#i love all the dog cookies...

[milkbreadtoast]

i havent drawn cookies in a while but i love this lil guy he is so cute to me... basque cheesecake flavor anubis puppy.. w pretty long hair.. (his kr voice is so cedric🤧

[roman-roy-apologist]

i love you animal symbolism

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I don't know if anyone's asked this but do you own any pets?

im surprised you have to ask lmfao - i talk about my cats like! All the Time! they're mentioned in my pinned post, even!

[batsinurbelfrey]

.

[lovereadandwrite]

Asagiri himself said Fyodor gives the most intense, grandest of gifts😌🌝

[axolozzy]

i NEED to draw louie more like i used to draw louie ALLL THE FUCKING TIME and the last time i actually drew them fully colored was in fucking JULY. WHAT????? impossible :( i’m so fucking sorry louie holy shit AAUUUGHHHHHHHH LOUIIEEEEEEEE :((( louie save me louieieieeeee

[mangostar]

got nintendogs + cats… going back to my roots

[note-boom]

Okay so thanks to some random digging through the katai tags, I found out that there is indeed a Kunikida and Katai short story called "Kunikida and Katai's Magnificent Days". Translation and links to other novels can be found here (many thanks to the OP who collected these and the translator).

Anyway, now I'm thinking too much about their friendship dynamic and so I'm sharing some of my favorite moments of the short story below the cut (spoilers in the reacts and the tags)

Me...I would like to live like Katai, thanks.

Can we talk about how Kunikida drove himself and his friend to the ocean on a whim because of his dead eyes? I....

Okay but can we talk about this exception to his ideals on the basis of friendship thing? Sure it's humorous but...hi???

Let's also talk about how Katai supports Kunikida and his fight for ideals and yet still points out how unrealistic they are, kinda like Dazai did. But Katai is WITH him and behind him even if he can't join the fight and that makes me FEEL THINGS.

This explains so much of why Atsushi was considered a bit of an outlier. It does make me wonder what kind of things Kunikida had to witness when it was just Ranpo, Yosano, and Fukuzawa...calling Katai of all people boring compared to them...

THEIR WHOLESOMENESS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME...just look at that?? And below, too...

AHDHRGEJDBRHEHB. Their friendship...the way that they make each other's world a kinder and softer place. Just....I love it and I'm not even joking. Yes, there is shipping and everything but tell me you don't want a pure friendship just like this? An inseparable bond that supports each other even if you can't fully adhere to the other's beliefs and a friendship that makes a harsh reality a place where your ideals and beliefs are worth fighting for (or maybe against).

I'm cry laughing at this because, again, it was JUST Ranpo and Yosano and Fukuzawa along with Katai and Kunikida. I seriously want a prequel novel exploring the kinds of insane shenanigans they went through. And kudos I guess for the female/male friendship portrayed at the end? Sort of? I don't know...he's such a disaster. I want to be Katai.

-

IN CONCLUSION

I love it. Underrated friendship. Literally the most wholesome canon duo, sorry Ranpo and Poe/Ranpo and Yosano/Atsushi and Kyouka. Laughing at how it went from 'guy tries to set up friend on a date' to a discussion on the survival of the fittest philosophy and how it clashes against the illusions of society.

I need more about them

[bunnyb34r]

Well glad to know I'm not the only one not feeling the Christmas season this year. Mom isnt either

Now we dont know why, but here are my guesses. Feel free to place your bets.

Is it:

Bc our aunt/great-aunt died and essentially dissolved the family

|_> Bc of this we've faced so much bullshit from the surviving family we have left.

Bc the only remaining family we have are major assholes aside from like 4 people.

Long covid?

Work stress/ working under a tyrant piece of shit.

Bc I'm an adult now so the *magic* is gone?

All of the above??

[iwillruletheuniverse]

Early saturday morning before falling asleep, dad said the americans had shot down a mystic object over Alaska. He said, ‘‘Ooh what if it is an UFO’‘ and laughed about that. Early sunday morning before falling asleep, dad said that the canadians had shot down a mystical object. He said, ‘‘Probably it is an UFO’‘ and he laughed about it. Early this morning before falling asleep, dad said the americans had shot down a mystic object again. He said, ‘’What if it is UFO’s?’’ and he laughed about it. He also said that it was an american plane that show down the mystic object over Canada, apparently they never give out that special type of airplane.

Ever since he was a child he have been fashinated by UFO’s and aliens and all that stuff. He often talks about one evening many, many years ago and it goes like this; ‘‘I was out late one evening looking after UFO’s as usual and I felt this touch on my leg. I think I jumped two meters. It was my cat who had been missing for a long time. I had declared him dead and there he was, he was so hungry’‘ And yeah, I was also always fashinated by UFO’s. I had wanted to see the monument in Ängelholm for years before we finally went and looked at it 15th of april 2019. Thomas was in Lund then. They had called from Lund just outside the airplane museum but the one who called would call back when she knew more. Just as we reached the UFO monument, dad’s phone called again. Thomas was doing better and the vet said we could go and take him home. Dad would call back when he had talked to us. If only he had said, ‘‘Oh of course. We’re in Ängelholm so it will take a while but we’re coming asap’‘ Mum said, ‘‘It’s my birthday. I don’t want it ruined by going to Lund to pick him up’‘ and I said, ‘‘Of course we have to take him home. He’s scared and he needs me’’ Of course what I said wasn’t important. When we the day after went to Lund to take him home, he seemed scared of me. He had that hospital smell all over his fur when he died in my arms. If only we had went to Lund the day we visited Ängelholm then maybe, maybe he had not died. Not knowing tears me apart. Not knowing shakes the entire building. Not knowing overwhelms me.

[fettuccin-e]

Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[harrysfolklore]

charles leclerc answers the internet’s most searched questions

gif by @countingstars-17 <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"Hi I'm Charles Leclerc and today I'm going to be answering the web's most searched questions about me."

Charles said to the camera, he was wearing his typical media day outfit, a Ferrari half zip up jacket and his baggy jeans, ones that no matter how hard his girlfriend tried to get rid off it was just impossible because he liked them too much.

"First question, what is Charles Leclerc's number?" he read on the iPad the Sky Sports team had given him to read the question, "I hope we are speaking about the driver number, because my girlfriend won't like that people are searching for my phone number on the internet and I'll be very worried if you can find it," the crew laughed at his comment, "But it's number 16."

"What is Charles Leclerc's favorite song?" he read the next question, "I think overall, it's Where is the Love by the Black Eyed Peas, but recently I've been loving Sabrina Carpenter's songs, and that's thanks to my girlfriend."

"Did Charles Leclerc retire?" he couldn't help but let out a laugh at the question, "Are people really asking this question? The answer is no, I'm not that old and I hope I don't look that old. I've still got many years in me I hope."

"Did Charles Leclerc win in Monaco?" a small smile played on his face, "The answer changed just a few weeks ago but yes I did. It was a really special moment, my mum cried, my brothers cried, my girlfriend cried. It was beautiful."

"Did Charles Leclerc adopt Oscar Piastri?," he couldn't help but laugh again, "That answer also changed a few weeks ago and yes I did. He's one of my sons now."

"Does Charles Leclerc speak Italian? Yes I do."

"Does Charles Leclerc have a sister? No I don't."

"Does Charles Leclerc have a girlfriend?" he could feel his cheeks blushing as he read, "Yes I do. And as you can tell, I talk a lot about her, so much that there are compilation videos of me just talking about her, I've seen them."

"Will Charles Leclerc win a championship?" he made a thinking face, "I'm curious to know what Google says about that one, but I'll say yes. At least if I work day and night for that, so I hope it will happen one day."

"Is Charles Leclerc good at cooking?" Charles chuckled. "Well, I like to think I'm decent. I can make a mean pasta and I really enjoy it, but my girlfriend is the real chef in our relationship. She loves baking, and her cookies are the best."

"Can Charles Leclerc play the piano? Well I'm not a pianist but I have enough skill to really enjoy it. So yeah, I can play the piano.

"Does Charles Leclerc have any pets?" he smiled warmly, "Yes, my girlfriend and I have a dog named Leo. He's a an absolute sweetheart. He even comes to some of the race weekends with us."

"What is Charles Leclerc's favorite date night activity?" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow, "Did my girlfriend search that?" the crew laughed, and Charles continued, "If she did, she knows I love our cozy movie nights at home, eating whatever we want and just chilling on the couch."

"Alright, last one," he said, looking back at the iPad, "What does Charles Leclerc do in his free time?" he read, "When I'm not racing or training, I enjoy spending time with my family, friends and my girlfriend of course. I love going to the beach, traveling or just relaxing at home."

He set the iPad down and looked directly into the camera. "Thank you for all the questions! I hope you learned something new about me. Until next time, ciao!"

did i reference my own fic here? anyway i hope you like thisss

[grimallkine]

My idiotic pet's.

[bunnys-kisses]

show-off (simon's version)

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, dirty talk, filthy, missionary, rough sex, mask kink, clothed sex, crying kink

price's version | johnny's version | kyle's version

simon loved his precious girl. he had been calling your "the missus" for months now. the task force was honestly surprised that simon managed to find someone. especially someone so.... cute? innocent? sweet?

the boys remembered one time you went all the way to base with a container full of homemade cookies because simon would be on base during his birthday. you somehow made your way onto base with no proper identification that would allow you on base. somehow you figured it out and ended up surprising simon with it.

so to get a video message in the group chat on a sunny afternoon was a bit of a surprise to price, johnny and kyle. simon never sent videos, he barely sent messages that were more than a word long.

so a lengthy video made the rest of the task force very interested.

"there's the pretty bird." simon cooed. you were all giggles as you tried to shield your face from the camera.

"si, stop it!" you giggled as you felt your cheeks grow hot under the lens of the camera. you were both outside in the backyard.

the task force knew about the high fence that protected the property you called home. even if someone could hear the both of you, it would take a lot for them to see it. the camera panned down to the sight of the skirt of your sundress pushed up to your waist and your panties were around your left ankle.

wasn't simon a gentleman letting you lie out on a checkered blanket. you had a smile on your face as the camera was pointed to you. the sound of simon undoing his belt, it was dropped by your head soon after.

your expression made it clear that simon had taken his cock out, your eyes went wide and the movement of your throat as you swallowed.

"tell the boys what you're lookin' at right now, birdie?" he asked, he let out a soft groan as he started to stroke his lengthy cock. he was situated at about seven and a half inches, almost eight if he was painfully hard.

you replied, "um.. hi, captain price, sergeants mactavish and garrick! i hope you're liking this video!" god you sounded so painfully cute. (by this point johnny had always came once, but he was working himself for a second round). you looked at simon, "it's embarrassing!"

"c'mon. it's nothing they haven't seen before." simon chuckled.

you made a face, "what are you doing when i'm not around?"

simon reached for you with his free hand and rubbed your soft cheek, "i mean in the showers, lovie. no one is takin' me from you."

you pouted, "good."

"now tell the boys what you see. give them a nice visual before i fuck you." simon's voice was soft. soft in a way that the rest of the team didn't even know if it was possible.

you looked up at the camera and held onto the bottom of your dress skirt that was bunched up around your waist. you looked embarrassed as you said, "si is wearing a green t-shirt and camo pants, he has his gloves with the bones on them, and his mask."

"do i look good, lovie?"

you nodded meekly, "you look very good, si!" you blushed more and smiled up at him. he used his free hand to put around your neck delicately, he wasn't choking you, just holding you. you leaned into his touch lovingly.

"but you're prettier, lovin' a dog like me." he laughed as he grabbed you by one hip and shifted your hips up. your cunt rested in his lap up against his cock. he tilted the camera down to get a good look at your glossy pussy.

he rubbed his impressive cock up against your pussy. how could something so big fit inside something so small. it was nothing short of a miracle.

"like that, lovie? like when i film ya for the boys?" simon chuckled as he stroked his cock and tapped it against the top of your pussy, "make ya open up for me."

you whined, "simon!!"

he chuckled lowly before he pressed his cock into your waiting hole. you made a low groaning noise as you clutched into the blanket under you. the wet noises sounded like a dream as you whimpered loudly.

simon kept the camera on your face and bouncing tits as he thrusted against you. the sounds of sex rang through the video as simon pleasured you. of course you looked like a sex goddess, your rightful throne on his cock.

you rolled your hips as he filmed you, his free hand on your bent knee as he moved against you. your cheeks looked warm as you panted heavily. the pleasure coursed through you.

"like what you see, boys?" he asked as he got a close up of your face as it was twisted with pleasure, "pretty little thing." he chuckled.

"si! please!' you whimpered, as you met his thrusts. they weren't extremely fast but they carried power that made your breath get caught in your throat. like he was moving your organs up with each thrust.

simon looked down at you, you couldn't read his expression due to the mask. you hated to admit but the thing was very attractive. it left him so mysterious as he rubbed your knee and held the camera in your face. he watched you with a knowing gaze, he knew what his teammates were thinking right now.

price was probably watching this with his morning coffee, johnny was stroking his cock like it was a lifeline, and kyle was casually watching it, monitoring your every facial expression. regardless the video would be in steady rotation in the task force 141's spank bank.

simon felt a surge of pride in his gut as he continued to fuck your sweet pussy, earning more sweet noises from you. it was adorable, you sounded like a dream to him. you were just the cutest thing ever, he couldn't even put into words how adorable he thought you were.

"pretty girl." his tongue was filthy, "everyone thinks you're the sweetest thing since sugar. but i've seen the damage you can do.' you love how big i am. you always said the bigger the better, even when it stretches your little cunny." you covered your face once more and he chuckled, "show me your face, lovie."

you slowly pulled your hands away and looked at the camera. he made a pleased noise as he continued to fuck you. you felt amazing wrapped around his cock. like a sexual fantasy come to life, it was arousing.

sometimes the arousal in you was so intense that you ended up tearing up. your bottom lip wobbled as he buried his cock into you, his balls gazed your ass as you took every last inch. you wiped your tears but simon only put the camera further in your face to get the best view of his crying little angel.

"poor girl, poor mrs. riley." he purred, "gettin' bullied by her hubby's fat cock."

you whimpered, "please, si." you felt your back arch as your heart thumped in your chest. the back of your sundress stuck to your sweaty back.

simon was a hungry man, a greedy, hungry man. he loved that his teammates are going to get off to the sounds of him fucking you. it wasn't long before the video's stabilization became a little off because simon was nearing his orgasm.

your clothed breasts bounced with each thrust, them almost tumbling out of the front of your sundress, and your tongue peeked out from your mouth as you panted heavily. it was arousing to the point where simon could feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"most beautiful thing ya ever seen." he said as his pace staggered and with a few thrusts, he pushed his cock all the way inside of you.

simon afterwards too his cock out, it was growing soft as he pulled out, a dribble of leftover cum came out.the camera for a brief moment showed your used cunt.

then the video ended. and there was an additional message from simon that read, "this isn't me sharing. i was just showin' off."

[nerdy-novelist017]

Little Bunny (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

First time writing fanfic in years but what can I say? I see Austin Butler smoking a cigarette and giving Bedroom Eyes™️ and I'm suddenly a poet. Enjoy!

Part 2 here

Word Count- 2.7k+

Summary- Being surrounded by loud motorcycles, drunk bikers and hungry eyes was not something you'd ever experienced before. Neither was the intense blue gaze of a certain blonde biker.

*****

You didn’t belong here. That much was obvious. You in your white dress blowing softly around your thighs from the summer’s evening breeze. You in your kitten heels sinking into the mud beneath you. You . . . holding your Tupperware filled with homemade cookies. You felt the eyes of just about every person there burning into you as you walked across the grassy field, trailing slightly behind your friend as she made her way to the picnic benches in the center of what looked to be a makeshift race track. 

This is not at all what you pictured when Kathy had told you last night about a cookout and race she was going to. She had said that it was hosted by one of her friends in a club and that you should come to. You were just going to gently shoot her proposition down, but with one of your New Year's Resolutions being to push yourself to be more outgoing and attempt to break the shy vice that often gripped you tight, you reluctantly agreed. In a pathetic attempt to get the nerves to go away, you were up all night baking, something you found to be therapeutic as it gave your hands a task other than nervously tapping on something. Kathy didn’t specify what kind of club she was in, but she was always friendly and outgoing so you really had no idea what to expect, going in blind. When she made a comment about your choice of heels for the environment, you raised a brow, offering to run back inside to change. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she had said as she grinned at you from behind the wheel. “I think the club is goin’ ta love you.”

Standing here now . . . you would have never guessed this was the kind of club she was a part of. Sure, you noticed how her clothing changed some and she smoked a lot more, but seeing her interact with these bikers was shocking. She was like a different person. No, not different. She was still the same Kathy you had been friends with since 8th grade. She was just more confident now.

“Hey, who’s your new friend, Kathy?” someone called from your left. You glanced over at the many sets of hungry eyes that raked over your body as if they were a pack of wild dogs and you were a small rabbit. Your eyes widened as you looked to your other side to find a crowd gathered there too. “Introduce me to your little friend.”

“Fuck off, Richie,” Kathy called out nonchalantly, not even sparing them a look. You quickened your pace to be right on her heels, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the possibility of being left alone to these people.

“Kathy, I–I don’t think I should be here,” you whispered but if she heard your words, she ignored them. “When you said club, I was expecting a–a book club or something. . .”

“Don’t be silly.” She glanced at you over her shoulder, a smirk capturing her features. “I didn’t think I belonged neither, but look at me now. ’Sides, this club is way more fun than books, trust me.”

Before you could protest anymore, she led you to a table and you nearly collided into her when she stopped abruptly, your eyes still jumping around to the leather jackets and grime covered faces. You move to stand beside her, attempting to grab her arm and signal that you wanted to leave but she didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, she pointed a finger at the man sitting in the middle, legs spread leisurely, cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

“This is Johnny, he runs this club,” she introduced, moving along down the line. “That’s Brucie and his wife Gail. This big dumb idiot is Cockroach.” He throws a beer cap at her but she ducks out of the way. “That’s Cal and Corky behind them. . .”

With each member she introduced, you felt your courage sinking further and further into the ground. They each (including the woman) had an air of intimidation that screamed don’t fuck with me. Their leather jackets and ripped jeans hardened their appearances and you felt extremely out of place with your perfectly curled hair and manicured nails. They looked like people your parents had warned you to stay away from your entire youth. Growing up with difficulty making friends has left you somewhat naive and you’d never been around a crowd like this.  Yet suddenly, here you were, a helpless gazelle tossed directly into the lion’s den. Your heart pounded in your chest and you’re sure every person here can hear it echoing off the metal bikes surrounding you. 

“. . . and that’s Benny,” she finished and nodded in the direction of the person on the furthest left. Your eyes travelled up his long legs which are stretched out over the seat, up to where he’s sitting on the table. Your gaze lingered for a moment over the cigarette smoke pluming from between his lips before finally locking with his, and it took your breath away. It was like all the boys you had ever known in life, the ones you had been out on boring dates with, were just that – boys. This was a man. That was evident in his furrowed brow, his dark and unreadable expression, the way his piercing gaze moved from your face down to your toes and back up again. Trouble, his aura screamed, run far away from me. And you desperately want to grab Kathy’s arm and beg her to take you home, but she’s already moved away, making her way over to a cooler of beers, leaving you standing before them like an offering. You think maybe she had asked you if you wanted one before she left, but it’s hard to hear anything over the pounding of your heart in your ears, and even harder to focus on anything besides not breaking the intense eye contact the blonde in front of you was maintaining. 

“Whatcha got there?” someone from the table in front of you asked and you blinked, snapping back into the present. 

Benny had never seen anything like you. He watched from his seat atop the table as you blinked down at your pink Tupperware bowl. You looked like a doll freshly plucked straight from the box, every hair perfectly in place and not a speck on your pretty dress. The thought of running his hand up your thigh and dipping beneath the hem of that pristine dress, leaving a smudged trail of grease along your clean skin corrupted his mind, setting his teeth on edge with desire. The sun was just beginning to set over your left shoulder casted you in a warm glow that seemed almost ethereal, a picture of innocence and unspoiled charm. Your eyes, almost comically wide, glanced back up to him only for a second before moving to the others to find the owner of that previous question.

“Cookies,” you said so softly that Benny could barely hear you from where he was. And he knew then and there that he was a goner. 

The familiar pop of a motorcycle backfiring echoed through the air and you practically jumped out of your skin at the sound. You were just a little bunny, he mused, a smirk pulling at his lips. In one smooth motion, he pushed himself off the table, flicking the rest of his cigarette butt to the ground and stood to his full height. Driven by a fervor burning deep in his belly, it only took him a few strides before he stood in front of you, close enough to smell the sweet perfume you were wearing, close enough to see the blush tinting your face, close enough to touch you.

“What kind of cookies?” he asked in a low voice, hoping not to scare away this little bunny.

You glanced over your shoulder towards the parked cars and, for a moment, Benny thought you might try to book it, but then you moved your chin back and suddenly you were gracing him with your beautiful gaze again. He noticed the slight tremble of your slim fingers as they removed the lid and held the bowl out in an offer. In that moment, the air seemed to crackle with an unspoken connection, a promise of worlds colliding. No, he’d never seen anything like you.

“They’re chocolate chip,” you replied, eyes fluttering to the middle of his chest to avoid eye-contact. 

He lifted a hand slowly, dipping his head in an attempt to catch your eyes once more. He waited patiently until your gaze fluttered back up to meet his before he raised a brow in question. You gave just the slightest nod, and he dipped his hand into the bowl, retrieving one of your cookies.

You were locked into place, knees weak and head swimming as you watched him bring your cookie up to his lips. You wanted to look away, hell, you wanted to run away. But you couldn’t. You were drowning in his ocean eyes, unable to breathe as he bit into the cookie. Your gaze dropped briefly to his mouth as he swiped at it with the back on his hand, the muscles of his forearm flexing beneath tanned skin.

“Take her for a ride, Benny!” someone shouted from behind him and you suddenly remembered the rest of the group.

“Show her how to ride, Benny!” More egging. You took a hesitant step back, holding the bowl to your chest as if it would somehow deflect their teasing. You peeked around Benny trying to get Kathy’s attention, but she’s already sat down at another table, conversing with a small group of women. The women looked just as mean and tough as the men and you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. You take another step backwards. This was a mistake. You should have never come here. You needed to go home. These people – these animals – would eat you alive. The idea of just walking home crossed your mind briefly. But you were miles from your house, and you weren’t exactly sure where you even were – some farmhouse out on the other side of town. You needed to get Kathy aside to ask her to drive you home. 

“You ever been on a motorcycle before, Little Bunny?” Benny asked you, his voice hushed and almost drowned out by the razzing from behind him.

Your brow furrowed at the nickname. Was he making fun of you? Daring to look into his ruggedly handsome face again, you attempted to read his expression for any signs of malice. Surprised to find something kind swirling in his eyes, your lips parted to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat. “Mm-mm,”

He flashed a glimpse of his white teeth with a secretive smile as he took a step closer. “Can I be your first?”

“What?” Suddenly your mouth felt as though it were filled with cotton. 

He nodded over at the lineup of motorcycles to your left and waited for his question to fully sink in. You tilted your head, wondering if the double inuendo was intentional or if everything that came out of his mouth dripped with an underlying sensuality.

Trouble, trouble, trouble. That word rang out in your head like a siren, attempting to warn you and that’s when you realized that there wasn’t an ocean in his eyes. It was a blazing fire. There was a fire in his eyes and it threatened to burn every complacently comfortable thing inside you, threatened to burn every perfectly built wall surrounding your heart. 

You shook your head. “No, thank you. I don’t like going fast and I know that’s what you . . . bikers do.”

Was that a polite response? You weren’t sure because the smile on his face grew despite the fact that you just declined his offer. Any time you’ve ever rejected a man’s offer, they’d frown, grumble under their breath and walk away. But this man — Benny— just stood there, sliding his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket, tilting his head slightly as he stared down at you with a smile. He was confusing!

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you sidestepped him, quickly approaching the picnic bench Kathy had migrated to. Your cheeks burned as a few members of the crowd whistled. You set the Tupperware bowl on the table and several hands dipped in to retrieve the goods as you planted yourself next to Kathy. 

“Is this a gang?” You whispered to your friend and she laughed into her beer bottle. Since when did she drink beer?

“Gee, that Benny sure is a hunk, huh?” She deflected your question as she raised an eyebrow at you suggestively. 

Feeling his gaze still burning into you, you didn’t risk a glance back at him. “I don’t feel comfortable here, Kathy.”

“Do you want a beer?” She asked as she placed a cold one in front of you. 

“No,” you replied quietly. “Can we go now?”

She sighed. “Alright, fine. Can I finish my beer at least?”

You nodded but your relief was short lived when another biker woman sat down from across Kathy and began talking with her. Agonizing minutes ticked by. You drummed your fingers on the worn wooden table top, watching as Kathy sipped leisurely from her beer. Someone shouted as the racing bikes fired up, startling you. That’s it. 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” you told Kathy and ignored the disappointment on her face as you stood and spun. You halted in your tracks when you find Benny still standing where you left him, still watching you. You kept your head down as you walked past him quickly making your way to the car. 

Weaving in between other cars and motorcycles parked in the far field, you breathed a sigh of relief when you made it to Kathy’s car. Once sitting inside the passenger seat of her pickup truck, you slammed the door shut behind you. Embarrassment burned your core and you groaned as you brought your hands up to cover your face. They probably thought you were some niave girl who was afraid of her own shadow. And you probably were but you clung to the slight relief that you would never have to see any of these people ever again. 

You jumped at the knock on your window. A tall figure stood outside your door and your heart jumped into your throat as you scrambled to roll down the manual window. Benny stooped over and held up your pink Tupperware bowl. 

“You left this.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’d say they were a hit.”

You glanced down at the empty bowl in shock. You had baked two dozen cookies and they were gone within minutes of leaving it on the table. A smile tugged at your lips at the thought of someone appreciating your hard work. “Thank you.”

You reached for the bowl, fingers brushing softly against his. A jolt of electricity traveled up your arm, through your chest before settling hotly in your lower belly. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as he lowered himself to lean against your door, arms resting over the window frame. His eyes roamed over your face as if he were trying to memorize every detail. Your mind struggled to find something to say to him to get him to go away but all thoughts were halted in their tracks as his eyes found yours again. Instinctively, you felt yourself leaning in a little closer to him, your faces only inches apart. 

“Can I at least give you a ride home?” His gravely voice broke through the thick silence. 

“Kathy is—” you started as you glanced over his shoulder to the direction of where you left your friend. Your words died on your tongue as you noticed her surrounded by a small group now, a fresh beer in her hand. 

Your gaze returned to him and you felt heat creep up your neck. “I—I’m wearing a dress though. . .”

“I’ll be sitting in front of you. Nobody will be able to see anything.” 

You fixed him with an incredulous expression before looking away. Silence settled between you again and you waited for him to walk away. Only, he never did. He just . . . waited.

"Are you just going to keep asking?" you griped as you turned to look back at him.

"I like to think of it as more of an offer." There was a teasing undertone laced in his words and you narrowed your eyes at him to keep from smiling.

“I won’t drive fast,” he said softly and your heart fluttered at the gentle promise. 

Trouble. Your head still reminded you even as you found yourself getting hypnotized by the intense blue of his eyes, so close to yours. Despite the sincerity in his eyes, there was still that darkness, that fire that burned through. That burning fire, threatening to cover a dark past. And you could see it, there was a dangerous undertone in that fire. Trouble, and yet you couldn’t hide the smile as your fingers reached to open the door. 

This fire you needed to touch — at least once, just to see how hot it truly burned.