasn't your fault, Oscar. You drove an amazing race. Everyone saw how talented you are."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I could have won," he said, his voice cracking with frustration. "I've been waiting for this moment my whole life, and it was right there. And now... I don't know when I'll get another chance like this."

You pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his body tense before he finally relaxed against you. "Your time will come. I know it will. You've shown everyone what you're capable of, and there will be other races, other chances. This is just one race in a long career."

Oscar pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I just wanted it so badly. To win here, in front of the home crowd... it would have meant everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And you'll get there. Maybe not today, but soon. And when you do, it'll be even sweeter because of everything you've gone through to get there."

July 21, 2024. Hungary Grand Prix

The Hungaroring buzzed with excitement as the cars lined up on the grid. Oscar, starting from the front row, felt a mixture of determination and nervous energy. As the lights went out, he got a perfect start, pulling away cleanly from the pack.

Lap after lap, Oscar maintained his lead. The team's excitement grew with each passing circuit. This could be it - his first Grand Prix victory.

However, as the race progressed, pit stop strategies began to shake up the order. After a particularly well-timed stop, Lando emerged just ahead of him. The tension in the McLaren garage was palpable.

Soon, team radio crackled to life. Reminding both drivers about strategies, and particularly asking Lando to give the position to Oscar, creating tension both on and off track.

In the final laps, Lando finally relented. He moved slightly wide in a corner, allowing Oscar to slip past. Oscar crossed the finish line first, claiming his maiden Grand Prix victory.

The team erupted in cheers, but the celebration felt somewhat muted. As Oscar climbed out of his car in parc fermé, his face was hard to read.

As you watched Oscar ascend the podium, your heart swelled with pride. Despite the complicated circumstances of his win, seeing him stand on the top step, the Australian national anthem playing in his honor, was a dream come true.

The champagne spray began, and you couldn't help but smile as Oscar, Lando, and Lewis doused each other in celebration. For a moment, the tension seemed to melt away as the three drivers laughed and enjoyed the moment.

As Oscar descended from the podium, his eyes immediately sought you out in the crowd. You managed to catch him just before he was whisked away for interviews.

"Congratulations, champ," you said, pulling him into a quick embrace.

Oscar hugged you tightly, his race suit still damp with champagne. "Thank you for being here," he murmured against your ear.

You pulled back, searching his face. "How are you feeling?"

A flicker of emotion crossed his features. "I'm not sure yet. I need to process everything."

"I understand," you nodded. "Go do your interviews. We'll talk properly later."

Oscar's eyes softened. He glanced around quickly, then leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. "Love you, see you after."

Hours later, after all the media obligations and team debriefs were over, Oscar finally made his way back to the McLaren hospitality area.

As he entered the room, his eyes immediately sought you out. You were there, beaming with pride, and the sight of you seemed to melt away some of his conflicted feelings.

"There's my champion," you said softly as he approached.

Oscar's face broke into a genuine smile, the first one since he'd crossed the finish line. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your neck.

"I did it," he murmured against your skin. "I actually did it."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. "You did. And I am so incredibly proud of you, Oscar."

His eyes searched yours, vulnerability evident in his gaze. "It wasn't exactly how I imagined my first win would be," he admitted.

"I know," you nodded, understanding in your voice. "But that doesn't make it any less of an achievement. You drove brilliantly today, from start to finish."

"I just wish... I wish it had been a clean fight to the end, you know?" Oscar sighed, leaning his forehead against yours, "Without the team orders and all that."

"Hey," you said, making him meet your eyes again. "This is Formula 1. It's rarely ever straightforward. What matters is that you proved yourself out there today. You're a Grand Prix winner now, and no one can take that away from you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "When did you get so wise?"

"Oh, I've always been wise. You're just finally starting to notice," you teased, earning a chuckle from him.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For always being here, for believing in me even when things get complicated."

"Always," you promised, leaning in to kiss him softly.

The kiss deepened, both of you pouring your emotions into it - your pride and joy, his relief and love. When you finally parted, Oscar was smiling more brightly.

"So, Grand Prix winner," you grinned, "ready to go celebrate properly?"

[nerdy-novelist017]

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict  @elizabeth916  @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @dudii4love @ironmooncat  @beebeechaos  @astrogrande  @pearlparty  @themorriganisamonster  @sillylittlethrowaway  @ughdontbeboring  @penwieldingdreamer  @charmingballoon  @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans  @groovyangelkisses  @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit  @pomtherine  @tranquilty  @m00npjm  @twisteduniverse5  @justsomewritingblog  @nhlfs  @thepassionatereader  @rebecca-hvnstn  @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations  @buckysteveloki-me  @simsiddy  @zablife  @sansaorgana  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @charmingballoon  @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey  @cynic-spirit @pomtherine  @ilovehyperfixating  @xcallmetaniax  @lovenewfandoms