#[ ✧*:･ﾟ INTERACTIONS: BELLE ] TALE AS OLD AS TIME.

[smileysuh]

Big Bear & Bee

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You swallow thickly, leaning back against Johnny while you gain your courage. You know he’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. Turning in his arms, you look up into the bear hybrid's chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

tw/cw. protected sex, multiple positions (girl on top/missionary), pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, bear hybrid x human, fingering, overstim, size kink, big dick!Johnny, pussy stretching, slow burn, mentions of baby/child fever, sex while she wears a dress, etc... I pet names: (hers) bee, princess, gorgeous. (his) John, Big Bear.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.9k

🍭 aus. hybrid, bear/uncle!Johnny, human/honey shop worker!y/n, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. huge thank you to @sehunniepot for helping me through writing this and being my beta reader- Nikki is truly one of my best friends, and if you haven't already checked out her writing, she's got John fics for days - her Olympian Johnny is one of my favorite fics ever 💕

As a bear hybrid, Johnny has been in many honey shops in his life. He’s frequented hole-in-the-wall mama and papa honey selling places. He’s visited corporate brand locations so big and full of different types of honey that they made his head spin. He’s even given a chance to side of the road, farm fresh honey sellers. 

Even with all of this experience, there’s only one place that he’s truly come to love, and that’s Queen B’s Honey Company. 

Nestled between an ice cream parlour and a fifties style salon on an old street on the side of town, near the farming district, Queen B’s has a certain charm that’s always scratched Johnny’s honey itch just right. 

With soft cream coloured walls, and touches of old wood that line the space in shelves and fill the room with various display tables, the store is somewhere between scandi and revitalized farm aesthetic, a style that Johnny adores.

Housing a wide array of honey, in sticks, jars, canisters and tubs, the honey shop has everything a bear like John could ever need, and that’s not even including all the hand made pottery that sits on the top shelves. Plants are speckled here and there, adding a floral scent to the sweetness in the air that’s inherent to the Queen B establishment. 

There’s art too, all somehow relating to honey, and everywhere you look, there’s a recurring theme of bees and bears. 

It’s a tale as old as time - the bears and the bees -  and one that has always immediately brought the hybrid an indescribable sense of peace.

Even with all of this, however, Johnny’s favourite part about the store has to be the kind workers that calmly bustle around, always quick to lend a hand or ask how his day is going. Specifically, you draw Johnny in like no amount of honey ever could, and he’s pleased to arrive at the store once a week to often find you working.

Johnny might be a big shot club owner and entrepreneur by night, but by day - especially in the comfort of Queen B’s - Johnny sees himself as more of a calm dude just trying to support a local business. Despite his attraction to you, he’d hate to put himself out there and make you uncomfortable - at your workplace no less - so in the months he’s been frequenting your establishment, your short interactions have only ever pertained to honey, and he can live with that. 

The front bell chimes softly as Johnny enters Queen B’s, and Johnny meets your smile with a grin of his own. “Good morning!” you call out, a common greeting that still somehow makes his heart beat loudly in his chest.

“Hi,” he nods, breaking your gaze to inspect the front display, where all your store’s new products are laid out like candy in a candy shop for the honey-loving bear hybrid.

He tries to be nonchalant, but as the only person in the store, Johnny knows he’s captured your attention. There are days when he’s one of a handful, and you often take care of those who’ve come before him, only to head his way and ask if there’s anything you can help him find. Today, he has all your attention, and it takes effort for him not to watch you approach.

There’s something about the soft yellow apron that you always wear, or the yellow scrunchies and ribbons in your hair. Your white t-shirt and blue jean ensemble under your work apron is just as much a part of the beautiful colour scheme, and there’s no three colours in the world that Johnny likes together more than cream, honey, and denim blue, especially on you. 

“We’ve got new honey sticks,” you tell him, as you come to join him by the front display. He loves how you know what he normally buys, that you remember him so well. 

“I see that,” he nods, sneaking a glance up at you. “Are they any good?”

You nod. “Very good, at least, I think so.” You begin to tell him where the honey is sourced - from a local apiary - and the way that the honey sticks are naturally flavoured with the seasonal blackberries, raspberries and other such ingredients that grow in the surrounding area, all organic of course. 

Johnny listens, although half of his mind is much more pleasantly occupied watching your lips. The way you speak has always enchanted the bear hybrid, and he’s more than happy to watch you work hard to give him all the information you can.

“Sounds good,” Johnny says when you’re done. “I might just have to get five of each.”

“I can prepare that for you if you’d like to continue looking around,” you smile. “We also restocked the blackberry honey jars from Overgrove Apiary. I know we were out last week and you got something else, so…well, I called our merchandiser over there and got a new batch just yesterday.”

You're a woman after his own heart…and maybe also his money, but Johnny can never tell if your interest in him is beyond that of a professional. 

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” Johnny tells you honestly, watching you begin to collect five of each honey stick into a simple brown paper bag for him. 

“Don’t mention it,” you say softly. “Anything for a regular.”

He wonders again if that’s all he is to you, a regular, and Johnny finds himself putting his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, fiddling with the golden ring on his thumb. “It’s nice to be taken care of,” he says finally.

Your eyes meet, and you’re quick to look away, but the soft smile on your face is enough to make Johnny’s heart race again. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with today? Or just the honey sticks and blackberry jar?” 

“I think this is good for now,” he tells you, following when you immediately turn to head to the till. 

It’s a nice silence as he watches you check everything through the system, and when you give him the total, he pulls out his soft, brown leather wallet from his back pocket. He always pays in cash, and despite the fact that he never asks for change, opting to give you a tip that goes into the tip jar, you still ask if he’d like the coins back.

It’s one of Johnny’s joys of the week to tell you, “keep the change,” as he reaches for his brown paper bag of goodies.

“Can I-” your voice draws his eyes, and he wonders what you might ask him. This is not part of your normal interactions, and he holds his breath waiting to see what might come of it. “Never mind, it’s probably a stupid question.”

“Good thing I like stupid questions,” he assures you, giving you the space to continue.

“I was just-” you take a deep breath. “I’ve looked into certain hybrids like yourself enjoying honey, and Winnie The Pooh always told me that bears like honey, but you can’t always rely on cartoons, can you?” Johnny chuckles at the idea. “As a regular, I was thinking maybe I could ask you about your personal experience with our products?” 

“That’s a good question,” Johnny says, thinking about it for a moment. “You know my affinity for the blackberry honey - I’ve always had a sweet tooth - but in truth, all the honey sticks are for my niece. She’s the real addict in the family.”

“Really?” Your eyes have widened, and Johnny thinks it’s possible you’ve never been prettier than this moment. “I always- I mean, in the months you’ve been coming in, I just always assumed the honey sticks were for you-”

“Easy mistake,” he smiles.  

“You’ve never come in with your niece,” you point out.

Johnny nods, looking around the perfect store. “Yeah. There’s a lot of expensive stuff in here, the pottery, the displays- I didn’t want to bring her in and be a bother so usually I pick stuff up before going to grab her from her school. It’s my day to babysit,” he explains, “and it’s nice to start it off with a little goodie bag.”

He goes to reach for the brown paper bag in question, but you’re quick to pull it away from him. “A goodie bag?” you repeat. “If I'd known this was a goodie bag, I would have put some tissue paper in here-” you’re already reaching under the till, taking out some cream coloured paper with golden spots and bees on it. 

“It’s okay-”

“No,” you insist, “your niece is going to love this, trust me.” You press the fun tissue paper into the bag, and the soft crinkling sound makes Johnny smile. “Maybe a bow too?”

“She really doesn’t need a bow-” 

“Most little girls like bows, Uncle Big Bear,” you tell him, reaching for the yellow ribbons next to the register. But then your hands freeze. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just called you Uncle Big Bear-”

“That’s okay,” he assures you.

“It’s not,” you shake your head, averting your gaze, and Johnny corrects himself from earlier. He’d thought seeing you shocked made you cute, but seeing you flustered makes you even cuter. “That was really unprofessional-”

“Trust me, It’s okay,” he tells you again. “Look, if you really feel bad about it, you can call me Johnny. You can say ‘most little girls like bows, Johnny’ and that will be fine by me. How’s that sound?”

He loves the way your careful hands wrap a pretty bow around one of the bag handles even as you look up at him with shy eyes. “Most little girls like bows, Johnny,” you say, voice quiet.

“Then I’m thankful you’ve given me tissue paper and a bow,” he grins. “Thanks for all of this,” he picks up the finished bag of goodies. 

“You’re welcome,” you nod, biting on your lip. “And Johnny?”

He loves the way his name sounds coming from you. “Yeah?” 

“Please bring your niece in. We’re a hybrid and child-friendly store. I’m sure she’d love it here.”

Johnny takes a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he concedes, giving you one last once over before heading to the door. 

When he picks up his niece from school, she’s ecstatic to receive a new and improved goodie bag, giggling over the cream and gold, bee and polka dot tissue paper. She immediately tears into one of the honey sticks. 

While you’re often on Johnny’s mind after his Queen B visits, today, he can’t get you out of his brain. 

You’re halfway through completing a transaction with an older customer when your favourite regular walks into your store. The sight of him makes you do a double take, because today, he’s not alone.

He’s brought his niece in, just like you’d asked him to. 

At about waist-high next to the gentle giant bear hybrid, the little girl looks absolutely adorable. She’s in a yellow and white polka dot dress, with two sparkly scrunchies keeping her dark hair up in pigtails just behind her large fluffy ears. Her hand is clasped in Johnny’s, and her eyes are full of wonder as she steps into the space.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” you say to the lady you’re helping, quickly finishing up so your attention can return to Johnny. 

His niece is tugging on his hand now, attempting to run up to the display case that’s stocked with all your new honey stick flavours.

“These ones!” the little girl insists. “These are the ones you got me last week!” 

“I know, Winnie, I know,” Johnny smiles, joining the little cub in front of the table of treats. “Your favourite was the peach one, right?”

“Uh huh!” The little girl, Winnie, nods enthusiastically. “But I also liked raspberry, and strawberry, and apple, and cherry-”

“Slow down there, cub,” Johnny laughs, bending down to lift his niece up so she can see the display better. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make your choices, right?”

“Right,” Winnie confirms, nodding solemnly as she gazes down at all the honey sticks. 

“I think we’ll be needing a basket,” Johnny notes. “Can we go grab a basket?”

“Yeah!” Her enthusiasm makes you smile, and you reach under your till to grab something to carry their honey in, approaching the two with a heart that’s currently melting in your chest.

“Welcome to Queen B’s,” you say, drawing both of the bear hybrid’s eyes. “I heard a basket might be in order?” 

You hold it out for Johnny, and he gives you a grateful smile while accepting it. “Yeah, thank you,” he adjusts his niece on his hip. “Winnie, this is y/n, she showed me all these new honey sticks last week and wrapped your goodie bag up in a bow.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” The little girl grins, flashing a toothy smile that shows her sharp canines are just starting to grow in. 

“She loved the bow,” Johnny tells you. “Didn’t you, Winnie?”

“I loved it, see!” She thrusts out her hand, and you find the yellow ribbon wrapped around wrist. 

“That’s very pretty, Winnie,” you smile, also noting her cute yellow nails. She’s a girl who has an obvious favourite colour, and it���s cute in comparison to the neutral blacks and browns Johnny often wears. 

“Is it okay if she chooses her own honey sticks?” Johnny asks, holding his niece closer to the display stand.

“Of course!” You’re a little shocked by how polite Johnny is. Even after telling him you’re a kid-friendly store, he still double checks to make sure he’s not crossing any lines. 

“Did you hear that, Winnie?” Johnny looks down at the cub in his arms. “You can choose which ones you want, but I promised your mom to only get twenty today. Do you think you can count to twenty for me while you grab your treats?”

“Of course I can!” Winnie insists, reaching out her little hand to circle a bunch of the peach flavored honey sticks. When she pulls the treats back to her chest, she begins counting, and Johnny joins in. The first five are easy, but she begins to falter a little at six and seven.

Johnny is as patient as ever, helping her through to ten before he stops her. “Is ten enough, cub? That’s half of twenty, you know.”

“Ten is enough,” Winnie sighs, dropping her chosen sticks into the basket before reaching to return those she won’t keep. 

“What else?” Johnny asks, beginning to bob his niece up and down on his hip as she surveys the options.

“Two raspberry,” she concludes, and Johnny holds her closer to the tin of raspberry sticks. She plucks two out.

“What’s ten plus two?” Johnny questions.

“Uh…” Winnie looks up at her uncle and you watch him mouth the word twelve, which Winnie announces a moment later.

“Good job,” Johnny praises her. “Ten plus two is twelve. Okay, what’s next?”

“Two cherry.”

“What’s twelve plus two?”

“Uh…” again, Johnny mouths the answer, and Winnie declares “fourteen!” which earns her a few coos of admiration and another ‘good job’ that has you practically melting.

You suppose standing and watching the two is somewhat intrusive, so with a nod to Johnny, you step back, busying yourself on a nearby display case that needs some fixing. 

You listen to the bear hybrids count all the way to twenty, and you hear Johnny congratulate Winnie again for counting so high. 

You’d always gotten the vibe that Johnny is a softy, but seeing him in action is something else, and you find it harder and harder to stop the smile from appearing on your face at all his sweet actions.

Instead of approaching the till, Johnny asks Winnie if she wants to see some of the pottery on the walls, and the cub lets out an excited “Yes!” 

“But remember,” Johnny says, voice turning serious as he puts his basket down and adjusts the girl in his arms, hands going onto her waist so he can lift her high enough to see the tall shelves, “keep your paws to yourself.” 

“I promise,” Winnie giggles. “Uncle John! Look! This one’s a beehive!”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Johnny nods.

“Very pretty,” Winnie confirms. 

“Maybe I should get your mom one of these for her birthday,” Johnny says. “Do you think she’d like a honey jar?”

Winnie nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Which one, cub? This one? Or…” he moves over a few feet, showing her another ceramic honey pot, “how about this?”

“They’re all so pretty,” Winnie admits. 

“Well, how about you think about it, and when we come back next week, you can help me choose one. How’s that sound?” 

He truly is a gentle giant, and you find yourself grabbing a few extra honey sticks from a display near the till in preparation for Johnny’s approach.

“Okay, cub,” he says as he carries his niece over, “I’m gonna have to set you down now so I can pay.”

“Okay,” Winnie nods, allowing herself to be placed back on the ground. She tucks in close to Johnny’s leg, looking around the store while Johnny sets the basket next to your till.

“How’s your day going?” Johnny asks, flashing you a smile as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

“It’s going great,” you admit. “I was wondering if you’d actually come in today.” 

“I told you last time, Monday’s the day I babysit.”

“And I told you to bring in your niece,” your eyes dip to the small bear hybrid still clinging to his leg, “I’m very glad you did.”

“Me too,” Johnny smiles. “How much do I owe you?”

You give him the price of his twenty honey sticks, moving them from the basket to a pretty goodie bag you’d prepared. Johnny hands you two bills, and as always, tells you to keep the change.

“Wait,” he says when he watches you put five extra honey sticks into the bag, “I didn’t buy those-”

“They’re on the house,” you assure him. “I understand that your sister made a twenty honey stick cap, but I figured, maybe Winnie will share some with you, so… here are extra ones. They’re a different brand, Overgrove Apiary, and they’re all blackberry, which I know is your favourite.” 

“Wow,” Johnny accepts the goodie bag, immediately handing it off to Winnie, who reaches in to tear a honey stick out. “Thank you, I uh… I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” you assure him. “And by the way, the ice cream parlour next door has a new flavour out. It’s honeycomb.” 

“Honeycomb!?” Winnie is midway through tearing open the stick in her hands, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble with her mother, aren’t you?” Johnny laughs.

“I’d never even think of doing such a thing,” you grin.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Johnny looks you up and down, and you feel your skin heating under his gaze. “Have a good day, y/n.”

“You too, Johnny.”

You’ve been looking forward to Monday all weekend, and when Johnny walks in at 3:30 with Winnie on his shoulders, all the tension from your long day leaves your body. 

“Hi, you two,” you greet them, coming from around the till to give them your full attention. 

“Hi, y/n!” Winnie exclaims, waving enthusiastically at you.

“How’s your day going, cub?” you ask, looking up at the little girl clinging to Johnny’s head.

“It’s okay,” Winnie sighs. 

“That doesn’t sound okay,” you note, reading her body language. 

Your gaze dips to Johnny and he gives you a look. “Some kids were being mean to her in school today,” he confesses. 

“What?” you look to Winnie again. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It wasn’t,” she confirms with another loud sigh. “They were making fun of my ears.”

“But you have such wonderful ears,” you compliment her, frowning at the fact that the world is still full of people who are very much anti-hybrid. 

“That’s what I told her,” Johnny nods. 

“Uncle John wanted to know their names so he could go and gobble them up,” Winnie tells you, flashing a mischievous smile. “But I told him I could handle it. They might not like my ears, but they don’t know how to dress good either, so-” the cub shrugs, “how am I supposed to listen to girls who don’t know how to dress good?”

You find yourself laughing at her sass, nodding along. “That’s a very good point, Winnie. I have to admit, I liked your dress the first time you entered the shop, and I see you’re in an even prettier one today.”

“This one?!” Winnie looks down at the cream coloured poofy dress adorning her form. “Uncle John got it for me for my birthday.”

“Well, he also has an eye for fashion, doesn’t he?” You smile at Johnny, and he grins back at you. 

“He does,” Winnie agrees. “Even though mommy says he should wear dress pants with a button up, I like his t-shirts.”

“I do too,” you nod. You’ve always liked Johnny’s style, the way he can wear a nice pair of dress pants with a casual shirt and sneakers. 

“You guys are too nice to me,” Johnny insists, and you can see the hint of a blush in his pretty complexion. 

“No such thing as too nice,” Winnie insists, “you taught me that, Uncle John.” 

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” he sighs. “Anyways, you remember our mission today, right cub?”

“A honeypot for mommy,” the little girl on his shoulders nods. 

“That’s right,” Johnny begins to move towards the shelves holding ceramics, and you shadow the pair. 

“Is there anything that stood out to you the last time you were here, princess Winnie?” you ask.

The little girl kicks her feet with joy at the new title you’ve given her, and she nods. “The beehive.”

“The beehive,” Johnny repeats with a sigh, and his gaze shifts to you. “Our little Winnie is nothing if not predictable.”

You enjoy the sentiment, the use of the word ‘our’ as if you’re already a part of their little family. You certainly feel connected to the two bear hybrids, although you’ve only really been getting to know Johnny for a short time.

You hope you can get to know them better.

“Is this the beehive honey pot you want?” you ask, pointing at a lovely handmade ceramic on the top shelf. 

“Uh huh, that’s the one,” Winnie nods, playing with Johnny’s ears as she holds onto his head. “Mommy’s going to love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” you agree. “Let me just get the step ladder so I can reach it-”

“No need,” Johnny assures you, stepping forward and reaching up to grab the honey pot. You marvel at how tall he is- “Here,” he holds it out for you, “would you mind taking that to the till while we grab our twenty honey sticks?”

“I don’t mind at all,” you smile, accepting the ceramic and holding it close to your chest.

Johnny helps Winnie off of his shoulders and the two head to the display case that holds your store’s best goodies. You walk over to the till, scanning the price tag of the honey pot and getting it prepared. 

You wrap it in bubble wrap before placing it in a nice gift bag and adding tissue paper to obscure the pot. This is a present after all, and you take your time making it look nice.

You’re just finishing your task when Winnie and Johnny approach holding twenty honey sticks, and they wait patiently while you scan them too.

“Hey Winnie,” Johnny looks down at his niece, “How about you go take a look at that display case over there,” he suggests, “I’m sure there’s some stuff in it you haven’t seen before.”

Winnie looks confused for a moment, but then she shrugs, skipping off to look at the array of jarred honey in a display case a few meters away.

You cock a brow at Johnny while he pulls out his wallet. 

“Listen,” he says, voice low as he pulls out cash, “I know this might be overstepping, and I’m sorry if that’s the case but… I’d really like to take you out some time.”

“Take me out?”

“On a date,” Johnny clarifies. “Again, shoot me down and there will be no hard feelings-”

“I’d love to,” you tell him.

“Really?” He breaks into a smile, and it makes your heart flutter with excitement.

“Really,” you confirm, reaching for a Queen B’s Honey business card. “Let me give you my number,” you say, grabbing a pen to write your digits on the back of the piece of paper. 

When you hand it to Johnny, your fingers brush, and the contact makes your whole body light up with energy. You can tell from the way Johnny looks down at your number, skin flaring a slight pinkish colour, that he has no clue of the effect he has on you. “Thanks,” he mutters, voice cracking. “I’ll uh, give you a call later.”

“Wow, a call, not just a text,” you smile as you take Johnny’s cash, putting it into the register and counting out change. 

“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned,” the bear grins sheepishly at you. 

“I like it,” you confess. “It’s part of your charm.”

“I have charm?” 

“Tons,” you nod. 

“Good to know.” He licks his lips, looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes that have always made you feel like melting into a puddle on the floor. 

Winnie returns to grab her bag of honey sticks, and Johnny gently picks up the present for his sister. “Say goodbye to y/n, Winnie.”

“Goodbye, y/n. See you next week!”

“You better,” you grin. “I’ll be eager to find out how your mom likes her new honeypot.”

“She’ll love it,” Winnie says with the confidence that only a toddler truly possesses. 

You adore her already.

“I’ll call you,” Johnny says again, giving you one last smile as you say goodbye and he turns to leave your store. 

You watch him go, holding Winnie’s hand while the little girl skips along. 

You kind of feel like skipping too.

Old fashioned Johnny is sweeter than the honey your store makes, and he calls you on Monday evening to see if you want to go to a fair on Thursday night. “You’re not scared of heights right? I can take you on the ferris wheel? They do fireworks at nine thirty for the kids but uh, I thought you might like watching them.”

He’s a gentleman, and you agree to all his ideas. 

Waiting until Thursday is something like torture, but you somehow make it to the end of your shift and go home to get dolled up for Johnny. It will be the first time he sees you not in a work outfit, and you want to impress him. 

You’d noted how proud he looked of Winnie’s dress when she’d mentioned he’d bought it for her, and you think Johnny might have a thing for cutesy looks, so you find your sweetest dress. It’s still modest, and when you look in the mirror, you realize you sort of look like one of those cute elementary school teachers you’ve seen in movies. 

Finishing the outfit off with red lipstick, you think it’s a happy medium, after all, you will be at a fair with lots of children running around. 

Johnny picks you up from your house, pulling up next to the curb in an old black muscle car convertible that takes your breath away as you approach.

“Wow,” you whisper, looking between him and the vehicle he’s leaning against.

“I should be saying that to you,” Johnny grins, straightening and holding out his hands. “You look amazing. Can you do a little spin for me?”

You allow him to grab your hand, and he helps you do a twirl that makes your dress dance.

“Perfect,” he tells you. “I’ve always liked your work outfit, but this dress is something else.”

“Really?” you beam up at him, allowing the bear hybrid to pull you to his chest.

“Would I lie to you?”  he asks.

You stare into his eyes, and after a moment’s consideration, you shake your head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You almost think Johnny’s about to kiss you, but then he swallows thickly and turns his head away, looking at the road. “Should we get going?”

“Yes, please.”

He drives a little wilder than the calm persona he exudes when he’s in your shop, and you find yourself giggling as he races down streets. It feels exhilarating to be in a convertible, the warm summer air rushing past.

Johnny grins at you when you laugh, pushing the car even harder to bring you more joy.

You’re already completely dazzled by the bear hybrid by the time you get to the fair, and the night just keeps getting better and better.

He holds your hand as you walk through the crowd, and he even wins you a massive teddy bear at one of the fair games. His baseball skills are no joke, and he easily knocks down all the bottles, triumphantly holding the teddy out to you as his prize.

“For me?” you ask in shock, accepting the toy.

“Of course, everyone needs a Big Bear in their life,” he tells you, and the glint in his smile makes you think you’ve already found yours.

The two of you go on a few rides, with you clinging to Johnny’s side during rough twists and turns. He keeps you and the teddy bear safe, laughing while you scream in delight. It feels like being a kid again. It’s something you’ve never really experienced, being at a fair on a date with a cute guy who seems to want to give you the world.

It’s nine twenty before you even know it, and Johnny leads you to the ferris wheel.

“We should get to the top by the time the fireworks start,” he tells you before pulling out his wallet and stepping close to the teenage boy working the ride. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to give us an extra five minutes at the top.”

“I can do that,” the teenager nods, quickly pocketing the bill before helping you both onto the ferris wheel. “Here, I’ll take care of the bear for you,” he says, as there’s no way you both will fit on the ride with the massive stuffed animal. The seats are for two adults, and Johnny pulls out another five to give to the attendant before sitting next to you.

The bar is secured in place, locking you in next to the bear hybrid who smoothly puts his arm behind you, laying it across the back of the seats. “It’s a nice night,” he tells you.

“A perfect night,” you agree. “I’m so happy you asked me to do this with you.”

“I’m happy you came,” he smiles. “I wasn’t sure if asking you out while you were at work was a good idea, but, I guess after seeing you interact with Winnie, I just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

“Your niece is wonderful,” you breathe. 

“She’s a good cub,” Johnny nods.

“Seeing as we’re going to be on this ride for a while, do you mind if I ask you some questions about yourself? We’ve spent the whole night doing things, and I don’t actually know that much about you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Let's start with what you do for work?” 

Johnny laughs. “Any guesses?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not a nine to five kind of guy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“You dress so well, part of me wants to say you’re involved in fashion or something.”

“Good idea,” Johnny grins, “but unfortunately no, I’m not involved with any fashion work. I think my job is a hard one to guess, so I’ll just tell you. I run a club with a few close friends.”

“You run a club?” you blink at him.

“Don’t look so shocked, Bee,” Johnny smiles, and your heart does flip flops at the new pet name. “It’s a hybrid bar in midtown.”

“A hybrid bar,” you repeat. 

“Humans are allowed in the front section, but we have a back that’s exclusive for hybrids. It’s a safe space for us, and I’m there a lot, especially during the weekends, keeping an eye on things,” he explains. 

“Tell me about the friends you work with?”

“First, there’s Hyuck. He’s a pretty peculiar guy. Then there’s Renjun, and Yuta, he’s a wolf hybrid. But at this point, I’m friends with a lot of the workers too. We have this raven manager, Doyoung, and I love watching him run around like a stressed chicken with his head cut off-” Johnny smiles to himself. “You’ll have to come by sometime and meet them.”

“That would be nice,” you nod. “I mean, you’ve seen me at work so often, it would be interesting to see you in your own element.”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure the club is my element. It’s a good way to make money, and I don’t have to do much- it’s one of the perks of being a part owner. But if I had to choose between your store and the club, I think I’d rather be at the honey shop.” 

“So you can watch me run around like a stressed chicken with my head cut off?” you tease.

“You always seem so put together,” Johnny tells you. 

“That’s because you often show up when no one else is in the store. You should see what it’s like during a Saturday rush.” 

The bear hybrid laughs. “Maybe I’ll have to pop by, then.”

You’re only halfway up the ferris wheel, and you’re a little surprised when a sudden loud pop marks the beginning of the fireworks. You tear your gaze from Johnny, focusing on the blue and green explosion that’s lighting up the dark sky.

“Wow, this view is amazing!” you exclaim.

“It is,” Johnny agrees, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that the charming man hasn’t stopped staring at you just yet. “I knew you’d like it here.”

He adjusts his arm behind you, finally resting his hand casually over your shoulder, and you immediately tuck yourself closer to the bear hybrid. His large body is so warm and comforting, and you enjoy the peaceful quiet that settles over you both as you watch the fireworks.

The ride moves, bringing you closer to the prime spot at the top of the ferris wheel. You can feel yourself getting giddier- you’ve never been on a date like this. Never experienced something this perfect.

“You’re cute,” Johnny says.

“I am?” You look at the bear hybrid next to you.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “The way your eyes light up when you’re watching the fireworks- I’ve never seen anything prettier.”

“Stop, you’re such a charmer,” you blush, hiding your face against the crook of his neck. 

“Just being honest,” he tells you, stroking your shoulder. 

The ride begins to move again, and you pull away from Johnny to marvel at the view again. 

From the top of the ferris wheel, you can see everything. The whole fairground is laid out below you, twinkling and brilliant. The fireworks are dazzling, filling the sky with colourful explosions.

You turn to Johnny and something comes over you. You want to say thank you, but the words themselves won’t suffice, so instead, you lean close, pressing your lips to his cheek. Johnny practically freezes, and when you pull away, you see a red lipstick stain on his skin.

Johnny turns his head to look at you, gaze darting down to your mouth-

Again, you’re hit with a surge of confidence, and this time, when you lean in, it’s not his cheek you’re aiming for. 

Johnny’s lips are soft, gentle against your own, and then his hand comes up to cup your face. You don’t want to pull away. You can tell he doesn’t want you to either. His mouth parts, tongue gently teasing your bottom lip, and you let him deepen the kiss.

Your body is tingling with energy as you lean closer to him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. When your own tongue darts out to taste him, the bear hybrid lets out a groan, and you mirror it with a pleasured sound of your own. 

A loud bang makes you jump a little in his embrace, and Johnny smiles against your lips, releasing your face so you can turn to admire the large firework that’s just been set off.

“John,” you breathe, “this is perfect.”

“It’s how I wanted our first kiss to be,” he muses. “As much as I wanted to kiss you when I picked you up, I knew waiting would have its rewards.”

So he wanted to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him, and the thought has your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

You can’t help but press your lips to his again, smiling into the kiss while Johnny tugs you closer. His free hand slips down to your thigh, and you moan at how good it feels.

It’s shocking how just kissing Johnny is already doing so much to your body- as if some primal instinct is taking over. 

You’re not sure how long you remain lip locked, but when the ride jolts into motion again, you break the kiss, laughing a little as you bury your face against his neck. 

The bear hybrid holds you tighter, and you remain in his embrace for the rest of the ride. 

When you reach the ground again, Johnny holds out a hand and helps you out of your seat. The teenage ride attendant gives Johnny the bear stuffie, and he carries it for you as you walk through the fairgrounds towards his car.

You’re amazed with how comfortable you are with Johnny, and the ride home is filled with as many speed fueled giggles as your drive to the fairground had been.

When you reach your house, Johnny even walks you to the door. 

You kiss him again, loving the way that his size dwarfs your own. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, not wanting to let go. But all good nights must come to an end, and after a long makeout session, you finally pull away to catch your breath.

“When can I see you again?” Johnny asks.

“Monday?” you suggest. 

“With Winnie?” The bear hybrid laughs. “Are you sure you’re not using me to get to my niece?” 

You grin, enjoying his playful banter. “I was just thinking that you said you work most evenings on the weekend, and I work during the day, so our schedules are conflicting.”

“Right, yeah,” Johnny nods. “What are you doing Tuesday, after work?” 

“You tell me.”

“Movies,” Johnny states. “I want to take you to the movies.”

“Is there anything good showing?”

“Probably,” he shrugs. “I figure anything will be good if you’re there with me.”

He’s such a sweet talker, and you give him a kiss, thanking him for the lovely evening. “I’ll see you Monday, John.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Why are you rushing, Uncle John?” Winnie asks as Johnny speeds down the street after picking her up from school.

“No reason,” he says, although it's partially a lie. 

He’s excited to see you, even if it’s just for a short interaction while Winnie gets her honey fix. However, his niece is right, Johnny is going a little too fast, and it’s almost torture for him to slow down. 

He all but hops out of the car when he parks in front of your shop, opening the back door for Winnie to exit the vehicle as well. They enter Queen B’s Honey with enthusiasm, although the cause of that enthusiasm is very different.

Winnie goes straight for the honey stick display, but Johnny’s much more focused on you. You’re restocking a few honey jars on a top shelf, wobbling a little on your stepping stool, and the bear hybrid is quick to rush to your aid.

“Hey there,” he breathes, steadying a hand on your waist. “Carefull, Bee.”

“Oh, hi, John,” you grin down at him. 

“Hi, yourself,” he smiles, watching you put the last jar in its place.

You turn, resting your hands on his shoulders as you step down to the floor, and Johnny loves the way you’re so much shorter than he is. He could just eat you up-

“Hi, Winnie!” You wave at his niece over his shoulder.

“Hi!” she calls back, and when Johnny turns, he sees his little cub is already reaching to grab a few peach honey sticks from their jar. She’s occupied, and it gives Johnny the chance to talk to you one on one a little, something he’s very grateful for.

“How was your weekend?” he asks.

“Busy,” you laugh. “You?”

“Busy,” he grins. “Was thinking about you a lot.”

“You were, were you?” There’s a twinkle in your eye, and it all but bewitches the bear hybrid who still has a hand on your hip. “Did I really leave that good of an impression?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he confesses. “Were you thinking about me too?”

“More than I care to say,” you nod. 

“Are we still on for that movie tomorrow?” 

“Of course, unless you’ve changed your mind-”

“Never.” 

“Uncle John!” Winnie’s voice snaps Johnny out of his daze, and he tears his gaze from your lips to look at his niece.

“Yeah, cub?”

“I can’t reach the cherry honey!”

“Oh no,” Johnny says in an animated fashion, letting go of your waist to go help Winnie. “We can’t have that, can we?” He lifts his niece up, helping her grab a handful of honey sticks. “Woah there cub, how many of these have you got already?”

“Just a few,” she insists, adding her new goodies to a hand already holding a large number of peach sticks.

“Just a few,” Johnny chuckles. It’s obvious that Winnie has forgotten her candy cap. “Can you count to twenty for me?” 

“Just twenty?” Winnie whines. 

“You know we’ll both get in trouble with your mom if you have any more than that.”

Winnie sighs with exasperation, putting a few of the cherry sticks back in their jar. 

“There we go,” Johnny grins. “Just peach and cherry today?”

“They’re my favourites,” Winnie insists. 

It’s a shame that his little cub doesn’t take longer choosing honey, as it means there’s less time with you, but Johnny also supposes that he shouldn’t be monopolizing on goodie time. He’ll get to see you tomorrow, even though it pains him to head to the till and say goodbye to you so soon.

“Have a wonderful day, you two,” you grin.

“We will,” Johnny promises. His day is already fantastic now that he’s seen you, and he’ll carry the memory of helping you off that stool for many hours to come. “Don’t work too hard.”

“No promises,” you wink. 

God, you’re perfect.

“Don’t be mad,” Johnny says, which is not a great start to a call thirty minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up for your date, “but when Winnie heard I was going to the theater with you, she insisted on coming because there’s this new Disney movie that’s showing, and her mom jumped at the idea to have her own date night-”

You listen to the bear hybrid ramble with a smile on your face, and when he finishes, he asks you if you’re okay with Winnie tagging along. “I’d love for her to join us,” you tell him. “You know I adore Winnie.”

Johnny lets out a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, you are. Very perfect. Thanks for understanding.”

Half an hour later Johnny’s at your door, but he’s not in the convertible muscle car. Instead, an SUV is waiting on the curb, and you see Winnie waving at you frantically through the window.

“You look amazing,” Johnny breathes, taking in your dress with a smile.

“You clean up well too, John,” you smile, enjoying the brown checkered pants and white shirt he’s wearing. 

“I’m sorry about this-”

“Don’t be,” you assure him. “As I said on the phone, I’m happy for the little cub to join.”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “This was supposed to be a date-”

“It can still be a date,” you tell him, and you truly mean it.

It’s obvious to you that Winnie is a big part of Johnny’s life, and if you’re going to be part of his world too, it only makes sense for you to embrace his family. 

When you get into the car, Winnie is quick to say hello, and she’s practically bouncing in her seat in the back of the vehicle. “It is you!” she exclaims. “Uncle John told me you’d be coming, but I didn’t really believe him!”

“No?” you smile. “Why’s that, cub?”

“Because you’re a princess, and he’s just Uncle John!”

“Ouch,” Johnny laughs, slipping behind the wheel. “That hurts, Win.” He turns the key in the ignition, casting a glance at you. “Do we all have our seatbelts on?”

“Yes, John,” you smile, and your sentiment is echoed by Winnie in the back, “of course, Uuncle John!”

“Why?” he presses, looking over his shoulder at the child in the back seat.

“Because safety is the most important thing!” she all but yells, and you think this must be something of a ritual for the two of them. It’s sweet, and it makes you fall even harder for the bear hybrid.

“Can we turn on my music?” Winnie asks next.

“Of course, cub,” Johnny nods, reaching for the center console, fingers pausing over the play button. “That is, if Miss Bee doesn’t mind the Lion King soundtrack.”

“Not at all,” you assure him. 

Music fills the car a moment later, as does Winnie’s high pitched singing voice. When it reaches the chorus of the song, even Johnny joins in, and you wonder how many times he’s listened to this sound track with his niece.

It’s a soft experience, and one you savor every second of as Johnny drives you to the theater. 

Winnie insists on walking between you and Johnny when she exits the car, holding both of your hands and doing little jumps that force you and her uncle to lift her off the ground while she giggles. 

Once inside, you wait in the concession line and Winnie tells you all about the movie you’re going to see. She’s a massive Disney fan, and you enjoy listening to her talk. You catch Johnny staring at you a few times, and he always flashes you a smile when you meet his eyes.

Johnny gets a large popcorn with extra butter, and when he hands it to Winnie, she notes, “This is as big as me!” 

In the theater, Johnny’s adorable niece once again insists on sitting in the middle, and Johnny lets out a small sigh but doesn’t argue with his niece. When you take your seats, however, his arm immediately goes along the back of the chairs, and his fingers find the back of your neck, gently stroking your skin.

He smiles at you when you turn to look at him, giving you a small wink before he entertains Winnie with a discussion on what colour his tail would be if he was a mermaid. Winnie decides hers would be yellow, and when Johnny says his would be green, she insists his would be brown because he’s a brown bear hybrid.

“Does that make you a yellow bear?” Johnny questions teasingly.

“A honey bear,” Winnie corrects. “And Miss Bee would be pink.”

“Really?” Johnny’s brows raise. “And why’s that, cub?”

“Because she has a pretty pink soul,” the child smiles, looking up at you. “And also, your dress is pink, and I like it.”

“Thank you, Winnie, I like your dress too.” 

Winnie kicks her feet happily and Johnny rubs his thumb along the back of your neck in small, warm circles. 

The lights dim, the movie starts, and you find that you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. It’s nice to have Johnny’s gentle touch, a constant reminder that - although you’re here with his niece - he’s still doing his best to be attentive to you.

The film flies by, and before you know it, the three of you are exiting the theater. Winnie is dragging her feet, obviously exhausted from a long day at school and an evening movie, so Johnny picks her up, holding her tight to his chest while she wraps her legs around his waist and all but passes out on his shoulder.

At the car, you help Johnny put Winnie into the back seat, and when he closes the door, he turns to you. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Stop thanking me,” you smile. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” His hands find your waist, and he tugs you closer- only for his phone to ring. 

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, the first swear word you’ve heard from him. “One sec, it’s my sister.”

He answers the call, assuring Winnie’s mom that the movie went well and they’ll be home soon. When he hangs up, Johnny tugs you to his chest again, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

He seems reluctant to let you go, but he opens your car door for you all the same, shutting it gently behind you once you’re tucked inside.

The drive home is quiet, as Winnie has fully passed out in the back seat. Johnny’s hand is on your thigh, and you place your own on top of his, playing with his fingers. 

When you reach your house, Johnny exits the car to walk you to your door, where he kisses you, cupping your face and taking your breath away. 

“I want to see you again,” he says, still holding you close.

“I’d love that.”

“How about Thursday? The club usually isn’t that busy on Thursdays. You could come meet a few of my friends.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I think I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Johnny leans in to kiss you again, and as much as you’d love to melt against him, you’re very aware that Winnie’s mom is waiting for her back home.

“Drive safe, please,” you say when you finally pull away.

“I always do.”

You laugh. “That’s debatable.” 

“You just don’t trust my driving skills yet,” Johnny insists.

Before you can stop him, he gives you one final kiss goodbye, and when you watch him turn to walk back to his car, you find yourself wishing he didn’t have to leave.

On Thursday night, you face the dilemma of figuring out what to wear for your date with Johnny. The past two experiences had been fairly classic, with a fair adventure and a trip to the movies, both perfectly suitable locations to wear a cute dress. But tonight, you’re going to a club and you wonder how that should affect your clothing choice.

After much contemplation, and about ten different outfit try-ons, you decide to stick with your usual baby doll style. Johnny seems to like it when you dress cute for him, and you’re banking on the fact that the bear hybrid likes you for you, as opposed to the girls who frequent his club in all forms of scandalous attire. 

You’re feeling a little anxious about visiting a hybrid bar, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s not that you personally have anything against hybrids, you’re just used to only being around one or two at a time. 

You suppose maybe this is how Johnny feels, being a hybrid in a human dominant world, and the thought makes you a little sad. He always gives off such an air of ease and calmness, as if he doesn’t have a bother in the world. You wonder what adversities he’s had to overcome to get to that mentality, or if he was simply born that way.

Before you know it, Johnny’s picking you up. The convertible muscle car is back, and you take a moment to appreciate him leaning against it on the curb.

He’s dressed up tonight, more so than usual. His dress pants are paired with a button up, and its black silky material is soft to the touch when he pulls you to his chest for a kiss. “You look perfect,” he tells you, pinching at your chin and looking you up and down. “My perfect little honey bee doll.”

“I’m happy you like my dress,” you grin, swaying your hips so the skirt picks up.

Johnny grabs your hand, giving you the space to help you twirl while he lets out a whistle of appreciation. “I always like your dresses,” he admits. “I like your jeans and white t-shirt work outfits, but, I mean…when you walked out on our first date in a dress, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Good, I can’t take my eyes off of you either.” 

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into one last kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you inside. 

The ride is a peaceful one. He asks about your day, tells you about his own, and before you know it, you’re pulling up in front of his club. “You ready to meet my friends, gorgeous?” he asks, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before exiting the car. 

When you enter the club, with Johnny’s hand securely on the small of your back, it feels like any other bar you’ve been to. The staff are mostly hybrids, but you notice a few humans dressed  in black too. 

“It’s nice in here,” you tell him, beaming up at the man who makes you so eager to please.

“If you like this, wait till you see the back room,” Johnny grins, leading you past the bar. 

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “Didn’t you mention that the back is hybrid exclusive? Are you sure we should be going back there?”

“You have a good memory,” the bear nods. “It’s hybrid exclusive, but I'm a part owner, so I figure I can do what I want. Besides, this front section doesn’t have a VIP seating area, and my friends prefer to be in places where people can’t overhear us.”

“Are you planning on giving me some trade secrets, John?” You cock a brow and the bear hybrid laughs.

“Something like that.” 

You reach the back door, where a bunny hybrid looks you up and down, his large, floppy ears twitching before his gaze shifts to Johnny. “Yuta said you’d be coming in tonight.”

You notice a puppy hybrid of sorts standing a few feet to the side, and his beautiful face is unreadable, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Of course he did,” Johnny smiles at the bunny. “There’s not much Yuta can keep from you, is there, Markie?”

The bunny hybrid’s cheeks flare a cute shade of pink and he lets out a cough. “He’s uh… he’s waiting for you in VIP. Hyuck’s there too.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Johnny says, applying a small amount of pressure onto your lower back which prompts you to step past Mark and through the open doorway. 

Johnny was right about the hybrid exclusive section being nicer than the front, and you hurry to take it all in with your eyes. As you scan the space, it’s hard not to notice a few looks you get from people within the room.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re with Johnny, or because you’re a human, but when your eyes catch the gaze of a man behind the bar with large, black raven wings, you get the feeling that it might be the latter. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” you ask, tucking closer to Johnny’s side. 

“Definitely,” Johnny nods, leading you toward a set of stairs that leads to the VIP section. “Especially up here.” He takes your hand as you ascend, and you see a booth with two men sitting in it. 

One has white hair to match his ashy wolf ears, and you think this must be the Yuta that Johnny has mentioned to you. The other man has his back to you, and you don’t see any obvious hybrid markings.

Johnny hadn’t mentioned much about this ‘Hyuck’ friend of his, other than him being peculiar, and you begin to wonder if Hyuck might be human like you. It would definitely make you feel more comfortable.

“Hey, guys,” Johnny greets his friends as you come to a stop in front of the table. “How’s it going?”

Both the men turn to look at you, and like the hybrids at the door, their gaze shifts down and then back up. The wolf is the first to stand, pulling out of the booth to shake your hand.

“I’m Yuta, and you must be the honey girl,” he flashes you a smile complete with sharp canines that glint in the light. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“You have?” 

“Johnny has been talking about you for months,” Hyuck breathes, but he doesn’t stand. “It was good to hear he finally grew some balls-”

“Hyuck,” Johnny groans, a warning in his tone. “Be nice.”

“You love bears probably want to sit next to each other,” Yuta says, slipping into the booth next to his friend and giving you the other side of the bench.

“Thanks,” Johnny nods, allowing you to sit first before he moves next to you, his arm immediately taking its place behind your shoulders. “Have you two been here long?”

Hyuck shakes his head, playing with the glass of amber liquid in front of him, but it’s Yuta who speaks. “Not long,” he assures you both, obviously the more talkative of the two. “Hyuck was here before me though, something about fucking his girlfriend in the staff bathroom-”

Hyuck grins mischievously and you wonder if this is a common occurrence for him.

“Does your girlfriend work here?” you ask, hoping to get into Hyuck’s good graces.

“Yeah,” his gaze shifts to the dance floor below. “She’s the sexy little bunny running around in that cute black dress.”

“She’s very pretty,” you smile.

“It runs in her family,” Yuta comments.

You’re confused for a moment before Johnny is leaning in close to your ear, “the bunny at the door, Mark, is her brother.”

“Oh,” you blink as you look at the men in front of you. “So you’re dating siblings?”

“I wouldn’t call what Yuta does with Mark dating-” Hyuck grins, earning an elbow in the ribs from the wolf on his side. 

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “They’re both being very bad club owners, if you ask me.”

To be fair, both Yuta and Hyuck seem like the types to date their workers, but you suppose you shouldn’t hold that against them. These are Johnny’s friends, and you’re not about to start judging them now.

“So, Hyuck,” you look at the man across from you. “I can’t help but notice you don’t have any uh… any hybrid marks? Let me know if I’m being too forward, but are you human, or?”

Hyuck scoffs. “Definitely not.”

“And before you ask,” Yuta buts in, “his hybrid type is classified information.” The wolf flashes you a wink, and you suppose you should drop the topic. However, you can’t help the pang of anxiety that clutches your heart when you realize you truly are the only human in this back room.

“Johnny,” you look at the bear sitting next to you. “Are you really sure I should be here?”

“It’s fine-” Johnny goes to assure you again, but you can tell from the darkening of Hyuck’s gaze that maybe he doesn’t agree. 

Before you can say anything else, Hyuck’s bunny hybrid girlfriend shows up. She smiles at Johnny, asking if he wants the usual, but when her eyes move to you, and you see her nose do a small wiggle, you realize she’s clocking you as a human. 

“And what can I get your friend?” the bunny asks, and you’re thankful that she’s still being polite to you, but you can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Actually, I think maybe I need some air,” you admit, taking a deep breath. 

You suddenly feel very claustrophobic, and it might have to do with being surrounded by predatory hybrids. You don’t know what Hyuck is, exactly, but you’re sure he’s something big, because he acts like he’s got the biggest cock in the room. 

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks, standing up from the booth to give you the space to escape your seat.

“Yeah, I just need to go outside for a moment,” you shake your head, turning to apologize to his friends before moving past the bunny hybrid and walking back down the stairs.

You can hear Johnny following you, but you’re in something of a rush as you weave through hybrids staring you down on the dance floor. When you get to the door leading to the front section, Mark stops you with a hand on your forearm. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, thank you-”

Johnny appears behind you, taking control of the situation as he tells Mark, “She just needs some air.”

The bunny hybrid lets you go, and you scurry to the front door, finally making your escape onto the street where you feel like you can finally take a breath.

Johnny stands two feet away from you, watching you with an empathetic expression. He gives you time to take a few deep inhales before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. 

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably overreacting-”

“You’re not,” he assures you, cupping your face and giving you a soft smile. 

“I just… I feel like… everyone should have a safe space, you know? And I worry that, as a human, being in that back section was sort of like… invading the sanctity of your hybrid only zone. I’m really sorry, John, but I’m not sure if I can go back in there.”

“That’s okay,” he nods. “Maybe I was being…” he searches for the word, “presumptuous tonight. I wanted you to meet my friends, but I didn’t think too hard about how you might feel in that environment. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry-” 

“Well we can’t both be sorry,” Johnny grins. “So maybe neither of us should be. Maybe tonight just didn’t work out, but that’s okay.”

“Really?” Relief floods your system as you look up into Johnny’s soft brown eyes.

“Really,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you say about going somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else?”

“How about my place?” he suggests. “I was planning on inviting you after this, but we could go there now if you want. No pressure though.”

You take a deep breath before you find yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” His thumb smooths by your cheek. 

“Do you have to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends? I feel bad about making them come down here to meet me only to run away-”

“Trust me, those two would be here watching their bunnies even if we didn’t come out tonight. I’ll just send them a text and explain the situation. We can always meet them another night, at another bar.”

“And you’re sure they won’t hate me?”

“I don’t think anyone could ever hate you, Bee. You’re much too sweet for that kind of reaction.” Johnny smiles. “In fact, I bet Hyuck will be impressed.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you care so much about the sanctity of the hybrid zone. Much more than I do.” 

“You really think your friends will be alright?”

“Without a doubt.” He leans down to press another sweet kiss to your lips, but this one lingers. When he finally pulls away, you’re left wanting more, but he’s already reaching behind himself to open the door to his car for you. “Let’s go, gorgeous. My house is nicer than this place anyways.”

Johnny’s right about his house, it’s much nicer than the club. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he’s got a place just out of town, nestled amongst the trees of the forest. It’s a sleek place to live, and you admire the wood detailing of the upgraded cabin like exterior.

“This is a big house,” you muse, as you follow Johnny up the stone steps. 

“Too big for me, I think,” he admits. “But it was one of the only places I could find with acreage in the forest, and I wanted a space that felt like home, you know? Winnie loves it here, some nights she sleeps over and we have a fire in the back with s’mores, other days I take her on some of the hiking trails- my land connects with the national forest, and we’ve got easy access to one of the better hiking paths in the park.”

Your heart melts a little. You know Johnny is a fabulous uncle, but you hadn’t realized the true extent of it. 

“I love how close you are with Winnie,” you admit. “It can be rare to find a single guy who’s so doting on his younger family members.”

“Then I’m glad we found each other,” Johnny grins. “I’ve had ex’s in the past who would get mad about the time I spend with Winnie, but not you. I really did appreciate how well you took her date crashing that other night.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem. I had a wonderful time.” 

Johnny flashes you a grin as he lets you into his house, and you marvel at the interior being as lovely as the outside had been. 

“Wow…it feels even bigger inside,” you note. “Will you give me a tour?”

“Of course,” Johnny tosses his keys down on an entryway table, grabbing your hand to begin showing you around. 

The lower level has a state of the art kitchen with french doors that open to the outside deck, and Johnny tells you about the barbecues he hosts here. “We even had a family reunion out back two years ago,” he admits. “I’ve got extra rooms, so my grandparents stayed here, and a few of my aunts and uncles- it was a really good time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful reunion,” you smile, enjoying how deep his love for family truly runs.

There’s a large dining room, and a living room with glass windows giving views to the forest. In the corner there’s even a toy chest, and Johnny explains how he bought so many things for Winnie through the years that he just started keeping some at his own house for the time she’d be here with him.

You love that he’s not a man afraid to share his space with a six year old, even if the toy chest does stand out amongst the other furnishings. 

The second level is where the bedrooms are, and Johnny lets you peek into Winnie’s room, where there are even more toys overflowing in baskets. 

Two more guest bedrooms brings the grand total of sleeping locations to a whopping four, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s on your mind. “Do you think you’d ever want to raise a family here? You’ve got more than enough space for it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny nods. “Some days, when I’m here alone, I think about how much nicer it would be to have a few of my own cubs running around…” he licks his lips, pausing to look at you. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about whether or not you’d want to have kids.”

“But I’m sure you can guess my answer,” you smile.

Johnny nods, grinning. “I bet you’d love to be a mom, and you’d be good at it, too.”

“Thank you,” you feel heat rising in your skin. “I guess my affection for kids is hard to hide, huh?”

“It’s sweet,” he tells you, “just another one of those perfect attributes of yours.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you melt against him, enjoying the warmth of his body. 

When Johnny moves away, you’re in something of a daze, and you blink up at him. 

“Saved the best room for last,” he tells you, reaching down to take your hand and lead you down the hallway to the final door. 

His room truly is the most impressive of them all, a master bedroom if you’ve ever seen one. With floor to ceiling windows along an entire wall, and a large space fitting a bed as well as a seating area, tv and fireplace, you think you could be very satisfied spending a lot of time here.

“Wow, John,” you let out a breath. “I can’t believe this is real, I can’t believe you actually live here-”

“So you like it?” he questions, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder. “My bear cave?”

“If this is a cave, I never want to go back to a real house,” you laugh. 

“I might hold you to that,” Johnny says, voice low.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of being in his embrace. And that’s when you feel something hard beginning to press against your bum.

You swallow thickly, leaning back against him while you gain your courage. You know Johnny’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. 

Turning in his arms, you look up into Johnny’s chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

You can definitely feel the outline of his cock against your abdomen now, and his hands reach down to find your hips, anchoring you to the front of his body while his tongue glides against your own.

“John,” you moan when his lips move to your neck, “I need you.” 

“Yeah?” His tongue grazes your sweet spot and you shiver in his embrace, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him. 

“More than I’ve ever needed anything,” you tell him, meaning it with all of your heart.

With a groan, Johnny reaches down, grabbing your ass and prompting you to jump so you can wrap your legs around his hips. In just a few steps, he can lower you to his bed, and you expect him to follow, to press you against the mattress with his large body-

But instead, he pulls away, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, reaching down to play with the bottom of your dress. “I’ve been dreaming about how you’ll taste on my tongue.”

Your pussy throbs at the idea, and you gaze up at him with a body alight in anticipation. “Then… then you should taste me, John.”

The bear hybrid lets out another groan, and then he’s falling to his knees on the edge of the bed, large hands grabbing at your legs to pull you closer. 

His lips find your calf, and then your knee. When his face is between your thighs, his pretty ears brush your skin and make you shiver.

“Ticklish?” he grins, continuing to pepper your thighs with soft kisses.

“Very,” you confirm, reaching down to pull the skirt of your dress higher, revealing your underwear to the man between your legs.

“Shit, Bee,” Johnny says, voice shaky as he looks at your core. “You’re soaked through your panties,” at first, his words make heat rise through your body, embarrassment- but then Johnny’s taking a deep breath, and he looks up at you when he comments, “It’s so hot.” 

His hands grab at your hips, and in one motion, he’s pulled your pussy to his mouth, tongue pressing against the light pink fabric of your underwear. 

It feels amazing, but it’s also such a tease- you can feel the wetness of his own tongue, but it’s just out of reach. 

“Johnny, please,” you whimper, pushing your hips forward, wanting more-

His nose brushes by your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, a gasp of pleasure leaving you as you throw your head back and close your eyes. 

His fingers hook in your panties, and it’s a relief when he finally pulls them down your legs, discarding them over his shoulder before diving into your pussy. This time, there’s no fabric in his way, and his tongue licks at you directly, a sensation that drives you completely wild.

“John, it’s so good-” you groan, feeling the need to praise the man who pushes his tongue into your core. 

He moans in response, and the vibration has your body tingling. You could get lost in something like this, and you can already feel your mind going practically blank. All that matters is the here and now, you and Johnny. 

His nose brushes your clit again and a squeal of delight escapes you, your hands flying to grab at his soft hair and fuzzy ears. “John-” 

He pulls his tongue out of your wet hole, licking a full stipe of your pussy before he begins to circle your clit, and you swear you’re in heaven.

You can feel tension building in the pit of your stomach, and you know you’re not going to last long like this. No one’s ever eaten you out before with such vigor, such a need to have you like putty in his hands, and you’re more than happy to comply. In fact, you don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself.

His lips suction around your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, your grip tightening in his hair, which only makes him groan again. You gasp at the feeling, pushing your hips up, needing more contact-

“I’m close,” you whisper, pussy throbbing as he worships your most sensitive spots.

Suddenly, you feel something else, a finger slipping into your tight hole, and you let out another sound of pleasure. One digit becomes two, and they crook up expertly, reaching a spot that has you crying out.

“That’s it,” Johnny says, pulling just off your pussy, breath teasing your entrance. “I want you to cum, Bee. Want you to cum so bad-”

You let out a strangled gasp from the praise, and when his lips return to your clit, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you know you’re going to be a goner. 

You pull on his hair, legs shaking as you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. When Johnny growls, the vibrations are enough to send you over, and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, whole body overcome with pleasure that brings a tear to your eye due to the intensity of it all.

He continues his motions, helping you through your high until you’re wiggling in his gasp. His free hand smooths against your abdomen, keeping you still while his tongue and fingers begin to slow. 

When he pulls his mouth away, you can finally take a full breath, shuddering in the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“You’re just like you were in my dreams,” Johnny tells you, pulling his fingers from your core to suck on. He lets out a groan at your taste. “Sweeter than honey.” 

You shouldn’t be in love with Johnny only after three dates, but with lines like this one, you know you most definitely are. In the after haze or your orgasm, you can’t even find it within yourself to care that he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Johnny,” you whisper his name, opening your eyes to look at the man who’s now standing by the edge of the mattress. “Need you now.” 

“Let me just grab condoms,” he tells you, heading for the bedside table while tugging his shirt off. 

Your pussy throbs just at the sight of him. He’s so big and built and bear-like, in the best possible way- 

He undoes his pants, pulling out a condom package that he opens with his sharp teeth. Part of you thinks you should be getting naked too, especially when his briefs come down to join the pants on the floor, but as you watch him roll the rubber onto his large cock, you think maybe he’d enjoy it if the dress stays on… for just a little longer.

When Johnny turns to join you on the bed, you pat the space next to you. He quirks a brow, but follows through, falling flat onto his back. You take the opportunity to mount him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips while you adjust your skirts, letting them fall over you both delicately. 

“You can take this off of me in a minute,” you tell him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “but you’ve always told me how much you like my dresses, so I thought-”

“You look amazing,” Johnny confirms, grabbing at your hips and urging you to grind down against his cock, which is caught between your bodies. “My cute princess.” 

“My big bear,” you smile, lips moving to his neck while you continue to swivel your hips. 

Johnny lets out a groan of appreciation and you kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You reach under your dress, wrapping your fingers around his cock and squeezing, which earns another moan from the man who makes such perfect sounds.

“How am I going to fit this inside of me?” you ask.

“You can go slow,” he assures you, already panting from your hand alone.

You pull away from his lips, sitting up straight and lifting yourself so you can adjust him beneath you. As you begin to lower yourself on his cock, you find yourself moaning desperately from just the head and the way it stretches you out so well.

You’ve taken some well endowed men before, and the tactic that always worked was small bounces, allowing your pussy to get used to the intrusion as you slowly work your way to fullness. However, Johnny’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had.

“Relax,” he tells you, rubbing circles on your hips through your dress. “Take your time, princess.”

But you don’t want to take your time, you want him inside of you, completely. You want to feel him everywhere, and soon, you’re fully sinking down on his cock, eagerly bending over to press your lips to his again while you both moan at the feeling.

You begin to ride him, thighs straining with the effort, but the reward is worth the muscle ache, and you get lost in the feeling of his cock splitting you open. Johnny begins to meet your thrusts, abdominal muscles flexing with effort while his tongue invades your mouth and he eats up your sweet sounds.

“As much-” Johnny breaks your kiss, gasping. “As much as I like your dress, I want to see you.”

You straighten again, easily pulling the fabric from your body so all that’s left is your bra. You begin to reach behind yourself to undo the clasp, but Johnny beats you to it, sitting up and easily removing the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

“Shit,” Johnny groans, cupping one of your breasts with his large hand while his lips find your other nipple. His teeth graze the sensitive bud and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair while your pussy clenches around his cock.

Johnny moans beneath you, pulling his mouth from your breasts. He looks up at you with a wildly desperate expression. “Can I take over?” he asks, breathless. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

“Please.” No sooner is the word out of your mouth than his hand is securing around the small of your back and he’s rolling you both, pressing you down against the mattress as his large body dwarfs your own. 

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Johnny tells you, swallowing thickly while gazing down at your form. “I can be rough sometimes, even if I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you smile, cupping his face. “I’ve never actually said this before but… Big Bear, break my back like a glowstick.” 

Johnny laughs. “You got it, Bee.”

His lips find your neck, and you close your eyes, grabbing at his strong shoulders as his hips begin to move. 

Now that he’s on top, he’s somehow fucking you even deeper than before, and each glide of his cock against your inner walls has your toes curling in pleasure. 

He sucks on your sweet spot, making you gasp as his movements get rougher and rougher, the bed beginning to rock from the force of his thrusts. 

“John,” you whimper, body alight from the feeling of him, “Don’t stop-”

He only grins, fucking you harder, one hand lifting your leg higher on his hip so his cock can hit a spot deep inside of you that has you gasping-

“Oh my god-” 

“Close already, Bee?” Johnny chuckles.

“You just feel so good,” you tell him.

You’ve never experienced anything like this, and you’re not sure if it’s due to his big cock, his ability to use it, or the fact that you actually sort of love the guy you’re literally making love to. 

“That makes two of us,” Johnny says, kissing you again and taking your breath away.

You try to focus on his lips, to slow the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, but it’s hard to distract from the cock that's splitting you open like nothing ever has before. 

“Shit,” your bear hybrid breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck, “If you keep making sounds like that, I’m not going to last long-”

“Me neither,” you confess, although he already knew that. “John… you’ll cum with me, right?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” he groans, fingers flexing against your hips. “You’re already so tight, if you cum, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.”

You moan at his words, stroking your fingers across his strong back. “Please, I’m so close-”

The bear hybrid practically growls, and the sound goes straight to your core, making you throb around his cock. 

“You feel so good, I’m going insane-” you continue your praise, as every time you speak, he somehow fucks you harder. You’re not quite sure where he’s getting his stamina from, but you’ll never be one to complain about it.

Johnny lets go of your hip, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

A strangled moan escapes you at the contact, your eyes clenching shut as your body is suddenly teetering on the edge-

“Cum for me, Bee,” he pants against your throat, “I can’t hold it any longer.” 

Your entire body tenses as pleasure erupts through you, muscles screaming at how good everything feels. Gasping sounds slip past your lips, and you hold onto Johnny’s shoulders tightly, mind completely blank as the most intense orgasm of your life overtakes you. 

The bear hybrid lets out groans of his own, hips twitching as he fills the condom, fucking you through all the pleasure. When he kisses you, you’re already breathless, and his lips don’t help the situation. You’re completely overwhelmed by Johnny, and you’ve never loved anything more.

As you come down from your highs, his thrusts slow, and he stills on top of you, cock buried deep in your pussy while you both catch your breaths. 

“Wow,” Johnny says, laughing a little to himself as his kisses move to your neck again. “That was even better than my dreams.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me a lot, haven’t you, Big Bear?” you grin, tracing nothings on his shoulders.

“More than I care to admit.” He swallows thickly. “And something tells me the dreams will only continue.”

“They better,” you smile up at him when he pulls away from your throat.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

With one last kiss to your lips, Johnny rolls off of you and stands up. You can’t help but watch him as he heads to the ensuite bathroom. His body is the most perfect thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing and experiencing. 

You take a few breaths while you wait for him to come back, trying to ground yourself. 

After the bathroom, Johnny heads into his walk-in closet, coming out a moment later in a pair of black briefs. “I got you a shirt,” he says, holding it out for you. “As much as I love that dress, I think this might be more comfortable for you.”

“Thanks, Big Bear,” you grin, taking it and putting it on. The fabric swallows you up, and you smile at how good it feels to be wearing his clothes. 

“I was thinking…” he sits on the bed next to you, hand smoothing up your thigh, “I’m pretty hungry after that workout. Can I make us something to eat?”

“I’d love that,” you say, sitting up. 

“Good,” he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet before finding your panties on the floor. “Here, you might want these too.”

You laugh, accepting the underwear and bending over to slip them on.

“So what’s on the menu, chef?” you ask, following him out of the bedroom.

“Well, I know it’s not much, but I was thinking avocado toast.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you grin, padding down the stairs after him to the main floor.

In the kitchen, you take a seat at the large island table, watching him as he heads to the fridge and pulls out a few ingredients. 

You’re once again struck by how wonderful the silences can be with John. There’s no pressure to fill them with words, and you can simply relax while you watch your Big Bear hybrid work.

His muscles are particularly enthralling as he pulls out a knife and opens the avocado, setting half of it down before he begins to peel off the skin.

“Look at you go,” you smile, “opening that bad boy like a pro.”

Johnny flashes you a look and then lets out a laugh. “I used to absolutely brutalize avocados,” he confesses. “Yuta’s dad owns a sushi restaurant in Japan, so he knows how to do all this cooking stuff. The first time he saw me open one of these he nearly had an aneurysm.” 

“Was it that bad?”

“I used to leave the peel on, slice it up, and then try to scoop it out with a spoon,” Johnny grins at the memory. “So yeah, pretty bad.”

You’d never have guessed Johnny would have had such humble beginnings with knife wielding, but you suppose everyone starts somewhere.

You enjoy watching his hands while he works, laying the peeled avocado flat while he slices it in perfect chunks. He’d put bread in the oven at the start, and as he finishes up with the avocado, he pulls the pan of toast out, the colour a nice golden brown.

“Do you make this sort of thing often?” you ask.

“Often enough,” Johnny nods. “Winnie likes her avocados almost as much as her honey.” He places the green slices on the bread, using a fork to press them down before he grabs salt and pepper. 

“Can’t wait to try it,” you grin.

“There’s just one last ingredient though,” Johnny tells you, finding a jar of honey sitting on the counter. You watch as he drizzles the golden liquid on top of the avocado, and you can’t help but find the bear hybrid incredibly charming. “There we go,” he smiles, putting all the pieces onto a plate before coming around the table to join you on the bar stools.

“Cheers,” you say, holding up one slice for Johnny to gently touch with his own.

“To the bears, the bees, and the honey that connects them,” he muses.

“To us,” you agree, picking up on the metaphor.

You know that there’s technically nothing special about avocado toast, but it’s still one of the best things you’ve eaten in ages, and you find yourself groaning after the first bite.

“Is it really that good?” Johnny laughs, watching your expressions with a smile.

“Better than good,” you confirm. “If running a club doesn’t work out, you could always be a chef.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Johnny nods with a smile. “You haven’t even tried my barbecue yet.”

“Something tells me you know how to handle your meat.”

The bear laughs at your comment, and you realize too late the sexual connotation of your words. 

“I didn’t mean-” you go to correct yourself, but you end up face palming instead, letting out a groan.

“You’re too cute,” Johnny assures you, resting a hand on your knee. “Hey, listen, if you want me to drive you home, I can, but… how would you feel about staying the night?”

“Really?” you blink at him.

He nods. “Really.”

“I think I’d love that,” you admit.

“Perfect, then it’s settled. Mi casa es su casa.” 

You smile at the notion of his house being your house. “Since when did you speak Spanish?” 

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” His thumb rubs circles on your thigh.

“Well,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, “I can’t wait to find out more.”

Johnny had closed the blinds last night, so when you wake up in a literal man cave, you kind of want to see the sun. However, Johnny looks so peaceful lying next to you, his plump lips just slightly parted, his fluffy ears twitching from whatever is happening in his dream land- and you think it would be a shame to wake him so abruptly to the light.

You take the time to appreciate him, wondering how you ever got so lucky to end up where you are now. You’d always had a crush on him, but you’d never expected it to be anything more.

You’re so happy that he’d felt the same way you had. If he’d never made a move and asked you out, well- you don’t want to think about that.

When you shift ever so slightly, Johnny’s eyes open, and he squints at you, letting out a groan. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice gruff from sleep.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him. “Are you waking up now?” 

“It’s too early,” Johnny grunts, pulling you closer and burrowing his face in your neck.

“I guess I’m used to waking up at this time,” you note. 

“Do you have to go? Is there work?” 

“I’m thinking of calling in sick, that is… if you want me to spend the day with you.”

“Fuck, yes please.” His breath is hot against your throat.

“I’m just going to step out to make the call, and when I come back, do you mind if I open these blinds? I know this is your bear cave and all, but if you’re going to sleep a little longer, I’d love some light to read a book or something.”

Johnny only groans, but you take it as an affirmative as you untangle yourself from his grasp.

Five minutes later, the room is lit with sunshine and you’re slipping into bed next to him again. Your family has always been extra close with the owner of Queen B’s Honey, so calling in had been simple, and you’re excited about what your day with Johnny will bring.

You’ve found a book to read, some fiction off Johnny’s bookshelf, and when you get under the covers, Johnny is quick to cuddle up next to you again. “Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, voice as groggy as ever.

“Of course, Big Bear,” you smile, adjusting to allow him to curl up next to you. He lets out a deep breath once he’s settled, and you smooth your hands through his hair, gently scratching at the base of his ear.

Johnny lets out a deep groan. “Feels good.” 

He falls asleep just seconds later, and you continue stroking him while you read. 

Time flies by, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when Johnny finally wakes up again. He lets out a soft groan, cuddling closer to your side. “Good morning.”

“Hi, sleepy bear.” 

“I had dreams about you,” he says softly.

“You did?” 

“Uh huh,” his hand strokes by your thigh. 

“What happened in your dream?” you press, gently scratching his fluffy ear.

Johnny lets out a laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Was it something bad?”

“Something good,” he confirms. “It involved a few cubs running around.”

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. “Wow, John, I didn’t know you were really thinking that far ahead in the future for us.”

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, rolling onto his back to look up at you. “I know we’ve only had a few dates, but… well, I’ve been into you for months. It’s at a point where I don’t even really look at other girls, and I’m fine if you don’t want to be exclusive or anything-”

“Who said I don’t want to be exclusive?” 

A lazy smile covers Johnny’s face, and he sits up, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You really want to give this a try?”

“I’d be stupid not to, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I’ve met girls who will only see me as a hybrid, as someone to mess around with for a little while before finding a human partner again. I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t see a future for us.” 

“Oh, John,” you shake your head, “I’m not like those other girls.”

“I guess not,” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. 

You feel so blessed to be able to give this a shot with Johnny, a real shot. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and as he pulls you into his arms, you have a feeling that everything is going to work out better than either of you could possibly imagine. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you've made it to the end and want something else to read, check out Hyuck's hybrid fic here, or more of Nikki's work on her masterlist here

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🔮 preview. “Give me a sec and I’ll pull off to a residential street,” he tells you, flicking his turn signal on. “It will take a minute or two longer to get home, but something tells me you won’t mind.” He’s literally the perfect man, and you’re working to get his zipper undone the moment you’re off the main road. Johnny lifts his hips, helping you tug his jeans down just enough to get at your prize.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, blowing Johnny while he drives, hand job, sex outside in the forest on a car, car sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, quickie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Bee, Princess. (his) Big Bear, John.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 350

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

Going to a baseball game is one of your favourite family outings. Between you, Johnny, his sister, and his sister’s husband, the four adults can handle the four cubs that run around you like excitable little rascals at all times.

Hotdogs and popcorn are cheap, and Winnie, as the oldest of the group of kids, spends the whole game explaining what’s happening to your sons, who are much too young to care about baseball. 

You and Johnny sit on either side of Winnie, each holding a wiggling three year old twin in your arms. Winnie’s mom and her dad are in the row just in front of you, their own two year old in their grasp.

“So now,” the nearly ten year old Winnie explains to the toddler in your arms, “the bases are fully loaded, and the game is almost over, so the guy with the big bum has to make this hit-”

Johnny murmurs the name of the player up to bat, but Winnie ignores him. She has names for each man on the pitch, and it just so happens that the man swinging has the biggest butt. 

The crack of the ball against the bat alights the stadium in cheers as everyone at their bases begin to run, and Johnny stands, holding his toddler while he watches. His baseball cap is backward, but it’s still clear by the jersey he’s wearing that he’s a home pitch superfan. “Go, go, go!” he screams. “Run, butt guy, run!” 

You love him, and your perfect family. 

You stand too, as this last run of the game is important to your evening plans. If your home team wins, Johnny’s sister will take your twins for the night and give you and Johnny some alone time. However, if her away team wins, you and Johnny are on babysitting duty.

“Go, butt guy! Go!” Winnie cheers, and you find it almost comical how the little girl has no clue that she’s helping cheer on the odds of her sweet Uncle John getting laid.

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[spooky-bunnys]

Hiii can you make an Undertaker one? It’s okay if you don’t :D

It's the Undertaker! I had to do something for him! Hope you Enjoy!

When Ciel arrived at the Undetaker's funeral palor for information regarding to his current case, he wasn't expecting company. Well...live company that is. When he entered the palor he wasn't expecting to see Undertaker interacting with someone that was actually living and breathing.

When the bell rang over the entry door. The conversing duo stopped and looked at the door. Noticing the Young Earl and his faithful butler. "Oh! Sorry. I didn't know you'd be expecting guests". A male with (hair color) hair spoke standing. His eyes were a dark purple. Which immediately Sebastian noticed.

He gave a small smirk. "Hello (Name)." The male now introduced as (Name). Looked confused. Ciel was equally confused on how his butler knew the male and not him. Unless...."He isn't human?" (Name) looked surprised. "How...." (Name) took a good look at the butler and noticed Sebastian's eyes and nodded. "Demons."

Ciel looked between the two extremely confused. "How the bloody hell?" (Name) gave the Young Earl a smile and bowed. "You must be Earl Phantomhive. I've heard so much about you!" Ciel looked at the Undertaker Furious. "Why the bloody hell would you tell other supernatural creatures about me!" The Undertaker laughed loudly. That's when Sebastian cut in. "He didn't Young Master. (Name) is a Fairy. He lives in the forest surrounding the Manor."

Ciel stared at the young male. "A Fairy? Like in the fairy tales?" (Name) gave a small huff. "I hate those fucking stories." The Undertaker laughed harder hanging on the young male. "Interestly Fairys are almost completely different from those children stories. So my little (Name) here is nothing like the stories you were told." The Undertaker hugged the male close to him.

"Your little (Name)?" The sliver haired male nodded excitedly. "After so many centuries he's finally accepted my marriage proposal!" Ciel looked flabbergasted at the "Young" male. "Centuries?! Just how blood old are you?!" (Name) laughed at his reaction. "I'm only 1,900 years old. I'm actually still quiet young." ONLY 1,900!? Sebastian looked surprised."Why you are still quite young then aren't you."

Ciel turned to Sebastian Furious. "You knew about them?!" "Well of course Young Master. How do you think I was able to rebuild the Manor so many times. (Name)'s tribe is quite helpful when it comes to issues like that." Ciel whipped to the other male. "Wait! You were the one to build my Manor?" (Name) nodded with a smile. Undertaker smiled brightly. "My little Fairy is quite the worker isn't he?"

The fairy blushed and pushed the Undertaker off him and brushed the "dirt" from his clothes. "Well since you're here that must mean you need help with a case. I shall see you later Taker." (Name) gave the male a short but passionate kiss. He turned and looked at Sebastian with a raised brow. "My elders are wondering when you'll come again. Apparently you missed the last meeting."

Sebastian gave a small bow smirking as he did. "Yes, unfortunately we were caught up in a case. I shall visit as soon as my master excuses me later." (Name) nodded and gave a deep bow to the Earl. "It was nice to finally meet you Young Master. I'll see you again soon." Then (Name) was surrounded by a pale green light and disappeared. Leaving a small (Flower) in his place.

#male reader #x male reader #black butler x male reader #black butler #undertaker #blac butler undertaker x male reader #undertaker x male reader

[writercole]

Whispered Promises

Summary: You don’t date Navy pilots. But you might make an exception when one wants to take you for a ride. Squares: Quote J TMAS @supernatural-jackles Words: 2311 Warnings: Smut. 18 +. Fingering, protected sex (wrap it up, now more than ever!), Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Credits: @princessmisery666 for the beta and sorting my thoughts into something resembling a flowing story.

A/N: Look, who wouldn’t want this adorable, cocky bastard to rail them on a bar? Yes, there will be more on its way but currently I have one other one-shot and two series in progress - JUST FOR THE TOP GUN BOYS. And more plot bunnies than I can shake a stick at.

The Hard Deck was packed. It was supposed to be your day off but when Penny had called and told you some of the Top Gun graduates were back in town, you couldn’t leave her alone. She claimed she needed reinforcements. An hour into your shift, you understood.

Penny froze the second that Pete Mitchell stepped onto the porch. She regained her composure pretty quickly; you had to say you were impressed. You smirked to yourself as you watched their interactions from your periphery.

You’d been bartending with Penny for long enough that you’d heard their story several times. You never told Penny but you could see when she got lost in the past. Though it wasn’t meant as a cautionary tale, it kept you from doing anything more than flirting with any of the Navy pilots that frequented the bar.

“What can I get ya?” you asked as you turned to the next customer.

“For starters, how about a beer? Then your name and when you get off,” a deep voice said.

You finally looked at him properly and it nearly took your breath away. A beautiful blond man with a cocky smirk stood before you, Navy khakis clinging to his obviously muscular frame. You took a page out of Penny’s book and recovered quickly, pulling a bottle and popping the top, sliding it across the bar. 

“Y/N.” you said, before turning to serve the next customer.

“You didn’t tell me when you get off,” he called after you.

“I know,” you replied, a smirk of your own on your lips as you looked over your shoulder at him. “I don’t date Navy pilots.”

“Who said anything about a date?” he winked. 

You laughed; you liked a forward man. No bullshit, no lies, straight to the point. 

The sound of the bell ringing distracted the man enough for you to slip away to the other side of the bar. When you turned back, he had returned to the pool tables, joining his friend who was trying to stop him from hitting another bullseye on the dart boards.

You’d made your way up and down the bar twice before the pilot returned. He patiently waited while you tended to another customer, going so far as to tell Penny that he was waiting for you. 

“What are you having this time?” you asked.

“Another round on the old timer,” he smirked as he nodded at Pete, “and the time you get off.”

“I already told you, I don’t date Navy pilots,” you told him as you handed over his beer.

“I didn’t say anything about a date. I was just hopin’ to give you a ride.” The sparkle in his eyes was mesmerizing and his cocky demeanor made you bite your bottom lip.

But that didn’t mean you were gonna make it easy.

“Next drink is on your own tab,” you winked as you sauntered to the next patron, feeling his eyes follow you as you moved.

The bell rang again, a different rhythm to the peals followed by a roar from the crowd. The pilot and his friend picked up Pete and dropped him outside the bar, taunting him as he laid in the sand.

The tinkling of the piano filled the air and a crowd formed, including several more uniformed Naval officers. They began belting out an old song, one you knew but not well enough to join in on the singing.

“Song isn’t even that great,” you heard from behind you.

“Aw, Hangman,” another voice said, “you’re just jealous that you didn’t think of playing the piano to pick up chicks.” 

Turning around, you found the blond pilot you’d been serving and his friend. Hangman, the blond you deduced by the other man’s hand on his shoulder, looked quite sour at the impromptu concert. Until he looked at you and then that distracting charm was back. 

“What did he call you?” you asked, with an amused smirk. 

“Hangman,” he repeated, “but you can replace the first A with a U and it's still accurate.” 

You laughed and popped the top on another beer for him, sliding it over, you took the opportunity to check out if his statement was correct or simply cockiness. And you thanked whoever designed the uniforms because it looked as if he could back up his statement and then some.

He looked up at you as he took the fresh beer and you flashed a flirty smile, calling out over the music, “on the house.”

You felt his eyes on you for the rest of the night.

The bar cleared slowly, leaving you, Penny, Hangman, and one other customer. The other customer paid his tab and left soon, wishing you a good night.

You looked over at Hangman, finding him watching you with a smirk on his face. You raised your eyebrow at him and he winked, shattering what little resistance you had left.

“Hey, Penny? Why don’t you head out? I can finish this,” you told her quietly.

She glanced between you and the pilot and smiled, whispering a word of caution in your ear before she took her leave. The door closed quietly behind her, echoing over the gentle music of the jukebox.

“Am I safe here all alone with you?” he teased. “Something tells me you can handle yourself,” you smiled, “but if you're afraid…” 

He chuckled, dimples making his eyes sparkle and you felt your stomach flutter as he stalked toward you. He stepped around the edge of the bar and stopped directly in front of you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. He took your hand and lifted it to interlace his fingers with yours. “I am afraid, will you hold my hand?” 

“Just your hand?” 

He wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you close. His lips ghosted over yours softly, his warm, beer-scented breath tickling your skin. "For now," he whispered before his soft, pillowy lips touched yours.

He kept you pressed against his hard body as your lips moved together. Your free hand slid up his neck and tugged at the short hairs, eliciting a deep growl from his chest. He released your hand and mirrored you, wrapping his hand tightly in your hair and pulling you back gently. 

You gasped as he placed open mouthed kisses down your jaw. “Hangman,” you moaned, pressing yourself closer to him.

“It’s Jake,” he said between kisses down your neck.

“What?’

“Name,” he panted, “Jake. Don’t want you to scream my call sign tonight.”

“Scream it, huh? Someone’s confident,” you taunted, a smirk on your kiss-swollen lips.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” he countered with a wink of his own.

Jake lifted you onto the counter suddenly and slotted himself between your legs. His hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips tightly as he claimed your lips once again. His fingers teased along the hem of your shirt while yours fumbled with the buttons on his uniform.

You could feel the firm muscles beneath the coarse material, beneath the plain white tee he had underneath. His hands slid up your sides, lifting your tee as his palms dragged upwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

Jake pulled away for a moment to pull your shirt over your head and you whined at the momentary loss of contact. You slid his uniform shirt off his shoulders and tugged the white tee off of him, admiring the defined lines of his abs while you could. 

He was back on you before his shirt hit the floor, his tongue tracing the inside of your mouth while his hands explored, down your shoulders, fondling your breasts, pulling your bra off. Your moans and gasps were swallowed by him, his lips turning up further into a smirk with every sound you made.

Jake’s lips trailed lower, caressing your collarbone as his hands slid up from your waist. His mouth latched onto one nipple as his hands kneaded your breasts. Your back arched as he lavished attention on one side, then the other. Your moans echoed off the walls, bouncing back to your ears and adding to the slick pooling between your legs.

“Jake,” you whined, your hands twisting in his hair. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” he smirked as he knelt between your legs.

He kissed and nipped up your inner thighs, his hands working the button of your shorts open. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, enjoying the look of burning desire lighting your eyes. 

Jake stood and you lifted your hips for him to wiggle your shorts off, kicking your shoes off at the same time. Your hands tugged on his belt, fumbling with the buckle with trembling hands.

His lips crashed into yours as he helped you to open his pants. The belt and button gave little resistance and your hands went back to wandering the hard expanse of his chest. Jake trailed his fingers up your legs, goosebumps erupting in their wake as you shuddered against him. 

Jake dipped two fingers between your folds and groaned when he felt the wetness pooled there. “Damn, baby, look at you. Dripping wet and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

He swirled his fingers on your clit and it only drove you closer to breaking point. “Later,” you panted, “I want you inside me.”

“Needy little thing, aren’t we?” he cooed as he reached around for his wallet, pulling out a condom and quickly getting it rolled down his impressive length. 

You tugged him closer by his dog tags and wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him line his cock up with your weeping entrance. He bottomed out in one thrust, a deep moan escaping your chest and reverberating around the empty bar. 

Jake rested his head on your shoulder a moment, quietly trying to keep his composure. 

“Jake, please. I need you to move,” you begged in a whisper, not caring that you sounded desperate.

“If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets.” He began thrusting at a slow pace, the angle hitting all the right spots and driving you to the edge of release with just a few strokes. “Let go, baby,” he told you as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for another searing kiss.

Jake swallowed the sounds of your climax, picking up his pace as he felt your walls flutter around him again. 

“One more, baby,” he coaxed, his fingers slipping between your bodies and rubbing circles on your sensitive clit. He hadn’t expected to be close to finishing so soon; that hadn’t happened since he was a teenager. He couldn’t explain it if he tried. All he knew was that he was determined that you would finish first.

Your head tipped back as your back arched, shouting Jake’s name as you came again, your release triggering his own as he spilled into the condom with a groan. He rested his forehead against yours as you both panted, coming down from your highs together. 

Once your breathing had returned to normal, Jake pulled out slowly, being careful to keep the condom from slipping off before he could dispose of it. You hopped off of the counter and started getting dressed, passing clothing items between you silently. 

Jake slipped his tee shirt on and rolled his uniform into a ball, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“Good night, Jake,” you said quietly as you stepped away.

“You gonna be okay by yourself?” 

“I close up alone all the time,” you dismissed. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well, uh, goodnight then,” he replied with a wave as he left the bar.

You finished cleaning up and closing with a bounce in your step, completing everything quickly, even with the extra disinfecting. You slipped out of the door humming a familiar tune, and froze when you saw another person on the deck.

“Jake?” you questioned as you stepped towards him.

“Hey, uh,” he said, his hand running through his hair as you waited for him to continue. “I saw you didn’t drive here and I wanted to make sure that you got home safe.”

“That’s really nice of you but I live right there,” you smiled as you pointed to a little house a couple hundred yards down the beach.

“You never know what’s lurking in the shadows,” he smirked, “I think I should walk you home.”

“You do this for all the girls you screw on bars?” you teased, glancing sideways at him as you locked the door. 

“Never, actually,” he admitted with a shrug. 

“Why me? Why now?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to know more about you.”

“Hmm. Cute line, but I still don’t date Navy pilots.” You turned towards your house and started walking, Jake falling into step beside you. You walked the short distance in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at him out of your periphery. 

“This is me,” you said when you stopped in front of your door.

“Do you think I could try to change your mind?” he asked hopefully, his hands in his pockets and his uniform shirt draped over his arm.

“About what?”

“Dating Navy pilots.”

You looked at him, really looked at him in the soft glow of the porch light. He looked sincere, genuine. But you were still cautious. Your heart said give him a chance; your brain said run away. 

“You could try. But I won’t make any promises.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and unlocked your door, turning to look at him once more before you shut him out. “Thanks.”

Jake watched the door shut in a daze. He’d definitely have his work cut out for him if he decided to try.

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @evergreencowboy @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @lassie-bird @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories

Top Gun: @princessmisery666 @evansrogerskitten @bradshaw-fanclub @saiyanprincessswanie @mavswife

#writercole #tmas bingo #jake seresin #hangman seresin #top gun maverick #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #glen powell #spicy pepper

[shipperqueen93]

Twice Upon a Dream pt 2

Yes I know this chapter took forever to get out but I had motivation problems. Hopefully the next few chapters wont take as long. In the last chapter Ruby had a conversation with Mal about Belle and Gold. In this chapter Belle and Gold finally are forced to interact. Shout out to @ishtarelisheba for beta'ing this for me because I hate commas. Also to @ripperblackstaff for the original prompt.

Fingers raking through her hair, tugging and pulling her closer. Kisses that made her head fuzzy and knees weak. Her own hands fisted in his silk shirt and worked the tie knotted at his throat. The rasp of his stubble as he kissed along the length of her throat. Finally, she got his tie undone with a noise of triumph that brought forth a chuckle from Cameron. 

His voice was pure sin as whispered against her throat, “Eager, sweet Belle?” 

Belle. 

Belle. 

Belle!

“Belle!” 

Belle snapped out of her daydream as an ice cube pelted her in the forehead. Wiping the water from her eyes, she glared over at Emma, who just grinned back innocently and flicked the water from her hand at her. 

“Have a good dream?” Emma asked with a smirk. 

She and Emma had met up at their favorite coffee cart to wait for Ruby to get out of class. The three of them were supposed to head to Granny’s for dinner, but Ruby’s class was running late. The two of them had been chatting when Emma got a call and she stepped away. Alone, Belle’s thoughts had begun to drift, and like they had many times since her dream in the library,  her thoughts drifted back. 

“If you must know, I was thinking about the paper I have to write for Midas. It's due Monday and I’m only half done with it.” Belle lied through her teeth and, based on Emma’s expression, her friend knew it, too. 

Belle didn’t like lying, especially not to her friends, but she wasn’t going to admit that she was having yet another inappropriate dream about her professor. Emma was one of her closest friends, but that was something she was keeping to herself. She hadn’t even told Ruby about that night at the library. It was one thing to have a crush on a teacher. It was another thing completely to repeatedly envision said teacher fucking you seven ways from Sunday. 

Just thinking about her dream had her face heating, but thankfully, Emma’s phone gave a chirp, drawing the blonde’s attention. Emma was just as good as Ruby, if not better, at reading people and figuring out what was on their mind. She claimed that her superpower was that she could tell when someone was lying, so all the better that she was distracted and couldn’t call Belle out on her shit. 

While Emma tapped out a message to whoever had texted her, Belle glanced around the university grounds. Not far away, Ana and Will were sitting together, Ana’s head on his shoulder as she read some book. Out on the grass, Mulan was slowly going through some of her wushu forms as Aurora attempted to copy her, the two of them laughing as Aurora stumbled and fell flat on the ground. Over by the small fountain, Ariel -a classmate of Ruby’s- and a dark haired man Belle vaguely recalled seeing in the back of a few of her lit classes were awkwardly flirting. Everywhere she looked there were couples, or almost couples, just basking in each other's presence. Hell, going by the dopey smile Emma had worn earlier when her phone rang, Belle would bet that it had been from her own, secret , partner. A small, bitter, part of her now understood why villains in fairy tales wanted to destroy the happiness of the protagonistic couple. Her lack of a love life, combined with her new reoccurring daydreams, was making her as bitter as a lonely old spinster. 

When her own phone chimed, it was a welcome respite from the thoughts banging around in her head. Though it seemed the universe seemed fit to laugh at her as the object of her thoughts was brought to the forefront once more. 

Cameron’s name flashed across her phone screen along with his text message. “I must see you in my office. Immediately.” 

A puzzled frown crossed her face as she reread the message. Cameron had barely paid her any attention since she had returned, let alone texted her. The last text she had received from him was back during her illness, when she had reached out expressing her utter boredom, and he had replied back with a simple, “Get well.” She had excused it then, as she knew he was not fond of text messaging. She hadn’t put much stock in his quiet at the time, but given how things had changed between them since, she could view it in a different light. Which made his message all the more confusing. 

“Ruby said she’s on her way. She mentioned going to the Rabbit Hole tonight, and she wants to know if you are in.” Emma’s voice cut through her thoughts once more. It seemed the person she had been texting hadn’t been her own, not so secret lover, but instead Ruby. 

Gesturing vaguely to her phone, Belle shook her head. “Apparently Professor Gold needs to see me. I’ll have to meet up with you at Granny’s afterwards,” Belle stated as she started gathering her things. 

Emma raised an eyebrow but gave a shrug. “Tell the bastard hi from me.”

Belle rolled her eyes. She knew that Emma and Cameron had an interesting relationship, to say the least, but there was a mutual respect there. “I’m sure he’ll be so pleased.” 

Emma gave an amused huff but waved her away. 

The trip to Cameron’s office wasn’t long, and soon she was walking down the familiar hall. She passed Walter, one of the janitors, who gave her a sleepy wave and smile as he steered his floor scrubbing machine. When she got to Cameron’s office, she was surprised to see the door ajar, as he didn’t really keep an ‘open door’ policy. However, before she could question it much further, she heard his voice coming from down the hall in Mal’s office. Shaking her head, she let herself into the office. So much for needing to see her immediately. 

Given the new dynamic of their relationship, Belle hadn’t spent much time in the office since her return, but it was clear that not much had changed. Papers were still littered over his desk, books piled on every flat surface, a cup of cold tea sat next to the keyboard just waiting to be knocked over. Habit had her taking the cup and moving it to the other side of the desk, finger tracing the familiar chip. The first time she had seen him drinking from the cup after she had broken it, she had assumed he was mocking her, but over time, she realized it was more than that. Though Cam never explained exactly what it was, it was clear the cup held some special meaning to him. She had liked to believe it was because that moment was a change in how he saw her, but given their current relationship, she was no longer sure that was the case. 

“Miss French? What are you doing here?” Cam spoke from behind her.

------------

It had been a long day, and all Cameron Gold wanted to do was finish grading his papers and go home. He swore students got dumber each year - that could be the only excuse for the absolute drivel he was reading. To his great dismay, Gary Aston was taking his American Legal History class, and it was clear that lummox had used a thesaurus on every other word and hadn’t even bothered with spell check. 

Cameron had been on the second of three pages when Mal had asked for his help. More accurately, she had shouted his name down the hall they shared until he cursed and made his way to her office. She sat at her desk, reading through some papers, and he could tell by the look of her that she was pissed. He sat down in the chair across from her desk, resting his hands on the top of his cane. 

“What happened now, Mallory? Did Ingrid take the Espresso Swirl off the menu again?” Cameron asked, easily dodging the purple pen that was thrown his way. 

“Cameron, I swear to God, I am not in the mood to deal with your bullshit. Shut up,” Mal sniped back. 

She didn’t even look up at him as she reached the last page of the papers she was reading. Questioning why he put up with her antics, Cameron sat back and waited for her to get to the point of why she shouted him down. 

When she seemingly finished reading the papers, she cursed and tossed them at him. “Look at this! Regina has to be out of her mind if she thinks I’m signing this.”

Ah, it was contract time again. His own contract was relatively simple, due to his tenured status. However, Mal had not reached that status yet, and her contracts tended to have more variance year to year. 

Giving Mal a small smirk, he held the contract back to her, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone as he spoke. “Mal, you should be reviewing this with Ingrid, not me. Plus, what would Regina think?” He ducked as a highlighter flew at his head. “You’re lucky this is better than what I was reading before.”

He spent the next thirty minutes reviewing the minutiae of her contract, which honestly was a nice break from the eye bleeding essays he had been reading. If nothing else, bantering with Mal was a distraction from his thoughts. Thoughts of a certain brunette, blue-eyed Australian who was driving him crazy. 

Ever since that damned dream, he hadn’t had a moment of peace. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived it in all its vivid details. The taste of her, sweet as strawberries, how smooth her skin was, the little noises she made as she moved against him, how incredible she felt around him. All of it was driving him insane. And then he would remember that it was a dream, a highly inappropriate dream, and if Belle knew what thoughts he was having, she’d be horrified and disgusted by him. He was her professor, a mentor. At one point, he might have even considered them friends, but that was as far as it was supposed to go. There was no way she saw him as he saw her, and he wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that would change. 

So he stayed away from her, or at least maintained the same distance he did with all his graduate students under his advisement. He kept to his office hours, kept their meetings to their scheduled time frames, pretended he was busy when she would stop by. He even treated Jones to lunch once to escape her. He hated it. He was miserable, and according to Mal, he was being a right bastard. The worst part? It still didn’t help.

Every night, he was plagued by dreams of brown hair, blue eyes, and an accent he couldn’t get out of his mind. He would wake up achingly hard with the phantom scent of strawberries driving him insane. Even doing everything he could to minimize their contact during his waking hours did nothing to stop his fantasies from tormenting when he slept. In his dreams, Belle wanted him, she loved him, and was as eager for him as he was for her. Clearly, his brain hadn’t gotten the memo that he was supposed to be getting over this obsession. 

When he finished advising Mal - or rather, listening to her bitch about where Regina could shove her contract - he made the trek back to his office. Focusing his mind on getting through the rest of the essays he had been reviewing, he vaguely noticed Walter cursing at his floor scrubber as he passed by. When he got to his office, he was surprised to see the door open, but was shocked even more to find Belle French standing behind his desk, his chipped cup in her hands. 

For a moment, he thought mind was playing tricks on him and he was imagining her there, but when the vision of her didn’t disappear, he realized she was actually there. He took a step closer, expecting the tap of his cane to draw her attention, but she never looked up, giving him the opportunity to drink her in. She looked stunning, as usual, in a lacey cream blouse that was sheer enough to be tantalizing but not unprofessional, and one of those short, floaty, black skirts she loved that made his blood pressure rise. It was all tied together with a pair of her sky high heels that made her shapely legs look impossibly long. He did note that even with them she was still shorter than him, however. 

Belle wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his back, and he sank deeper into her sweet heaven. She was so tight and wet around him. Head thrown back in ecstasy as he slid in and out of her, swallowing down her cries as he rubbed small circles around her clit. 

The click of the door shutting behind him shook him out of his flashback of his dream, but Belle didn’t seem to notice, her finger still tracing over the chip in the cup. 

“Miss French? What are you doing here?” he spoke, watching as she jumped slightly at his voice. Tea splashed over the edge of the cup and splattered on the essays he had been reading earlier, an improvement to many of them. 

Belle cursed quietly and set the cup down. “Cam, you startled me.”

“Well, it is my office, dearie.” His tone was sharper than he intended, and he cursed himself for it, especially when he saw the way her expression closed off. 

Her usually expressive face was completely devoid of emotion. It was a look he knew well. He had perfected it over years of listening to excuses and going to boring meetings Regina insisted he attend. 

Belle set the cup down on the desk before walking around it to ‘her’ side and staring at him with crossed arms. “Very well, Professor Gold, what did you need me for?” she asked, her voice just as flat as her expression. 

“Cam, please!” Belle begged into his ear. The needy tone, and the way she bucked her hips against his, left no question of what she wanted.

It was on the tip of his tongue to list a number of things he needed her for, starting with her joining him for dinner tonight and ending with her screaming his name as he fucked her in his bed, but he didn’t think that was what she was referring to. Matter of fact, he hadn’t a clue what she was referring to. A quick mental check of his calendar assured him he hadn’t gotten his dates mixed up. They weren’t due for another meeting until the next week. 

“I’m sorry, Miss French, but you are going to have to clarify what you mean. I have no need for you,” Gold managed to get out even as his mind screamed that he was a liar. 

Belle’s mask dropped a bit as confusion seemed to roll over her. “You texted me. Told me you needed to see me, and I quote, ‘immediately.’ Sound familiar?” 

No, it didn’t. He hadn’t sent any messages. Belle knew better than anyone else he was not exactly a texter. “Miss French, I believe you are mistaken. Perhaps you mistook it for one of your little friends.” 

The annoyed look she sent him in response would have had most men stuttering out an apology, but he was not most men. Even still, he took the chance to slip into his chair and start looking over the essays from earlier - a great excuse to avoid her eye contact. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy to escape this conversation, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when a phone was set down on the papers he was looking over. His own name stared back at him on her phone. He was choosing to ignore the little smiley faces next to his name because he was not in the right space to ponder over that, along with their text history. “I must see you in my office. Immediately.” Despite knowing he hadn’t sent any sort of text message, it was there clear as day. 

“Somehow I don’t think I mistook this, Professor Gold.” 

Opening up the top drawer of his desk, Cameron pulled out his phone and brought up his own messages. Sure enough, there was nothing there. He set the phone down next to Belle’s so she could read it. “As you can see, Miss French, I’ve sent you no messages. As it was, I was talking with Professor Drago when you received your message. I didn’t even have my phone on me.”

Belle’s face scrunched up in adorable confusion, and he could tell she was trying to figure out what happened before seemingly giving up. “Well, this was a waste of my time,” she groused as she grabbed her phone. 

The words were a shot to his heart. A waste of her time, that’s what seeing him had become to her. Like a wounded animal, he couldn't help but snipe back, “It’s been a pleasure for me, too, dearie. Why don’t you run along now, some of us have to actually work. We don’t get a month off because we caved to our hormones and made the wrong choice of hookups, dearie.” 

The words were off his tongue before he truly thought them through, and he immediately regretted them, especially when he saw the hurt alight in her eyes. “Belle, I-”

“Save it. I’m leaving before you can say something else monumentally stupid.” 

To anyone else, her voice may have sounded calm, but he could hear the slight tremor in it that belied her anger. She was stalking to the door before he could grab his cane. By the time he made it to his feet to go after her, she was at the door. He didn’t relish the idea of chasing her through the halls, but he’d do it to apologize or whatever it took to erase that hurt. Her name was on the tip of tongue again, ready to beg her to stop and listen, when she tried to open the door and it didn’t budge.

------------

“He’s an asshole.” A voice in Belle’s head screamed at Cameron’s cruel words. 

Bad choice of hookups. Had anyone else said such a thing, she’d have accused them of being jealous, but she knew Cameron. He wasn’t some childish schoolboy who got jealous over who she may, or may not, have possibly hooked up with. Given his treatment of her over the last few months, she was beginning to doubt if he cared about her at all. 

There were so many things she wanted to say in response to that piece of stupidity, but she was not going to let her anger do the talking. So she did what any reasonable person would do - run away. She heard Cameron get up to follow her, and for once, she was grateful for his bad ankle because she was sure she could outpace him. The universe, however, decided to laugh at her, because when she tried to push open the door, it wouldn’t open. She put her weight against the door, but even then, it barely cracked open.

“Professor Gold? Is that you?” a from outside the door questioned. The sentence was punctuated by stifled yawn, confirming the voice as Walter. 

She could feel Gold still looming over her shoulder, his gaze burning into her, but chose to ignore him. “Walter, it’s Belle. The door won't open. What’s happening?” she asked through the door. 

There was a small pause before Walter spoke again, a nervous tremor entering his voice. “Belle? Oh, no. Is, uhm, is Professor Gold in there too?”

“Well, it is my office, dearie,” Gold snarked from behind her. 

She was glad her back was turned to him because, even though she was still annoyed with him, she couldn’t help the small quirk of her lips. Mentally giving herself a shake, she focused on the problem at hand. “Yes, Walter, Professor Gold is here, too. What’s going on? Why won't the door open?”

“The floor scrubber broke down and it’s too heavy to move by myself. I’ve called for Marco to come take a look at this, but unfortunately it might be a while before he gets here,” Walter said, causing Belle to drop her head against the door with a sigh. 

“And, pray tell, dearie, how long is ‘a while’?” Gold asked. The annoyance was clear in his voice, though she wasn’t sure if it was at Walter for being the bearer of bad news, or the fact he was stuck here with her.

She could hear Walter stifle another yawn before he spoke, something that was definitely not helping his case with Gold. “Uh, an hour? Maybe two? Marco wasn’t clear.” 

There was a nervous tone to Walter's voice, which wasn’t unexpected for most people when giving bad news to Cameron. But hidden underneath that, there was something else, something Belle couldn’t quite place. 

“So let me get this straight. The two of us are stuck in here until Marco shows up and can hopefully fix your machine?” Gold asked, still a loitering presence behind her. 

“...Yes.” 

Belle could feel a headache coming on, and she was really regretting not going straight home after her last class. “Thank you, Walter. Let us know of any updates. Please?” 

When she got confirmation from Walter, she let the reality of the moment sink in. 

She was trapped in a room with Cameron Gold. 

For a second, her heart stuttered with thought of being trapped anywhere, her claustrophobia triggering, and she had to take several breaths to calm herself. She reminded herself that she had been in this room hundreds of times, that, even with the current chaos in their relationship, Cameron would never hurt her, and that it was just for a few hours. Still, it took a conscious effort to relax her body and keep the nervous tremors to just her hands. When she was sure she wasn’t going to freak out, she straightened up and turned to face her next issue. 

Cameron was closer than she expected, close enough she could smell his cologne. The scent of sandalwood transported her back to her dream from weeks ago, and now she was fighting back the flush that wanted to rise up. He was saying something to her, but she didn’t hear it - her brain was transposing the dream to reality. 

“You are full of surprises, dearie.” Lips crashing together, hands tugging at hair, desperate to be closer. 

Cameron tilted his head and said something to her again, concern flickering across his face. 

“Should I stop, Miss French?” Words spoken against the curve of her neck, seeking out the spots that made her cry out. 

A hand on her shoulder and more words spoken. 

“You left me for a month, and for that I’m going to make you scream, little Belle.” A promise spoken as he drove her closer to that edge but refused to let her reach. 

A month gone, a month without seeing him, a month without talking to each other. Concern in his eyes, a shake to her shoulder.

“Some of us have to actually work. We don’t get a month off because we made the wrong choice of hookups, dearie.” Anger in his voice, disdain dripping from his words. 

She stepped back from the hand on her shoulder, letting the dreams fall away and focusing on reality. What was said in her dreams were just that, dreams, but what Cameron had implied about her was real. Taking another step back, she hit the door, but there was now enough space between them that she could think straight, at least. 

Slowly, he pulled his hand back, settling both on the handle of his cane, adopting a blank face. “Belle, are you okay? You spaced off there for a second.” 

“I’m fine,” she lied. 

She wasn’t fine. She was far from fine at this point. She was annoyed by his earlier comment, the insinuation that came with it, and more annoyed because despite that, she still wanted him. 

“Miss French, I’m sor-” Gold started to apologize but Belle held up a hand to silence him. 

She wasn’t ready to hear his apology because she wanted to be mad at him. Because that was the correct response when someone suggests that you chose to sleep around rather than work or attend school. She knew herself, if he apologized she would forgive him, because she knew Cameron Gold. She knew that he hadn’t meant what he said, or what was implied by it. It was easier to not accept his apology, to ignore the regret in his eyes, and stay angry, because the other option was to accept the apology and know that the man she loved had said it. 

Stepping around him, she bypassed her usual seat and took up residence in one of the two comfortable leather chairs on the opposite end of the office from his desk. There was a small table set up between the two chairs. In the past, it was used when they decided to take their tea here rather than at his desk. Those were the times where they would get lost in discussion and Belle would realize she had spent hours here simply talking with him. 

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she pulled her laptop from her bag and set it up on the table. Since she was stuck here, she might as well get some work done. While she didn’t actually have a paper to write for Midas, she did have some research she wanted to get done before her next class. From the corner of her eye, she could see Gold still standing by the door, position unchanged, for a moment before he went to his desk. 

For the next hour, they both worked in silence, something familiar but new at the same time. She had spent many hours in this office in silence with Cameron in the past, her working on a paper or reading a book while he did his own work. In the past, though, it had always been a comfortable silence. This was a silence filled with words unspoken. 

She hated that their relationship had come to this, where they couldn’t even be in the same room without this awkwardness, but she didn’t know how to address it, either. How do you apologize for being a complete mess around your teacher because you can’t help picturing him bending you over his desk, without sounding like a complete creep? Yeah, she’d be keeping that particular apology to herself. 

At some point, Gold brought over a cup of tea, leaving it silently on the table before going back to his desk. When she took a sip, she was pleased to find it was the white tea she preferred instead of the oolong he usually made for himself. He had previously kept some on hand when she was a frequent visitor, and she was glad he hadn’t gone as far as to get rid of it because of their tiff. The fact it was made exactly to her taste wasn’t lost on her, either. The duality of man endured. 

Despite the tense atmosphere, Belle still managed to get a good amount of work done on her research. Trouble came when she needed to cite a specific point from a book she had read, but when she searched her bag, she realized she didn’t have the book on hand. She knew she could technically leave it and come back to it later, but she wanted to move on. Luckily, she knew that Gold had the same copy of the book as she did. After all, she had given it to him. The real trouble would be finding where he put it. 

She knew that there was a method to his madness, and while she probably knew his system better than most people, she hadn’t the slightest clue where he would have stashed it. Could she ask where it was? Absolutely. Was she going to? Well, that would ruin the quiet peace they had settled into and, if she really wanted to be honest with herself, she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to talk to him. She wasn’t upset anymore, but she also didn’t know what to make of his earlier statement. 

When she moved to the nearest bookshelf, she caught the slight movement of his head as he tracked her from the other side of the room. She moved shelf to shelf, fingers trailing over spines as she went. There were a few new books that had been added in her absence and she made note to look into them on her own time. 

As she got closer to his desk, Gold seemed to give up all pretense of whatever work he had been doing and was outright watching her. When she bent down to look at one of the lower shelves, she heard his slight intake. 

“What do you want, sweet Belle?”

“Miss French, what are you looking for?” Cameron’s voice sounded from behind her and she wasn’t sure if the strain in his voice was real or her mind playing tricks on her again. 

“A book,” she replied without looking back at him. 

“Yes, I gathered as much. Care to say which one?” Cameron asked. He was closer than before, and she knew if she looked over her shoulder, he’d be towering over her. 

Belle slowly stood back up and turned around. She had been right - he was closer than she expected, and even with her heels, he still had a couple inches on her. Meeting his eyes, she responded back simply, “No.”

Seeming to realize how close he was to her, Gold tried to step back but hit his desk and something flickered in his expression before smoothing out. When he spoke, his voice was calm as ever. “Really, Miss French?” 

Belle took another step closer - they were nearly chest to chest now - and raised an eyebrow in a challenge. “Really, Professor Gold.” 

It took all her will power to remain calm and collected, but this was just as much a test for her as it was for him. Cameron Gold thrived on making people uncomfortable with his presence. She wanted to see how he did on the other end of it. 

His eyes flickered to her lips. For one heart stopping second, she thought he might actually breach that distance between them like he did in her dreams. 

Then the second was over and the mask of Professor Cameron Gold slid back into place. “Really, dearie, your stubbornness is admirable, but I’d have thought you’d spend your time more wisely. You’ve lost enough of it already.”

“Really, dearie, I’d think you’d show some more commitment.”

“We don’t get a month off because we caved to our hormones and made the wrong choice of hookups, dearie.”

Dream and reality intertwined again, two Golds flashing through her mind, both wearing the same smug smile. That same implication being thrown at her. He was going to be the death of her. She didn’t know if she wanted to yell at him or strangle him. So she chose the third option. 

She kissed him.

------------

Being trapped in a room alone with Belle was a special kind of torture, so when that subtle hint of strawberries that he so heavily associated with her drifted to him, he couldn’t help but look up. With her back turned and attention diverted, he allowed himself the brief opportunity to look his fill of her. When she bent over to look at one of the lower shelves, he barely contained the gasp as her skirt was pulled taut, giving him a view of her rear end that would be playing in his dreams for many nights to come. She was going to be the death of him.

He forced himself to speak to her, telling himself that the sooner she found the book she was looking for, the sooner he regained his sanity. Her mere presence was setting him on edge. Like before, he hadn’t meant for his words to be so sharp, but her proximity was maddening. He hadn’t realized they were so close, just a few scant inches between them, until he tried to step back and came into contact with his desk. She wetted her lips, seemingly unconscious of motion, drawing his gaze to her mouth. 

She was just inches away from him, pink rosebud lips twisted up in a small smile. Dear God, she was going to kill him. “Do we have a deal, Cam? ”

He wasn’t even really sure of what he said to her - something snarky to push her away, he was sure. Her eyes sparkled with blue fire, her face flushed with anger, her hands twitching at her side like she was holding back from slapping him. She had never been so beautiful, and she was rightfully pissed off at him. So when she reached for him, he expected a slap. What he didn’t expect was to be pulled in by his suit jacket and to be kissed senseless. 

Senseless was the perfect word to describe him, because he wasn’t sure what was happening and how he’d ended up here. He had to be dreaming. He must have nodded off at his desk and this was just another dream where he’d wake up alone and unsatisfied. There was no way that this was real and Belle, beautiful, wonderful, Belle French was kissing him, but even though he knew it had to be a dream, he was weak. 

His hands sunk into her hair, holding on to her as tight as she held him, and caved to the pressure of her lips. He swallowed the little gasp she loosed when he nipped at her lower lip, then soothed the hurt over. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his own hair, as she pressed closer to him. The edge of his desk was digging into his back, but he ignored it. Even in his dreams, he never got tired of kissing her, the little noises she made when he deepened the kiss, the way she gripped at his hair sending little sparks of pleasure through him. He couldn’t get enough. He needed more. 

Cameron spun them around so that he could sit her on the desk, or at least he attempted to. Belle’s squeak of surprise was covered by his own gasp of pain as sharp pain shot through his bad ankle when he reversed their positions. As the joint threatened to give out on him, he found himself leaning against the desk, caging her in. Cursing himself, he let his head drop to crook of her neck, placing an open mouth kiss to the skin there. 

“Some dream,” he murmured against her. 

Belle’s hands, which had slipped under his suit jacket at some point, froze at the buttons of his waistcoat. “Dream?” 

Cameron hummed in assent against her throat, nipping at the skin there, determined to leave a mark. He protested when he felt her pushing at his chest, forcing him to take a step back. The action sent another twinge of pain through his ankle, and that combined with the confused look on Belle’s face finally had things sinking in. He had been dreaming of Belle for months now and never had his ankle ever caused him trouble. He’d had her six ways from Sunday, against every fixture in his office, and across his home, and not once had he felt the slightest twinge of pain. In his dreams, he was almost what she deserved, whole, unburdened by his defects. 

Shock transformed into dread as he took another step back from Belle. She was still looking at him with that look of confusion. “Sweetheart. Belle. Miss French!” He stumbled over his words, his normally golden tongue turned to lead. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You dreamt of me?” Belle asked, tracing the spot on her neck that he had nipped at. 

There was definitely going to be a mark. His previous desire to mark her had turned to guilt, which curdled in his stomach. Regina was finally going to get her excuse to get rid of him and he had no one to blame but himself. He had assaulted a student because he couldn’t differentiate between dream and reality.  

“Miss French. I offer no excuses for my behavior. It was uncalled for and inapp-”

“Did you dream of me?” Belle cut him off. The look of confusion had been replaced by something akin to shock. 

He could lie. He probably should lie. Claim insanity, lack of sleep, illness, anything to save his skin. But he couldn’t do that. He could deny her nothing, not even now when every word he said would damn him. “That I did does not excuse my actions.” Accepting his fate, he continued, “You do not need to trouble yourself, Miss French. I am going to go straight to Dean Mills -”

Belle cut him off once again, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Cameron loosed a humorless laugh. “Because, despite my actions tonight, I have no desire to lose my job.”

She paced past him towards where she had been sitting before, wrapping her arms around herself, looking almost fragile. “So you chose your job over me.”

“Over you? What do you…” He trailed off at the look on Belle’s face. Suddenly, things started to click in his head. Belle had kissed him. She had pulled closer. She had been the one who had been at work at his clothes. Yes, he had kissed her back, but she had initiated it. She hadn’t pulled away or tried to stop him. She had responded back enthusiastically. “You’re not upset?”

It was Belle’s turn huff out a laugh. “Oh, I’m upset. You wanted me, but rather than tell me and let me make a decision on it, you pushed me away. That’s why you did it, right? Why you’ve been pushing me away? Why you’ve been such a prick?”

“I couldn’t tell you! You’re a student, Belle! It’s inappropriate and nothing could ever come from it. Not to mention, there was never even the slightest indication that my thoughts, my feelings, would be reciprocated.”

Belle looked at him like she wanted to strangle him - a look he was more accustomed to seeing from Mal or Regina. “No indication? Cameron, I was here every single day. I spent hours with you here! You were the first person I came to when I thought I was going to have to leave school. Even Ruby figured it out! You’re taking the coward’s response, claiming that you didn’t know, that you feared for your job. It wasn’t that there were no indications, you just didn’t think I could want you.”

Years of practice keeping a neutral expression was the only thing preventing him from physically recoiling at her words. Because she was right. If he looked back on their relationship over the last few years, it really was obvious. Little touches and looks shared between them now had more meaning and depth. She was also right that instead of acknowledging what was now clear, he had run, because even with her own admittance of her feelings, he still found it hard to believe. It was much easier to believe that she could never want him.

“You didn’t say anything, either. Instead, you went away!” His words were harsh, an accusation more than a statement. 

Belle’s brows furrowed in confusion before understanding. “I didn’t ‘go away,’ I got sick!”

“Yes, I know. You were sick .” He watched the implication of his words hit her. She had gotten mono, and he knew how that was spread. She might have had feelings for him, but that hadn’t stopped her from kissing someone else. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Are you serious, Cameron?” She questioned him, her tone both annoyed and exasperated. “I’m not having a conversation like this. When you get your head out of your ass, we can talk.” She turned her back to him, crossing the distance to her chair and started gathering her stuff back in her bag. 

Anger sparked in him, anger based out of shame because she was right to dismiss him like this. He should let her try to leave and put this whole thing out of his mind, preferably utilizing the bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer of his desk. He didn’t, though. He limped after her, crowding her space again. 

“Unfortunately for you, we are still stuck here together, dearie.” Cameron watched as Belle straightened at his words, her hands twitching at her side. 

“Don’t call me that, Cameron.” Her request was quiet, a change from their earlier raised voices. 

He smiled a shark's grin at her back, and like a shark, he could scent blood in the water. A good man wouldn’t go after a weakness like this, but he never claimed to be a good man. He was already crowding her space, but he leaned in even closer, to whisper in ear, “And why not, dearie?”

Belle spun around to face him, that blue fire from earlier sparking once more in her eyes. He wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see the similarities to their encounter just minutes ago. Belle’s hands were clenched at her side, a slight tremor to them, but she looked at him like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap him or pull him close. The room was silent with only the sound of their breathing, each waiting for the other to break. In the end, he was the weak one, but then he always knew he was. All it took was her tongue coming out to wet her lips and he crumbled.

Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled her to him, eliminating the small distance between them, and kissed her hard. There was no hesitation in Belle’s response, her hands gripping his shoulders. The kiss was rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues. She sucked at his bottom lip, tugging at it with her teeth, drawing a low groan from him. The reality of kissing Belle was better than any dream he’d ever had. In his dreams, she always tasted of strawberries and sweetness, but kissing Belle now, he could taste the tea he had given her earlier, sweet but with an underlying astringent tartness that was uniquely Belle. 

She was the one who broke away first, kissing along his jaw, making his head drop back, her name released with moan. His hands came to grip her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her shirt had come untucked from her skirt and he traced the sliver of skin that had been revealed, feeling her shiver under his hands. 

She sucked at a spot just below his ear and, with her pressed up against him, he knew she could feel him hard against her belly. When she bit down at that same spot, he swore, and he felt her smile against him. When she started shoving at this suit jacket, he let her go long enough to shuck it off, and when she started on the buttons of his waistcoat, he removed it, too. 

With that barrier gone, he dipped his head to kiss her again, probing her mouth, finding again those spots that made her gasp and squirm against him. When he cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking over the material of her blouse and bra, her nails bit into him through the silk of his shirt. He wanted to feel them in his skin, scoring his back as he brought her pleasure again and again. He could feel the hardened points of her nipples through her shirt and it was too many layers for him.

He wanted to feel her skin against his. 

He went to work at the tiny pearl buttons of her blouse but found himself fumbling as Belle ducked her head to kiss the dip of his collar bone, teeth tugging at the skin. He wasn’t sure when she had gotten rid of his tie or undone the first few buttons of his shirt, but he couldn't find it in him to care. When she nipped at him at the same time as she scraped her nails over his nipples, he damn near lost his mind. 

Gripping her blouse on either side, he ripped it open, buttons popping off and skittering across the floor, drawing a surprised squeak from Belle as he pushed it from her shoulders. Underneath, she was wearing a dark blue lace bra, a delicious contrast to her pale skin, and for a moment, he was speechless as he took in the sight of her. Her hair was mussed by his hands, her lips shiny and swollen from his kisses. The mark he left on her neck was darkening to a bruise that anyone would be able to see, and her breasts, pushed up by her bra, were the perfect size for his hands. She was perfect. He traced a finger along the cup of her bra, just barely letting his nail scrape across skin that was as soft as silk.

“So damn gorgeous.” Bending his head, he ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple through the lace of her bra, murmuring against her skin, “God, I want you. I want you so much. I want to feel you around my fingers, I want to taste you on my tongue, I want to feel the way you grip my cock as I slide deep into you. I want to hear you scream my name as I make you come again and again.” 

He could feel Belle’s breath hitch in her chest at his words, her hands gripping his shoulders. There was a slight tremor to her hands and he pulled back to look at her. “Tell me to stop, Belle. Tell me to stop and we can forget this ever happened. I’ll go to Dean Mills. I’ll quit and you won't have to see me. Tell me to stop and I’ll never bother you again. Tell me to stop.”

Belle stared at him, and for a second he thought she was going to do it, but then she was pushing him back until his legs hit the chair she had been sitting in earlier. He fell into the chair and watched in awe as Belle shucked off her shirt and bra before climbing into his lap. God, she was going to be the death of him.

------------

Belle knew this wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t care at the moment. She didn’t know what she had expected when she had kissed Cameron, but ending up topless and in his lap with his confession that he wanted her still ringing in her ears had not been it. The fact that he had purposely pushed her away because of those feelings and his comment about her ‘going away’ infuriated her, but she wasn’t focusing on that. She’d be mad at him later. 

Cameron’s hands bracketed her waist before tracing up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. He looked at her with a wicked glint in his eye before bending his head to kiss his way down her chest. When he reached her nipple, he used his tongue to trace around the hardened bud before sucking at it. Her hands found their way into his hair again. It was even softer than she had imagined, holding his head to her breast. The combination of the wet heat of his mouth and his fingers mimicking the motion on her other breast had her mind going fuzzy. When he used his teeth to tug at her nipple, she had to bite her lip to silence the moan that burst forth. 

Using her grip on his hair, she drew his mouth back to hers, parting his lips and sliding in to taste him. God, the man could kiss, and the brief thought of what else he could do with that tongue had her arousal skyrocketing. She pulled away and his eyes met hers, his pupils blown wide with lust. 

She kissed her way down his neck, tasting the salt of his skin and feeling his pulse pound beneath her lips and tongue. When she bit down lightly at the juncture of his neck, his head fell back against the chair and his hands gripped her thighs. She ran her tongue over the bite, tempted to leave a mark to match the one he had given her, but decided against it. 

She nipped at the triangle of skin she had uncovered earlier, enjoying the rumbling groan he loosed. She worked on unbuttoning his shirt, revealing more of that smooth, tanned skin, exploring the contours of his chest with lips and tongue. When she scraped her teeth over his nipple, payback for his own actions, he hissed and his grip tightened on her thighs. She was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow, but at the moment, she didn't care. She wanted to see him lose the composure he held so tightly to. 

Belle swirled her tongue around the bud at the same time as she started rocking her hips against him. She could feel him hard and thick beneath her, and when she rubbed herself against him, he groaned out her name. Even through the layers of their clothes, she could feel the heat of him, and she ached for him to be inside of her. She had been keyed up from the first kiss and she knew she was making a mess of his pants and, if she was honest, she liked the thought of it. 

She kept up the slow rock of her hips against his as she trailed kisses up his chest and neck. The roughness of his pants combined with how wet she was provided a delicious friction that was driving her closer and closer to that peak. Each movement of her hips forced the hard length of him bumping against her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her.  

Cameron was practically panting beneath her, head thrown back against chair and watching her through heavy lidded eyes. His hands moved slowly along her thighs. His fingers teased just under the hem of her skirt where it had risen up on her thighs when she straddled him. She knew the light teasing touch was his own way of torturing her, and damn if it wasn’t working. He was so close to where she wanted him, but he refused to take that final step. When his thumbs brushed over her inner thighs, just inches from where she was wet and aching, it was her time to suck in a gasp. She knew he could feel how wet she was, but still he didn’t press forward. He was going to be the death of her. The bastard. 

Well, two could play that game. 

Belle placed an open mouth kiss just below his ear at the same time she ground down on him. The noise he let out sounded suspiciously like a whimper. 

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me”

She smiled and nipped at the same spot, drawing out another whimper. When she spoke, she let her lips brush against the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder beneath her. “Is this what you dreamt of, Cameron? Fucking me right here in your office?”

“Belle, please.”

Belle was always going to remember this moment, the illustrious Cameron Gold completely at her mercy. At her mercy and begging, begging for her put him out of his misery. But she wasn’t quite done yet. She nipped at his earlobe, drawing another groan from him. 

“I dreamt of you, too. I’ve dreamt of you bending me over your desk and fucking me til I screamed your name. I’ve dreamt of getting on my knees and taking you in my mouth until you explode. I’ve spent so many nights aching for your touch, left with nothing but the empty satisfaction of my own fingers.” 

She felt Cameron’s thumb just barely brush the lace edge of her panties and she knew she had him. She placed a kiss to that spot right under his ear again as she took his hand and brought him fully between her legs. “Don’t make me suffer that again.” 

Like when she kissed him before, there was only a moment of hesitation before he broke. His fingers pushed aside the silk and finally he was touching her. Dear God, he was going to be the death of her.

------------

He was touching her. Belle French was in his lap and was begging for him to touch her. He was a weak man. A better man would have stopped this before they had gotten to this point, but he had never claimed to be a good man. So when she brought his hand between her legs, he didn’t hesitate to push the soaked material of her panties and touch the slick flesh beneath. She was incredibly soft and wet and made the most delicious little noises as he stroked through her folds. He wanted to memorize every noise and shudder as he learned how to drive her insane. 

When he pushed a finger into her, they both released a loud groan at the feeling. She was so fucking tight and wet, feeling like wet silk gripping him, and he could only imagine how she’d feel wrapped around his cock as he fucked her. When he added a second finger, Belle let out a cry loud enough to remind him that while they were essentially locked in, his office was in no way soundproof, and it would not be hard to figure out exactly what was happening in here. 

Capturing her mouth, he swallowed down her cries as he curled his fingers inside her and used his thumb to circle the hard bud of her clit. His tongue stroked over hers, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her close as she started to work herself on his hand. He could tell she was getting close, sweat beading on her upper lip and the muscles of her thighs twitching as she rocked against him. He needed to see her come, needed to see her reach that pinnacle of pleasure and know it was because of him. He cupped her breast, plucking at her nipple in time with the rhythm of fingers. 

Belle came with a muffled cry, her teeth sinking into his lip, her juices soaking his fingers as he kept his fingers moving, drawing out her pleasure. She broke the kiss as she gasped for breath, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm and chest heaving invitingly. Slowly he withdrew his fingers from her slick heat, holding her gaze as he slid both into his mouth. God, she tasted delicious. He wanted more of her, he wanted to spread her out on his dining room table and feast on her. Drink her down until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name. He was addicted to her and was happy to drown in her. 

Gold was painfully hard at this point and ached to be inside her. Belle must have felt the same way, because after only a moment to breathe, both of them were scrambling to get his belt and pants undone. No sooner did Belle get the zipper down than she reached in and released his cock. The first touch of her hand on him had him throwing his head back with a garbled groan. He watched from hooded eyes as she started stroking him base to tip, and it took all his willpower to not spill himself in her hand like some green youth. 

“Sweetheart, if you don’t stop, we’re both going to be disappointed.”

The small quirk of Belle’s mouth was all the warning he got before she swept her thumb over the head of him, spreading the bead of moisture she found there. 

“Minx!” he growled, grabbing her around the waist to pull her in for another kiss. The result ended up putting her heat in direct contact with his cock, and the kiss turned into a groan from both of them. 

“Belle, please. I need to feel you. Please, sweetheart.” Cameron Gold was a proud man, he had fought his way up from the bottom, never asking for anything, taking what he had earned. Then in came Belle French and he was reduced to begging for her touch, and yet he didn’t regret a single thing beyond the fact it took so long for them to get here. 

Belle leaned over the edge of the chair for a moment, giving him a lovely view of her rear end, coming back up holding a condom between her fingers. There was a flash of a prickly feeling that could only be categorized as jealousy as he wondered who she had originally planned to use it with. He wondered if it was the same person who gave her mono, but before he could say something stupid, Belle was rolling the condom over him and all thoughts beyond needing to be in her left his mind. She was going to be the death of him.

Had someone told her this morning that she’d be straddling her professor, his cock in her hand, after the best orgasm she’d ever had, Belle would have called them insane. Then she’d have made sure that her dream journal hadn’t been found. But as she rose above him, running the head of him through her folds, she couldn’t help thinking this is exactly where they were meant to be. Cameron was looking up at her, his face a picture of pure adoration, and damn if that didn’t make her feel powerful. 

With him poised at her entrance, she hesitated for just a second. “There’s no going back from this, Cameron.”

Things were irrevocably changed for them regardless at this point, but if they broke past this final hurdle, things could never go back to where they were. She had claimed earlier he had chosen his job and his position over a chance of happiness with her, and she was offering him the chance now to choose what he really wanted. If he told her to leave, she would be heartbroken, but she would leave and never bother him again. If he told her to stay, she didn’t know what the future would have in store for them, but they would face it together, at least. 

Cameron’s hands had returned to her thighs, and from the way he gripped her, she knew it was taking all his power to not thrust up into her. “Please, Belle.” His voice had deepened to the rough burr she had imagined in her dreams so many times. 

“I need you to say it, Cameron. I need you to say it so I know this is happening. I need to know this is real and I’m not going to wake up alone again.”

Something flashed in his eyes for a second, but it was gone again in a blink. His hands moved from her hips to cup her face, the scent of her arousal still lingering on his fingers. He pressed a kiss to her lips that was so gentle in comparison to the words he uttered next. “I want to fuck you, Belle. I want to fuck you so much it hurts. I want you hard and fast, and I want to take my time with you until you are begging for release. I want to leave you sated and sore, so that you remember me with every step you take. I want you every single way I can have you, but most of all? I just want you.”

Cam’s words washed over her, and with a smile, she sank down on him. She gasped and he swore at the first feel of him pressing into her. She told herself not to rush it, to take her time, because she didn’t know what the future held in store for them and she wanted this to last. That thought went out the door the second he was fully sheathed in her. The feel of him, hard and thick in her felt amazing, and she wondered how in the hell they had gone three years without this.

Belle rocked against him, enjoying the way he cursed and gripped her hips, drawing her back down onto him again. His hips thrust up to meet hers, and soon the room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin and their stifled moans. 

She truly meant to go slow, to draw it out until they were both aching for release, but then Cameron hooked his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. The change of angle had him hitting some place inside her that made her see stars. He felt so fucking good inside her, the combination of the thick, hard length of him and the friction from the coarse hair of his groin against her clit as she ground down against him had quickly had her climax approaching.

“Cam…” Belle didn’t know what she was begging for, but he seemed to understand her, regardless. The hand not around her came back to her breast, cupping and squeezing her, while his mouth sought her again. Her own hands clutched at his shoulders, nails biting into the skin as she used him for leverage. 

Too soon, she felt that familiar rising ecstasy, and she could tell Cameron was close, too, his cock growing harder within her. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their breaths coming in gasps and pants. Cam kissed along her chest and up her neck, nipping at the mark he had made, her name a muffled mantra as he thrust up into her. She was so close and she wanted to let go, to tip over that knife point of pleasure and bring him with her.

“Come for me, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful when you come. Come for me, Belle. Let me feel you come around my cock.” Cam’s voice was pure sin, straight from her dreams, his thickened accent making his words come out as a near growl. The words spoken in her ear, lips teasing the shell of her ear, in combination with his hand and hips moving in tandem were just what was needed to push her over the edge. 

She bit down on the juncture of Cameron’s neck and shoulder to muffle her cry as she came. Cameron’s answering curse was not nearly as silent as she felt him pulsing inside her as he found his own release. 

Belle’s head dropped to Cam’s shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She felt Cam kiss her head and she smiled against him. This was definitely not what she had expected from this meeting, but she wasn’t going to complain. Maybe now things could finally go back to normal.

------------

Cameron Gold was sure he was dreaming, because he had a lapful of Belle French, who had admitted she had wanted him. He knew there were things they needed to talk about, but all he could focus on was the soft press of her body against his. She was snuggled into his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss to her head. He breathed in the scent of her, that ever present scent of strawberries now mixed with the scent of his cologne. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. 

Reality apparently had a different plan, however. 

Belle pulled back so she could look at him and gave him a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he repeated back. He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over the silky smooth skin, pulling her down to brush his lips again against hers. 

“Professor Gold, I’ve got the machine working. You should be free in just a moment!” The heavy Italian accent of Marco Albero, the college’s head of maintenance, was like a bucket of cold water over him. The sound of movement on the other side of the door was an extra shot of ice down his spine. 

Belle pulled back with a surprised squeak and quickly scrambled out of his lap, and he had just enough sense of mind to hold the base of the condom as he slipped from her. Belle was a flurry of motion, smoothing down her skirt and righting her bra before he had truly processed what was happening. 

Gold knew that if the door was opened and anyone saw their disheveled forms, they could both be in trouble. There was no way anyone could look at him sitting there, shirt undone and cock out, and then at Belle, shirtless and covered in marks from his hands and mouth, and not infer what had happened here. 

Logically, he knew that if found out, there could be severe repercussions for both of them. He was not only her teacher but technically her boss, too. Regina hated him enough as it was. This would be all the ammunition she needed to finally send him packing. Not to mention what it would do to Belle’s academic career. He knew this all logically. However, all he could see was the fear on Belle’s face at the thought of being caught with him. 

“Get dressed! They can’t see us like this!” Belle hissed at him as she picked up her shirt from where he had tossed it to the floor. 

Fifty years of self loathing came whispering in his ear. She was embarrassed to be seen with him. Desiring someone was one thing, wanting to be with them was another. Anger and shame roiled in his gut, banishing all traces of the happiness he was feeling before. 

He righted his pants, tucking himself away and limping over to the trash can to dispose of the condom. Belle was looking at her shirt, but the majority of the buttons were scattered across his floor. He took up his cane from where he had set it before this had all gone down and went to the wooden storage cabinet. He kept a spare shirt and suit pants inside, and he took out the shirt and tossed it to Belle. 

“Here. To cover your shame.” His words came out icy and sharp, drawing a glare from Belle. 

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Belle pulled the shirt on, only buttoning it halfway down before tying the ends in a knot, baring a small slice of her midriff. The dark blue of the shirt gave her pale skin an almost luminous glow. 

Gold refused to meet her eyes, another act of cowardice on his part, and focused on buttoning up his own shirt. “Well, you’ve had your fun. You can run along home to whoever it is that keeps you warm at night. I trust you’ll want to keep your indiscretion quiet, after all”

Belle took a step back like he had struck her, and his stomach churned at the hurt look that crossed her face before it was replaced with fury. “Are you serious, Cameron?”

“Don’t worry, dearie, you won't have to worry about any more absences due to me. But maybe given your own history, perhaps I should be the one concerned.” He gave her a cold look, putting as much venom as he could into it. “Should I perhaps get tested?”

He was angry, he was hurt, but mostly he felt used. He had never expected her to want him, but when she had kissed him he briefly thought she did. For a brief moment, he thought she had felt the same way he did. But it seemed he was no more than a way to scratch an itch. So he did what he always did, he lashed out. Pushing away those he loved. 

Belle was shaking with anger and a tiny part of him was glad. “You are a bastard.”

“I never claimed to be otherwise, dearie,” he hissed back at her. 

The air was thick with tension, both of them glaring at each other. He could see Belle’s clenching and unclenching her hands and he wondered if she was going to slap him. He’d deserve it for sure. Both of them waited for the other to say something else, to completely shatter what was left of this relationship. 

“There we go! All fixed.” Marco’s voice shattered the silence as the office door swung open. 

There was a moment of awkward silence as he seemed to pick up the tension between them, but then Belle spun on her heel and flashed him one of her winning smiles. 

“Thank you so much, Marco!” She went over and kissed the older man on his whiskery cheek, causing him to blush. “You’re just in time. I have got a date to get to.”

Gold gripped the cane hard enough that his knuckles turned white but managed to keep a neutral face. “Well, we’d hate for you to be late, Miss French. Please run along.”

Belle gave him one more hard look before she flounced out of the room. Marco mumbled something about the boiler room and quickly scuttled away, leaving Gold alone once more. 

Once he could no longer hear Marco’s steady footsteps, he went over to where Belle had dropped her shirt when she had put on his. The ivory lace was soft to his touch, but not nearly as soft as her skin had felt under his hands and lips. He sat back at his desk, tracing the delicate lace patterns with his finger. He thought about throwing it away. He was going to have to dispose of his trash before the cleaning crew came through, anyway. Instead, he unlocked the bottom left drawer of his desk. Carefully, he folded the shirt with all the care he could and tucked it into the back of the drawer next to a picture of a teenage boy with floofy brown hair and bright eyes. 

Locking the drawer once more, Cameron Gold sighed and rubbed at his temples. Belle French was a beautiful flicker of light in his life of darkness. Letting her go like this, pushing her away, was the best for her. Still, he knew one thing for certain. 

Belle French would be the death of him. 

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle

[ariel-seagull-wings]

@shelleythesapphic @oncexinxmyxdreams

@princesssarisa @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @thealmightyemprex @faintingheroine @grimoireoffolkloreandfairytales @softlytowardthesun @tamisdava2

Each movie studio executive will tell that marketable story of having an eureka moment about the creation of an iconic character or a franchise.

Walt Disney had the legend of creating the first draft of Mickey Mouse during a train ride.

Andy Mooney has the tale of getting the idea of marketing a line up of Disney Princesses for the young women demographic during a Disney on Ice line-up:

"This was back in 2000, soon after Mr Mooney, a Scot, had been appointed head of Disney's consumer products division.

Joining the company after 20 years at Nike, he was working hard to bring himself fully up to speed on every facet of the business. This included going to see a production of Disney on Ice, where figure skaters portray Disney characters.

While queuing to get in he noticed that a great many of the young girls - and also their mothers - had dressed up in generic princess dresses, to look like Disney heroines, such as Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.

Disney didn't sell such dresses at the time, but Mr Mooney immediately realised that the company was missing an incredibly lucrative trick.

"I was standing in line with mothers and daughters, all dressed head to toe in princess regalia that they had made at home," says Mr Mooney, 63.

"I said to a few of the mums 'if Disney made official dresses like this would you buy them?', and they all replied that they'd buy lots.

"So I rushed back to [Disney headquarters] in Burbank [Los Angeles], and we launched the Disney Princess series pretty quickly."

Not only did Mr Mooney and his team introduce dresses based on those worn by Disney's best-known female characters, they set to work on everything from books to lunchboxes, dolls, magazines, computer games, pyjamas, and tie-ups with food producers.

The idea was to start selling basically everything that female Disney fans, both young and old, might like to buy, all featuring one or more Disney princess."

Wheter the story of the Disney on Ice line up is true or not, the fact is that you can feel a sense of... territoriality. Originally, women in the audience (specially mothers and young daughters) would either buy the costumes of their favorite royal or non royal heroines on more afordable stores, or make by hand the costumes at home, and maybe dress up whatever doll they already head as the character they liked, out of love of movies they probably revisited many times.

An executive like Andy Mooney couldn't loose an oportunity to destroy this perceived competition, so a merchandise had to be quickly created in a manner similar to Barbie.

Even tought not everyone tought this was a good idea...

"Not everyone thought his idea would work, one person in specific who had trouble with it was Walt Disney’s own nephew Roy E Disney. The reasoning for his disapproval: he didn’t want the princesses to appear together outside their own film franchise’s. He thought it would ruin the magic. To appease Roy it was decided that for all marketing, none of the princesses would look at or interact in any way with each other.

In the beginning the original line-up was Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Pocahontas, Mulan and Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell was soon removed and in 2004 she started up the Disney Fairies franchise.

In order for a character to be given the title of a Disney princess the character must fulfil just one of the following:

1. Born Royal

2. Marry Royal

3. Perform a significant act of heroism

The third requirement was created just for Mulan who is the only one who isn’t born royal or marry royal.

They need to fulfil all of the following:

1. Be human

2. Be the female lead in an animated Disney movie

3. Not be introduced for the first time in a sequel

The unwritten but also most important rule: Their movie has to do well at the box office.

As they have not met the criteria some Disney characters have not been included in the line up. For example: Kida from Atlantis and Nala from The Lion King are both princesses in their films but don’t fulfil all of the requirements.

The reason why Anna and Elsa are not included in the Disney Princess Franchise is because Frozen was such a hit at the box office and Anna and Elsa have reached a level of fame on par with Mickey Mouse that it would have been a step down for Anna and Elsa to have been grouped with the other princesses. In other words, Anna and Elsa are so popular that they make more than enough profit on their own that they don’t need to be associated with the other princesses in order to sell merchandise."

While the Theme Parks, old Disney books and comic books, movies like Fun and Fancy Free, Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Mickey's Christmas Carol and cartoon TV shows like Walt Disney's Disneyland, Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color and House of Mouse extablished that, with careful writing and cohesive worldbuilding a crossover between Disney animated characters from different animated features is possible, there was fear about this line up putting the designated Princesses to interact with each other in a narative context. They could at best pose together statically in pôsters and comercials.

And then there is the contradiction of the name Disney Princess with the characters in the actual line-up. There are characters who fit in their criterion who yet are excluded, and characters who mostly break from it (even activelly being called Princesses in their movies) yet are forced under the Princess label anyway.

"The question is, if Disney has ever used criteria like this as guidelines for choosing Princess candidates, does the company really care about them? Tinkerbell, who was neither royal nor particularly heroic in Peter Pan (although she did save Peter’s life) used to have Disney Princess status until she was removed from the line-up and given her own book and movie series.

While she plays a significant role in Aladdin, Jasmine is more of a supporting character than a main one. Then there’s Merida, who has a spot on the list even though she’s a Disney Pixar character rather than Disney Animation Studios.

Yet supporting characters like Meg from Hercules, Jane Porter from Tarzan, and Esmeralda from The Hunchback of Notre Dame remain excluded from the list. 

Supposedly Mooney called the Princesses and the worlds they originated from part of “the Princess mythology.” This was his reasoning for removing Tinkerbell from the line-up, having decided she just didn’t fit.

So perhaps what matters to Disney is not a bunch of criteria in a list, but instead whatever characteristics they think will be marketable to their audience. As great as characters like Esmeralda and Meg may be, it’s the shimmery dresses, quests for love and adventure, and sense of magic that spark a child’s imagination."

So... Between the late 1999/2000, Andy Mooney and other Disney marketing executives hastily decide to create the Disney Princesses as a form to compete with Barbie and smaller costume makers who were selling cheaper interpretations of Princess Dresses for audiences of mostly young women to play their favorite Disney Ladies.

While animated movie characters were already proven possible, there was no idea on how to make the Princesses interact with another that felt cohesive, so for a long time the marketing chooses to present them in ways that are static, mostly focused on how pretty they look, rather than exploring their personalities and the dynamics of their worlds.

A Criterion about doing heroic actions is added to justify including characters like Pocahontas and Mulan, who aren't from royalty nor marry into royalty, based on the box office popularity of their movies and merchandise sails.

Meanwhile, other heroines who are equally heroic, main characters and/or even royals themselves, like Elonwy, Esmeralda, Meg, Jane and Kida are excluded because their movies (if not complete failures at the box office) aren't as popular with audiences at the time of their releases.

Non-humanoid female main characters who are also very popular with audiences, like Minnie Mouse, Lady, Duchess, Maid Marian, Miss Bianca and Nala are excluded.

Female characters are sometimes present, other times not, like Alice, Tinkerbell (before staring in her own franchise, the Disney Fairies) and Giselle, without ceremony.

Merida, the anti-Princess who is from a Pixar produced movie rather than a Disney character, is put in the label.

Then in recent years, Elsa and Anna from Frozen had been so popular, both in terms of movie tickets and merchandise sails, that while ocasionally they appear along with the other Princesses, the two are mostly sold as representatives of their own world of Arendelle.

And Moana, who is another anti-Princess character, this time from a movie produced by Disney itself, was also put under the Princess label.

IN CONCLUSION:

Compared to something like the Disney Fairies, which was built slowly and with attention to detaille and consistency in terms of criteria, the Disney Princess label has a trajectory that even to this day, 23 years after its foundation, its messy.

Characters who should be part of it, are excluded, while characters who activelly rejected the label, are forcet into it, with different reasons invented for why, but clearly selling points being the only thing that matters.

Maybe they should stop to rethink again, and consider this alternatives:

Either not having a label for all the lady characters at all, for they are so different, and let them carry their respective franchises (like it worked with Anna and Elsa).

Or try again, this time with a different name other than Princess, since it doesn't really represent the majority of the heroines they created, and this time, include everyone, from every movie, rather than constantly excluding.

#disney #andy mooney #disney princess #disney princesses #marketing #western animation #franchises

[salvawhores-world]

Sparks - Anthony bridgerton Part 1

Single dad! Anthony Bridgerton x young!fem oc (Florence Channingworth)

Warnings - single dad anthony, tooth rotting fluff, crazy bridgerton siblings , age gap. Uncle Ben has my whole heart

A/n- reader is of Eloise’s age. I imagine her as Emma Watson from belle and little women.She is nineteen and Anthony 30. It was quite common in those days and the age gap holds a key to the plot hence is emphasised more often I started writing this imagining girl dad Anthony had me in fits. It seems I’ve more than 1 part hehehe. Do not steal my work.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, once renowned as the charming rake of London, experienced a profound transformation the day his precious daughter, Ava Bridgerton, came into the world four years ago.

She became the very center of his universe, reshaping his priorities and molding him into the doting father he had never anticipated becoming.

Love for his daughter consumed him entirely, radiating from him in every interaction. The viscount's rakish tendencies were forsaken, for he no longer had time nor desire for them.

The idea of marriage had never been on his radar, but with Ava as his eternal companion, he found contentment beyond measure.

As for securing an heir, he entrusted that responsibility to his brothers, Benedict, Colin, or even young Gregory, confident that the viscount legacy would be safeguarded.

The Bridgerton household was bathed in warm sunlight as Ava's little legs propelled her eagerly towards her father's study.

“Dada!" she exclaimed, storming into the room. Anthony glanced up from his towering stack of papers, his heart instantly alight at the sight of his precious daughter.

Amongst the strict protocol of their home, Ava alone had the privilege of entering without knocking.

With eyes filled with adoration, Anthony beckoned Ava closer, opening his arms to envelop her in an embrace. "Yes, my little love?" he responded, his voice laced with affection and a touch of wonder.

“What do fencing and farming have to do with becoming with child?" Ava's words tumbled forth, her curiosity shining brightly.

Momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question, Anthony's sister Eloise's penchant for stirring up intriguing discussions had once again cast its enchanting spell.

Clearing his throat, Anthony sought the right words to navigate this delicate topic with his beloved four-year-old daughter. He couldn't bear to deceive her – Ava deserved nothing less than the truth.

Ava continued, her voice hushed and tender, her tiny fingers delicately twirling Anthony's thumb as he lovingly caressed her hair.

She recounted the events of their recent tea gathering in the drawing room, where Aunt Eloise had dared to inquire about the nature of conceiving a child without the prerequisite of marriage.

He silently chastised his mischievous siblings for placing him in such a predicament.

Leaning against her father's comforting presence, Ava continued to unravel the tale. Uncle Lin’s mention of farm visits, swiftly followed by Uncle Benny's playful reprimand and their grandmother's firm disapproval of improper conversation.

Anthony couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his siblings, convinced that they were intentionally conspiring to complicate his life.

In his heart, he secretly harbored thoughts of committing a murder– if only he could get away with it – with Colin and Eloise at the top of his imaginary list

Looking up at her father with her innocent eyes, framed by bangs that mirrored her Aunt Eloise's hairstyle, Ava sought answers. Anthony knew his little girl was wise beyond her years, her intellect far surpassing her tender age.

He sighed inwardly, contemplating how to address her inquiries. He yearned for the eloquence of his late father, Edmund, who always had the right words at the ready. But he reminded himself that he was Anthony, not Edmund, and that he needed to find his own way as a father.

"Like your grandma said, Ava, these are improper topics of conversation for now, my love," Anthony said, his heart aching at the disappointment reflected in her big brown puppy eyes. His little girl deserved the truth, but he also wanted to protect her innocence.

"Dada," Ava began, her voice filled with determination, "it's contradictory. You're not married, but you have me. You and Uncle Lin and Uncle Benny all fence, and they don’t have children. And none of you are married either." She presented her observations like a mini-lecturer, her inquisitive mind seeking understanding.

Her questions were indeed profound for a four-year-old, and he wished he had all the answers poised at the tip of his tongue, like his father Edmund always had.

"Sweetheart," he began, his voice filled with tenderness, "you are my very, very smart girl, aren't you?" His eyes held a mixture of pride and adoration.

“Being with child is a big concept, my little baby. When you grow up and your little head is ready, I promise to explain it all to you. It will be easier for you to grasp and understand."

Ava nodded, her eyes brightening with trust and innocence as she settled comfortably on her father's lap.

As their conversation continued, the father and daughter delved into other delightful topics, their interaction a heartwarming testament to the unbreakable bond they shared.

As dinner approached, Ava's determination to perfect her teacup sketch alongside her uncle Benedict in his art studio remained unwavering.

Anthony entered the drawing room, expecting to find his daughter. However, to his surprise, he discovered Colin and Gregory engaged in playful banter, while Francesca and Eloise quietly indulged in their book.

"Colin, you are hereby forbidden from opening that barbarous mouth of yours in front of my daughter ever again!" Anthony declared, his voice laced with exasperation.

Without hesitation, he swatted his brother on the head, eliciting a chuckle from Francesca. "Well, it seems I missed the epic incident that transpired this afternoon," Francesca remarked, her eyes still fixed on her book

“Perhaps my little Ava could regale us with the tale," Francesca suggested, peering up from her book to look at Anthony, who was busy rolling his eyes.

"Ah, the remarkable talent she possesses for storytelling," Eloise chimed in.

"That's precisely why you should never leave a child in the company of starving artists and heartbroken poets." Colin, couldn't resist adding

Sighing and brooding, Anthony made his exit from the drawing room, muttering under his breath, "Vicious bunch, the lot of you."

"Wow, would you just look at my incredibly talented little baby," Benedict exclaimed in awe, gazing up at the teacup sketched with Ava's tiny, charcoal-smudged hands.

“Uncle Ben, I can't seem to get this part right," she admitted, pointing to the saucer beneath. Before Anthony could enter the room, he was greeted by the heartwarming sight of his daughter perched on his brother's lap, receiving guidance.

"Ah, children," Anthony called out, his voice filled with affection. "Dada!" Ava's eyes lit up as she spotted her father, proudly presenting him with her sketch.

“Look, I made a teacup!" Her smile radiated pure joy, Chubby cheeks adorned with smudges of charcoal. Benedict gently wiped off the smudges, his adoration for his niece shining brightly.

"This is absolutely beautiful, my dear. I'm certain we have Uncle Ben's guidance to thank,” Anthony praised, beaming at the masterpiece.

Ava turned around, planting a sloppy kiss on Benedict's cheek. "Thank you, Uncle Ben. You're the absolute best!" she declared, her love for him evident in her words.

"And you, my darling, are my favorite person in the whole wide world," Benedict replied, his heart swelling with adoration for his beloved niece.

“Now, come on, you artists, I'm sure are both famished. It's dinnertime," Anthony interjected,

Anthony, guiding Ava down the stairs, holding her hand on one side, while Benedict held her other hand. In that moment, Ava truly embodied the cherished spirit of the Bridgerton family, loved and adored by all.

On a delightful morning, Eloise found herself in a fit of frustration, adamantly insisting on going to the spring book fair.

Violet, ever the concerned mother, refused to let her daughter wander the streets unaccompanied.

Naturally, Ava, who mimicked her beloved aunt in everything, also insisted on joining them at the fair.

As Anthony entered the room, his hat gracefully handed to the footman, he greeted the ladies amidst their bickering. "A very good morning to you, ladies," he chimed in, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Anthony, please talk some sense into your sister and daughter. They insist on going to the book fair," Violet pleaded, finally finding a moment to pour herself a cup of tea.

Eloise, walking towards her brother, continued to grumble, "Why must there always be this permission nonsense? Colin practically flies out of the door like a leaf!"

Little Ava followed her aunt quietly, her chubby hands swiftly grabbing a biscuit from Daphne's saucer on the way, earning a teasing glare from her aunt.

"But Eloise, we have an entire library here. What could you possibly find there that you don't have already?" Anthony questioned, genuinely curious.

Eloise's annoyance grew by the minute as she replied, "How will we ever know if we don't go, Anthony?"

Ava, standing beside them, joined in, her sweet voice chiming, "Yes, Dada, please! I want to see too!"

Anthony's gaze shifted downward to his daughter, her little hands holding a half-eaten biscuit, with crumbs lingering near her lips. He couldn't help but be captivated by her big, brown puppy eyes that mirrored his own.

Crouching down to Ava's level, Anthony lovingly brushed away the crumbs around her mouth. He then turned to Eloise and made a decision.

“Fine, if you both wish to go, I shall accompany you," he declared, lifting Ava into his arms as she hugged him tightly, brimming with joy. Together, they walked out of the room, embarking on their book fair adventure.

"Wow, it's like she's holding a secret Bridgerton family spellbook," Colin exclaimed with a mischievous grin, earning playful nods and from his siblings.

"Next time someone pushes Anthony to the edge, we'll just send in Ava, and poof! Instant peace and sanity restored!" His statement elicited laughter that echoed throughout the room, as they imagined the adorable Ava as their secret weapon against Anthony's moments of frustration.

The overcast afternoon provided a pleasant ambiance as Anthony held little Ava's hand, strolling amidst the book fair with his sister, Eloise.

Random lords greeted the viscount while Eloise searched for an edition of Elizabeth Gaskell's new novel. Little Ava, pointing and laughing at various sights, brought an air of joy to the group. Suddenly, they heard a commotion at one of the book stalls.

"Cease your wailing like a child for a toy! I arrived here first, and thus, I shall claim this book," a girl's voice asserted as they drew closer to the commotion.

Eloise noticed the very same novel clutched tightly in the lady's hand. Anthony observed a girl of Eloise's age, donned in a pastel lilac gown with meticulously arranged and adorned hair, clearly new to ton.

"Proper ladies do not engage in reading. Have you no inkling of decorum?" a young man, a year or so younger than Anthony, retorted with a haughty tone.

The girl scoffed at his words, her gaze ablaze with determination. “Only Illiterates do not engage in reading for the simple reason that they cannot, but then there exist individuals like you, whose intellect fails to grasp knowledge despite indulging in literature," she retorted with a fierceness in her stare.

In the midst of this exchange, Ava, clapping her tiny hands, caught the girl's attention.

Anthony furrowed his brow, looking at his daughter with confusion. "Most admirably expressed, miss," the girl turned and bestowed a smile upon little Ava.

Anthony glared at the man, disapproving of his inquisitive gaze towards his daughter, holding her hand firmly.

Delving into her pouch, the girl rummaged for pennies. "I should like to obtain that book," the man persisted.

“I should like to consign you to a hasty grave," she retorted through gritted teeth, his embarrassment palpable.

Having paid the shopkeeper, she raised her gaze and ordered the man to depart. He hastily retreated, disappearing from sight.

Approaching little Ava, the girl gracefully lowered herself, crouching before her. “Hello love I gather you possess an affinity for literature," she inquired, her voice gentle and melodious.

“Yes, miss, I love reading. My aunt Eloise here introduced me to the world of books," Ava responded, her pudgy finger pointing towards Eloise, who reciprocated the girl's smile.

"I daresay both of you possess exquisite taste," the girl affirmed with a smile. "Yes, and you are very, very pretty, almost like the angels my uncle Benny writes poems about," Ava complimented, leaving the girl in front of her in awe.

"Well, it takes one to see one. I'm sure your uncle would know," the girl responded referring to Ava,her smile enchanting.

Eloise introduced herself, saying, “hello , Eloise Bridgerton."The girl replied, "I am Florence Channingworth, and it is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Miss Flor... Flow... Flower, I am Ava Bridgerton." Florence beamed at the little girl's enthusiasm.Unable to pronounce Florence's full name, Ava chimed in eagerly,

“And this, is my father, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," Ava introduced her father. To say Florence was captivated by him would be an understatement. His countenance radiated extraordinary handsomeness.

"Good afternoon, Miss Channingworth," Anthony greeted, surprised by the magnetic presence of the young lady.

Love at first sight was a notion he had never subscribed to, but Florence's interaction with his daughter and her boldness in confronting the discourteous man intrigued him.

“Greeting, Lord Bridgerton," Florence replied, unable to divert her gaze from him.

“You are the daughter of the Duke of Gloucester, if I am not mistaken, Miss Channingworth?" Anthony inquired, recognizing the prestigious name.

Cascading waterfalls, enveloping him in a momentary trance. He quickly composed himself as she replied, "Indeed, my lord, I am the daughter of the Duke of Gloucester. We have recently arrived in the ton."

"I was precisely in search of that particular book, but it seems there is only a solitary copy available," Eloise interjected, her eyes fixated on the coveted novel as if she had discovered a long-lost treasure.

“Yes, it was just released, Miss Eloise, as you are undoubtedly aware," Florence replied, meeting Eloise's gaze with understanding.

A glimmer appeared in her eyes as she continued, "However, might I propose an arrangement? I shall embark upon reading this book, and within a week's time, I shall pen you a letter and hand it over along with the cherished novel."

"And perhaps, dear Ava, you and I could engage in a discourse about the book, if your father deems it agreeable," Florence suggested, turning her attention towards Ava and Anthony.

"Who cares about what Ava and her father do? I'm up for the discussion with you," Eloise exclaimed with infectious excitement, causing a mischievous grin to spread across Florence's face.

In the midst of the enthusiasm, little Ava pinched Eloise on the arm, for leaving her out prompting a surprised yelp from her

"Of course, Miss Flower, I... I would very much like that," Ava chimed in, her grin widening. She turned to her father, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

.”Wouldn't we, Dada?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation and a touch of cheekiness.

Ava looked up at her father with wide, pleading eyes, silently pleading for his approval.

Anthony couldn't deny the sparkle of joy in his daughter's eyes or the genuine warmth emanating from Florence.

"Of course, anything that brings happiness to my girls," he affirmed with a smile.

With a beam of satisfaction, Eloise exclaimed, "We shall eagerly anticipate our literary discussions, Miss Channingworth!"

“As shall I, Miss Eloise,” Florence replied, her smile radiating a genuine fondness for the spirited girl.

As Florence bid him farewell, her eyes lingering on him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing.

"I shall bid you adieu," she said, her gaze filled with a captivating tenderness.

"Have a splendid afternoon, Miss Channingworth," he replied, unable to conceal the fondness in his smile.

He watched Florence walk away, her graceful figure etching a bittersweet image in his mind. Little Ava, always observant, waved goodbye with unabashed enthusiasm, while Eloise radiated with excitement, relishing the newfound bond with her new book friend and the treasured novel she had acquired.

The Viscount couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events.

One moment, he was drowning his sorrows at White', and the next, he found himself engrossed in a conversation with three delightful ladies, discussing novels amidst the lively ambiance of the book fair.

"Dada, let's hurry home! I must inform Uncle Benny about the angelic Miss Flower, so he can compose more delightful poems," Ava exclaimed, her words breaking through her father's trance.

Her innocence and eagerness melted Anthony's heart, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth enveloping him.

After four eventful days, Florence found herself comfortably seated at home, diligently penning a letter to Miss Eloise.

She carefully wrapped the cherished book in a neat brown paper, preparing it for its journey. Lost in her thoughts,she heard a murmur,

"And this love letter is for..." Suddenly, her peaceful reverie was shattered by a familiar voice, causing her to let out a startled exclamation. The ink from her pen spilled onto the letter, creating an unfortunate mess.

She turned around to find Simon, her dear friend and brother, towering over her. "Simon!" she exclaimed, slightly exasperated as he enveloped her in a tight embrace.

“Please release me! You've ruined my letter," she protested, her words muffled by his hug.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my own sister. How are you faring? Are your romantic novel daydreams finally coming to fruition?" he teased, casting a mischievous glance at the book and the ink-stained letter, his eyes catching the familiar last name "Bridgerton."

"Shut your cheeky mouth! I met a companion at the book fair the other day, and I was penning a missive to her. But thanks to your irritating antics, it's all ruined now!"Florence's frustration grew, and she couldn't help but retort.

"Just when I thought you'd be elated to see me, it seems you prefer the company of strangers over your dear brother. I am utterly wounded," he remarked with a hint of jest. Simon feigned hurt, his expression mockingly pained.

"Ah, it appears my children have already commenced their squabbling." Before Florence could reply, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of His Grace, the Duke of Gloucester, her father. He entered the room and caught sight of his daughter and Simon, engaging in their playful banter. With a light-hearted tone, he commented.

"Father, Simon has appeared and started to vex me," she said, pointing towards the mischievous Basset boy.

"Well, why don't the two of you take a stroll together and catch up? I wouldn't want my children serving each others heads to me for dinner, which will surely happen if you remain cooped up in the house," their father suggested with a knowing smile.

Simon's smirk widened as Florence let out a groan. "Oh, Flo it seems we'll have to personally deliver your book," Simon remarked playfully.

"Have I mentioned my disdain for the male species?" she quipped, glancing at her father before walking away with the book in hand. Before leaving, she planted a kiss on her father's cheek, and he smiled warmly at his daughter's antics.

"I'll take good care of her," Simon assured her father, and the Duke of Hastings pulled him into a heartfelt embrace. "Welcome home, son," he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion.

The Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Hastings shared a deep bond, one that extended beyond their friendship and into the realm of family.

"Tell me more, Uncle Lin. Do they have angels like Miss Flower in Greece too?" Ava's newfound fascination with Miss Florence had taken over the Bridgerton household.

She was perhaps the first lady, outside of her aunts, who shared similar ideals—an uncommon occurrence that Ava found intriguing.

Ever since that day at the book fair, she had pestered Benedict for multiple poems, asked Eloise every day if she had received the letter yet, and requested Anthony to share more stories about Florence, given his knowledge of her father.

Unfortunately, Anthony could provide little information, as Simon had only mentioned the Channingworths in passing. Nonetheless, Ava seized every opportunity to bring up the Channingworth lady.

"Whoever this Flower is, will she ever bloom, or are we to be left with just stories about her?" Colin jested, eliciting laughter from the Bridgertons.

The entire family had gathered in the drawing room for their afternoon tea.

"His Grace, Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings, and Miss Florence Channingworth."Just then, the butler announced Anthony's excitement and confusion mingled together, and Eloise and Ava's eyes widened with anticipation, their gazes fixed on the entrance.

"Bridgerton!" Simon's voice filled the room with excitement, and the Bridgerton family promptly rose to their feet, showing their respect for the Duke of Hastings.

Anthony couldn't contain his joy and immediately pulled his best friend into a tight embrace. "Basset, it's good to see you," he greeted him warmly.

Florence, following closely behind Simon, observed their surprise reunion with curiosity. Unbeknownst to her, Anthony and Simon had been the closest of friends since their college days.

As she took in the scene, little Ava couldn't contain her excitement and dashed towards Florence, her pigtails bouncing with each step. Florence, delighted by the young girl's enthusiasm, knelt down to embrace her.

"Oh, I was waiting for you !” Ava exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration. Florence's face lit up with a radiant smile. "And I’m just as excited, dear Ava," she replied, her voice as sweet as honey.

Caught in a moment of awe, Anthony couldn't tear his gaze away from Florence. She seemed to embody everything her presence ignited a warmth in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time.

As Anthony continued to gaze at Florence, he couldn't help but be aware of the significant age difference between them. She was around Eloise's age, and he knew it would be deemed improper to entertain such thoughts about a young lady like her. Yet, his heart seemed determined, well the heart want what it wants.

"How are you, Ava?" Florence asked, her attention now fully focused on the little girl.

"I'm fantastic! Uncle Simon brought Miss Flower with him," Ava exclaimed, pointing towards Florence. The room burst into laughter at Ava's innocent mix-up of names.

Florence chuckled, her eyes meeting Anthony's. "Well, I'm honored to be in the presence of such esteemed company," she said, her words accompanied by a playful smile. Anthony's heart skipped a beat, and he felt his cheeks flush.

The shared glance did not go unnoticed by Lady Bridgerton, who exchanged knowing looks with her eldest son, Benedict, and Daphne. It seemed that Anthony's foolish heart was betraying him.

The Bridgerton family sat together in the elegant drawing room, their laughter and warmth filling the air. Anthony's mother, Violet, sat regally in her favorite armchair, overseeing the lively gathering.

Ava, perched on Benedict's lap, tugged at his sleeve, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Uncle Ben, do you think Miss Flower is an angel in disguise?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

Benedict chuckled, ruffling Ava's hair affectionately. “Well, little one, Miss Florence certainly has a grace and beauty that rivals the angels," he replied, casting a playful glance at Florence, who blushed at the compliment.

“But Ava, you're the one who sees angels, remember? Perhaps you can tell us if Miss Florence truly is one,”Anthony suggested, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned closer to his daughter.

Ava's face lit up, her imagination running wild. "Oh, yes, Dada! Miss Florence can be my angel friend, and we can have tea parties and read books in the clouds!" she exclaimed, earning delighted laughter from her siblings.

"Well, in that case, I hope you remember to save some tea and biscuits for your Uncle Simon. I wouldn't want to be left out of the heavenly tea party," Simon quipped.

"Simon,, I believe tea parties in the clouds require a certain level of etiquette. Can you manage that?" Florence asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Why, my dear sister I'll have you know that I can be the most refined cloud tea party guest you'll ever meet!" he proclaimed, causing Florence to burst into laughter.

Violet couldn't help but notice the transformation in her son, Anthony. The genuine smile that graced his face as he listened to Florence's laughter brought a sense of joy and nostalgia to her heart.

"Miss flower! Will you play with me and tell me more stories?" she asked, her voice filled with pure innocence.

“Of course, my dear Ava. I would love nothing more” she replied, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Soon the time for Simon and Florence's departure drew near, Ava's face crumpled with sadness.

She clung tightly to Florence's hand, her eyes welling up with tears. "But Miss Flower, you can't go yet! I don't want you to leave. Will you promise to come back soon?" she pleaded, her voice quivering with genuine distress.

“Oh, my sweet Ava, I promise you that I will see you soon” Florence's heart ached at Ava's visible sadness.

She knelt down and cupped the little girl's face in her hands, wiping away her tears with gentle affection.

she assured her, her voice filled with tenderness.

As Anthony held Ava in his arms, he spoke softly to his daughter, his voice filled with tenderness.

“Ava, my love, Miss Florence has other responsibilities to attend to. It would be impolite to keep her waiting. She will visit us again, I promise," he reassured her, soothing her with his comforting presence and gentle strokes on her hair.

Florence couldn't help but admire the beautiful bond between Anthony and Ava. It tugged at her heartstrings and stirred a mix of emotions within her.

She found herself yearning for a family of her own, with a loving husband and a precious child. She quickly scolded herself for entertaining such thoughts about a married man and redirected her attention to the present moment.

Ava's sniffling brought Florence back to reality, and she knelt down to her level, offering reassurance.

“Ava, my dear, I will come to see you once you have finished reading that book with Aunt Eloise." she promised, a warm smile gracing her lips.

"It was a pleasure to meet all of you," Florence addressed the Bridgerton siblings, her eyes filled with genuine appreciation.

The chorus of reciprocal sentiments filled the air, as each sibling expressed their gratitude for the encounter.

Turning to Lady Bridgerton, Florence extended her gratitude, a sincere smile gracing her features.

“Lady Bridgerton, your family is truly remarkable, and your granddaughter is a delight. Thank you for welcoming us into your home unexpectedly. It has been a joy to meet you all."

Violet Bridgerton beamed with affection, her eyes filled with adoration for her family. "My dear Florence, my granddaughter and I have taken a liking to you. Please continue to visit us. We would love to hear more from you and have the pleasure of your company," she warmly expressed, turning her gaze towards Anthony and Ava

Eloise, unable to contain her excitement, interjected, "Miss Florence, I can't wait to read this book! I will get back to you soon with my thoughts and opinions." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Florence couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's eagerness

"Eloise, I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the book. Let's drop the formalities and simply be Florence and Eloise," she suggested with a warm smile.

"Yes, just Florence and Eloise, like two kindred spirits” Eloise's face lit up with joy as she nodded eagerly. "We shall," Simon said, extending his arm for Florence to take

. With a graceful smile, Florence accepted his arm, her heart feeling a mixture of emotions. The time had come for them to bid their final goodbyes and return to their respective homes.

Florence, known for her directness, couldn't resist her curiosity as she broke the silence during their carriage ride back home.

"Simon, I must ask, how was the viscount during your time at Oxford?" she inquired, her eyes searching for any hint of the truth in his expression.

Anthony's mysterious aura had intrigued her, and she wanted to unravel the layers surrounding him.

"Like most men are during their college days," he replied evasively, not eager to delve into the past. He had reservations about where Florence's curiosity might lead.

"Ah, the epitome of enlightenment, I suppose," she quipped, a touch of amusement in her voice.

“But it's interesting to see you, someone usually guarded, open up so easily to him and especially to his daughter. It's not a side of you I'm accustomed to. Be cautious, Flo, this is unlike you," he warned, concern lacing his words.

“Ava is a little angel, and I don't wish to discuss this matter any further," Florence declared firmly, closing her eyes and leaning back, seeking solace in a momentary escape.

She had no desire to entertain Simon's doubts and observations, feeling weary from the day's events. "Wake me when we arrive," she added, giving him no room for further discussion, leaving Simon to sigh in contemplation.

"Dada, wouldn't it be jolly if Miss Flower came and lived with us?" little Ava asked her father, snuggled in bed as he finished reading her a bedtime story.

Anthony, lost in his thoughts, pondered the idea for a moment. "Well, my darling, I suppose it would be rather splendid," he replied, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Do you like Miss Flower as much as Auntie Eloise and I do?" Ava questioned innocently, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Anthony struggled to find the right words to express his feelings. "I... umm, she's a delightful lady," he responded, trying to choose his words carefully.

Ava's excitement grew as an idea popped into her head. With an animated expression, she suggested,

“Dada, why don't you invite Miss Flower to join us at Aubrey Hall next week for a jolly vacation? You're older, and if you charm her with your wisdom, perhaps she will consider the invitation."

Anthony couldn't help but smile at his daughter's ingenuity. "Did you just call me old?" he gasped dramatically, attempting to divert the topic, causing Ava to burst into giggles. "My dear baby thinks I'm an old man," he playfully teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Ava replied, giggling uncontrollably. Anthony seized the opportunity, asking mischievously, "Say that again, my dear."

He began tickling her, eliciting a symphony of laughter from Ava. Eventually, he stopped tickling her as she drifted off to sleep, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts about Miss Channingworth.

As he sat in the quiet room, a myriad of emotions swirled within him. The innocent admiration of his daughter, coupled with his own growing fascination, made him ponder the possibilities that lay ahead.

One fine morning, Simon ventured out for a hunting expedition, while Florence strolled through the park with her dog, relishing the radiant sunlight.

In the distance, she spotted a familiar sight—the unmistakable pigtails of a little girl. "Ava!" she called out, her voice carrying through the air.

Ava, sitting with her father in a picturesque garden set up for a picnic, turned around upon hearing the familiar voice. With hesitant steps, Ava approached Florence, who reassured her, "Don't worry, love, he won't cause any harm," as she observed the little girl's initial hesitation to pet the corgi.

"Hello," Ava greeted, gently caressing the dog with her small chubby hands. "Miss Flower, what is his name?" she inquired. "His name is William," Florence responded.

"William, you are such a good dog," Ava exclaimed, as the corgi nestled against her.

“Goodmorning Miss Channingworth, the weather is fine today” Anthony made his presence known, acknowledging Florence with a warm greeting.

She looked ethereal, like a divine being, donning a sage green pastel gown that complemented her caramel brown hair, adorned with a pretty head accessory.

"Indeed, Lord Bridgerton. I suppose you have a lovely picnic going on," she remarked. "Yes, Ava seems to adore the sunshine. And now she's taken a liking to your dog," Anthony replied, pointing out the little girl's fascination with the canine.

"I am pleased that William is receiving more affection," Florence smiled. Anthony gestured for her to take a seat, to which she gracefully complied.

“So, how long will you be in London ?" Anthony inquired, offering a succulent strawberry to her.

With a mischievous smile, Florence retorted, "Why, Lord Bridgerton, have I started to annoy you by crossing paths with you at every possible turn?"

Anthony stumbled over his words, flustered by her playful remark. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I was just curious," he stammered, watching her bite into the juicy fruit.

Suddenly, Anthony's mouth felt dry, and he loosened his tight collar slightly. "In fact, I am glad to have encountered you. It's a refreshing change from the insufferable people in the ton," Anthony confessed, his throat tightening.

"Well, perhaps after the upcoming season ends. It commences in two weeks," Florence revealed.

"Ah," Anthony responded, caught off guard. "Are you looking to marry?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Florence replied, "Not really. I plan to sit out this season since I delayed it by a year. I want to observe how things unfold before making any decisions. I am not particularly fond of marrying just for the sake of it. I seek someone who sees me for who I am and not merely as their wife. I know it may be too much to ask for, but..."

Before Florence could finish her sentence, Anthony interrupted her, his gaze locked deeply into her eyes. "Miss Channingworth, you deserve nothing less than what you desire," he declared passionately, stirring intense emotions within Florence.

The shared gaze between them spoke volumes, as their connection seemed to transcend the bounds of ordinary conversation.

"Dada, did you invite Miss Flower to join us at Aubrey Hall for a vacation?" Ava questioned her father, standing by William who wagged his tail contentedly.

“Oh, I forgot," Anthony admitted, realizing his oversight. "Dada, how could you?" Ava playfully scolded him, finding her place between her father and Florence. William conveniently positioned himself by Ava's side, adding to the picture of a complete and happy family.

Florence couldn't help but admire the domestic scene unfolding before her, cherishing this precious moment on a sunny morning.

"Miss Channingworth, I would like to extend an invitation for you to come and stay with us at our country home in Kent for a vacation," Anthony proposed, his words interrupting Florence's thoughts.

Florence was taken aback by the offer, unsure of what to say, and Anthony's intense gaze only intensified her nervousness.

Would it be awkward? Should she accept? "I insist, please," Anthony reiterated, noticing her hesitation.

Meeting Anthony's longing gaze, Florence finally found her voice, "Yes, I would love that. I'm sure Ava will be thrilled." Deep down, she knew the invitation meant more than just a vacation for Ava.

"For Ava," Anthony affirmed, a sense of relief washing over him at her acceptance. Florence met his gaze and echoed his words, "For Ava." Both of them understood that the invitation held a deeper meaning, extending far beyond a simple vacation.

Have you lost your mind?" Simon exclaimed when Florence mentioned that she would be leaving soon to join the Bridgertons in Kent.

His disbelief was evident in his voice as he tried to comprehend her decision.Florence sighed, understanding Simon's concern.

"I know it may seem sudden, but Viscount Bridgerton invited me to spend some time at Aubrey Hall with them," she explained, trying to rationalize her choice. "It's just a vacation, Simon, and Ava is looking forward to it."

Simon's brows furrowed as he looked at her intently. "But you barely know them, Florence. It's not like you to impulsively go off and spend time with strangers," he protested, his protective instincts kicking in.

Florence nodded, acknowledging his valid point but kept quiet Simon sighed, realizing that Florence had made up her mind. "Just promise me you'll be careful and keep me updated," he urged, his concern for her well-being overriding his initial shock.

"I promise, Simon," Florence reassured him, grateful for his concern. "I'll make sure to keep in touch. You know I won't do anything reckless."

Simon nodded, reluctantly accepting her decision. "Alright then, but remember, if anything feels off or uncomfortable, you can always leave. Your safety and happiness come first," he emphasized, wanting her to prioritize herself above all else.

As they bid each other farewell, Florence couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about her upcoming adventure with the Bridgertons.

—

To be continued…

#anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton siblings #queen charlotte #bridgerton series #eloise bridgerton #shondaland #lady danbury #violet bridgerton #Anthony bridgerton x oc #dad!anthony bridgerton

[couldntbedamned]

There's Only Butterflies (Take Me Away)

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader

Summary: It’s a pocket-dimension full of sunshine, with love that’s all theirs.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Obsession, Some Sexual-ish Content, Blatant disregard for responsibilities to multiple realities

The universe was created just for her.

That's not her being arrogant, that's just a fact.

They call it a pocket dimension.

She simply calls it home. Well, now she calls it home, at least. It’s taken her longer than they would have liked, but she’s mostly made her peace with it.

It’s lovely, she can't deny that.

Every store is perfectly to her taste; all clothing fits perfectly. Only the softest of luxury fabrics are allowed to touch her skin, and while she can wear whatever she wants, after a while it just becomes easier to dress in clothing they prefer. Flowing dresses, robes, and ballet flats that cushion her feet *just so* become her staples and in truth, she finds herself preferring it that way.

There is every food she loves available to her at any time with no sign at all of any of the foods she hates. In fact, food has never been so decadent, so filling, or satisfying. Even her paltry skills in the kitchen yield exquisite results come meal time.

One of them jokes that her cooking is better than eating a full set of infinity stones. 

(She’s fairly certain he isn’t joking.)

The people, if one could call the beings inhabiting her universe that, wisp around her. Interactions are pleasant and uplifting when they happen.  Then the beings fade away with distance like some kind of video game.

Night skies, when clear, showcase the purple violet twinkle of billions of stars along with beams of the double amethyst moons. Stormy nights have rolling ruby clouds and breathtaking orange lightning, thunder echoing vibrant green. The snow is perfect icy blue, dancing its way down from the heavens and piling at her booted feet.

She makes snowmen of each of them, delighted when they grumble about which one is best or would win in a battle. Their egos can be so fragile.

By day all beaches are white sanded with crashing cerulean waves graced with silver foam… waves that rise up and up before crashing into themselves and rushing up to meet the shore and run between her painted toes. At night the sand is obsidian against emerald oceans.

She builds countless sand castles of both white and black sand, each more elaborate than the last. Sometimes she lets them help, as a treat.

She never burns in the sun.

They ensure she burns in other ways.  The best ways.

She has magnificent gardens full of rare and exotic flowers from every universe they’ve inhabited. Some trees offer fruit - and yes, she’s Eve with the apple but it doesn’t matter because the knowledge they offer is worth more than any tale an old book could spin. The grass is always perfectly soft under bare feet, and varies between green and blue and nearly every color she’s ever imagined, depending on the garden’s mood. The shade is always just enough, and the giant toadstools can either be used as seats to rest upon or another source to withstand the sun.

There are only five kinds of butterflies in this universe, curiously. Morpho aega, Napocles jucunda, Morpho sulkowskyi, Callicore cynosura, and Morpho achilles violacrus. The metaphor is a bit on the nose, but she humors them.

She lives in a pretty little fairy tale-like cottage… from the outside. Inside, it’s everything from a metropolitan penthouse to an expansive country palace. Doors open to the beaches, the gardens, cities full of life that wisp around to and fro.

As a child she dreamed of the library from Beauty & the Beast with its spiraling cases and grand splendor. The library they’ve given her is beyond those wildest dreams. Perhaps one day she will venture beyond her favorites and maybe even read a few favorites of theirs. Belle only had the one beast. She has five.

Sometimes there are rooms with nothing but the plushest, comfiest chairs just waiting for her to curl up in with her favorite book or latest crochet project. Other times she has her own theaters showing her favorite movies and television shows as well as movies not yet released. She has more than one pool, though she’s never bothered to count them after stumbling upon the fifth one. At least two are outside, along with lounging chairs or floats.

She can sleep in a different bedroom every night if she so desires.

They’ll find her, wherever she chooses and the rough drag of either a goatee or sometimes blackened fingers against her bare neck or slick folds will inevitably rouse her from sleep.

She can go anywhere she wants in this universe that has been created for her.

Anywhere except away from them.

(After a few thousand loops, she’s stopped even trying.)

This universe was created just for her.

They were the ones who created it and locked her in.

She’s had to figure out what to call them, since they are all Stephen and completely different.

Stephen she knew first - the architect of victory over the Mad Titan though it took five years and an unbearable loss he carried with him, always.

Then there was Strange, who stumbled upon them after conquering (re: swallowing) a multi-dimensional-traveling demon. She feared for her Stephen, but somehow an accord was struck.

She’d lived with Stephen and Strange for a number of months, hidden away safely in the Sanctum, adored at every opportunity by a man who was learning to overcome his fears and a man who’d learned he had nothing left to fear.

There was her Defender, her Sol, another Stephen who had been thrown into their reality by accident and was both unable and wholly unwilling to leave when he saw her.

After that, it wasn’t long before the universe started glitching. 

Paradoxes upon impossibilities, ramblings by stolen lives about a sacred timeline, dreams where reality itself was shattering into trillions of billions of pieces.

A plan was made. What that plan was, she hadn’t known - they’d put her to sleep, unwilling to risk upsetting her. Or risk her leaving, she’d later realized.

She woke up - more than three years later - to find not only Stephen, Strange, and Defender, but two more. One she’d nicknamed Supreme, and the other, Sinister.

Of course, it’s never Defender, Supreme, and Sinister to their faces. They are Sol, Doc, and Vincent.

Five sorcerers supreme abandoned their realities for her, creating a new self-contained universe for her.

If that isn't love, then it's obsession at the very least and after a fashion, isn't that the same thing?

It's what she tells herself, at least.

#couldntbedamned fic #stephen strange x reader #strange supreme x reader #defender strange x reader #supreme strange x reader #sinister strange x reader

[minniethemoocherda]

Sins of the Past: Brown Eyes

Summery:  A collection of drabbles set in my modern au where the Bad Batch raise Omega after rescuing her from the abusive hands of their mother. In this chapter, Tech finds himself constantly running into the one and only Phee Genoa.

A/N:  I have fallen head over heels for Tech x Phee! Tech deserves some love! And Phee is so cool! I had to write a chapter about them! I hope this fluff makes up for all the previous load of angst as for once this chapter does not contain any warnings! I hope you enjoy! And Happy Bad Batch Finale Eve everyone! I can't believe the season is almost over already! Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck around with this fic since season 1! Or if you started reading in season 2! The amount of support I have gotten from this fic has been unbelievable so again thank you! Xxxxxxxx

Tech had always been good at spotting patterns. Whether that be in art or maths or people. And recently he had begun to notice a pattern emerging in regards to one person in particular.

It all started when he and his brothers were fixing up Cid's bar. Bolo and Ketch had gotten into an argument with another couple which ended up with the two of them getting thrown across the bar into the wall. Cid had brought them in to fix the old wooden panelling.

Whilst they worked, the bar was supposed to be closed. But that didn't stop a woman with dark skin, golden coiled hair and an upturned smile from walking in. Tech was about to inform her that they were currently closed, when Cid brushed him off, saying that the woman was an old friend of hers that had recently moved back into town. Her name was Phee.

Tech hadn't given their first interaction much thought. She had hung around the bar, chatting to his brothers whilst she caught up with Cid but besides calling him Brown Eyes, they didn't talk much.

The bad batch had made a habit of going to Cid's bar for dinner on Thursdays as it was one of its quieter days so Cid gave them a personal discount if they came. Not long after their first meeting, Tech noticed that Phee had also begun to make a habit of appearing on Thursday's, to hang around with Cid and enthral Omega with tales of her exploits as a treasure hunter. At first, Tech assumed that as a close associate of Cid, Phee was also taking advantage of a personal discount.

But then she started making an appearance at their jobs sites as well. Not seemingly on Cid's behalf, just to tell more of her tales whilst they worked. Tech didn't mind her presence as she never distracted him from his work and he had to admit that he did find her stories entertaining if outlandish. At the time his new hypothesis was that she was simply making up for lost time by catching up with Cid after being away for so long.

And then she showed up outside of Omega's school.

Tech was waiting to pick up his little sister when the familiar voice called out across the playground.

"Fancy seeing you here Brown Eyes!"

He turned around and as expected, leaning against the school fence stood Phee.

"Good afternoon. I'm here to pick up Omega. What are you doing here?" He asked, as she made her way over to him.

"Well I'm here for my niece." She replied, "Ain't that a coincidence huh?"

Tech was starting to put the pieces together that their continued meetings were probably more than a coincidence.

But before he could delve deeper into that thought, the school bell rang out across the playground, shortly followed by the hordes of children.

In the past months under their care, Tech had become quite adapt at picking out the blonde head of his younger sister out of a crowd. He soon spotted Omega running across the playground towards him along with a similarly aged girl with familiar coiled hair and dark brown skin who had to be Phee's niece.

The girl leapt into Phee's open arms. Tech was impressed by the treasure hunter's strength. He knew how deceptively heavy growing children could be.

After a spin, Phee settled them back onto the ground.

"Allow me to introduce Lyana!" She said with a dramatic bow. Lyana gave a welcome wave to Tech.

"A please to meet you." Tech said.

Phee, stroked her hand over the Lyana's head. Although her eyes were on Tech, she appeared to be subconsciously detangling some of the girl's curls. Lyana was smiling at her aunts antics like she was the greatest person in the universe.

Until this moment, Tech hadn't fully realised how good Phee was with children. He knew that she was an engaging storyteller with the exploits she would tell Omega about but he hadn't noticed until now all the extra exaggerations and efforts she would put in to make the child laugh. In fact Phee was very good at a lot of things. Tech had seen her off handily complete her brothers' maths without calculator a calculator as she wondered around their building sites. And she was still the only person who gave him a challenge when playing chess at Cid's bar.

And it wasn't until this moment that he found that the rings of gold in her hair, made her eyes shine like amber.

Tech took his glasses off, to ensure that it wasn't just reflections of the glass. But if anything, the lack of glass only made them shine brighter.

He was so distracted by them, that it took him a minute to tell that Phee had continued talking.

"Now we just need to find something to do to until your Daddy is done with his meeting." Phee was saying to Lyana.

"Maybe you could watch a movie?" Omega suggested. "Tech is taking me to the cinema to see the first Pirates of the Caribbean because they're re-releasing it for its tenth anniversary and I've never seen it!"

"Then you are in for a treat!" Phee exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm. "That's my favourite film of all time!"

"Perhaps you would like to join us?"

Tech wasn't aware he had spoken until he found all three sets of eyes turned to him.

Omega was giving him the same look that his brothers often did when they were around Phee that he hadn't quite deciphered the meaning behind yet. So he turned his focus back to Phee who's ever present smile had settled into something softer.

"Oh Brown Eyes, I was starting to think you'd never ask."

#the bad batch #tbb #tech #phee #phee genoa #tbb tech #omega #tbb omega #star wars #sins of the past #lyana #tbb lyana #lyana hazard #shep hazard #techphee #tech x phee #pheetech

[sorcharavenlock]

13. Tale as old as time...

After meeting with Kitty and Nea, Loki and I return home.

I look at him from underneath my eyelashes. I realise I'm starting to like him more and more...

"What is it?" Loki asks suspiciously as he notices me looking at him.

"Nothing," I say quickly. "I just really like the way you wear your hair."

Loki turns bright pink.

Did I make him blush again?

(bottom left shows he's chuffed about getting complimented, bottom right their relationship. it's now a tiny bit pink, romance might be in the air!)

I go to cook and one of my favourite songs comes on the radio. I can't help but dance along.

"What are you doing?" Loki asks, sounding amused.

I nearly jump out of my skin, I didn't notice him enter the kitchen! "I should put a bell on him," I think to myself.

"I didn't know you could dance," Loki smiles.

"I haven't danced in years," I answer honestly. "But I loved to when I was younger."

"I haven't danced in a long time either," Loki muses. "Come, dance with me!"

There isn't enough room in the kitchen so Loki drags me outside.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" Loki asks formally. I blush as he takes my hand. I know it takes a lot of energy for him to interact with the living. He must really miss dancing!

I can't help but notice the look in his eyes as he dances with me. Or maybe it's something else?

No that would be crazy, wouldn't it?

The moment the dance is finished, Loki lets go of me. He seems almost embarrassed!

"Well, that took a bit out of me! let us have our evening supper!" His eyes don't quite meet mine as he runs back into the house.

We have dinner together. Afterwards, I watch him sit and chat with Becca. it almost feels like he belongs with us.

I haven't felt this happy in a long time!

[isablooo]

I’ve been reading through Stoker’s working notes for Dracula for a project and I haven’t 100% finished yet (I’ve only gotten through his handwritten plot notes) but here are a few interesting things I’ve read so far:

- Dracula’s castle was originally in Styria rather than Transylvania, which makes me think Stoker was inspired by Carmilla.

-In Stoker’s original vampire rules, he states that “painters cannot paint him—their likenesses always like some one else” and that “could not photograph—come out like corpse or black”- rules which never show up in the book! He had considered adding a painter character called Francis Aytown so perhaps these rules would have been included through the Count’s interactions with this character???

-Mina and Lucy originally had an old schoolfellow called Kate Reed! I kind of wish she was still included because I would’ve loved for Mina and Lucy to have a girl squad. I’m tempted to do my own design for her (I’d probably make her a painter or photographer then??)

- Quincey was originally called BRUTUS M MARIX????

- Originally, Dr Seward was Lucy’s fiancé. Arthur was a much later addition to the novel.

-The train times in the novel are actually accurate- Stoker made extensive notes on train schedules which is so Mina Harker “train fiend” core of him.

-The original title for the novel was “The Un-dead”

-In the excised second chapter of the novel, Jonathan Harker encounters a female vampire in Munich called Countess Dolingen (who is suspiciously similar to Carmilla- she’s a Countess from Styria, whose body is interned in an abandoned village). He’s saved from her by a wolf who is presumably either Dracula or a wolf sent by Dracula to keep Jonathan safe (for now). The chapter was later published posthumously as a short story in 1914 under the title ‘Dracula’s Guest’ by Stoker’s widow, Florence Anne Lemon Balcombe (yes I’m including her full name because Lemon is such an adorable middle name). The story is actually great, I’d seriously recommend checking it out. Though, despite the notes making it clear the narrator is supposed to be Jonathan Harker, he feels like a different character.

-A few days after this event, Jonathan goes to see the Flying Dutchman at the opera ??? Idk Jonathan’s adventures in Munich could be a book unto themself lol

-Another excised event from Munich is Jonathan visiting the “Munich Dead House” and seeing a dead man whose face he later sees on the Count ??? In the facsimile I’m reading, Eighteen-Bisang and Miller explain this with an excerpt from The Atlantic Monthly from 1877: “There is a curious burial custom at Munich. The law requires that every man, woman, and child who dies within city limits shall lie in state for three days in the Leichenhaus (dead house) of the Gottesacker, the southern cemetery, outside the Sendling Gate. This is to prevent any chance of premature burial, an instance of which many years ago gave rise to the present provision.“ If a person had in fact been sent there who was still alive, there was a bell attached to a string they could pull.

-The three female vamps in Dracula’s castle were originally killed by being OBLITERATED BY LIGHTNING 

-The last chapter was potentially going to include a werewolf-  “a Tourist’s Tale—one killed by wolf (wehr?)”

Source: Bram Stoker’s Notes for Dracula: A Facsimile Edition, Annotated and Transcribed by Robert Eighteen-Bisang and Elizabeth Miller

#I typed this all up and then tumblr made the note disappear for some reason so I had to retype it oof #anyway I hope ppl find this as interesting as I did!! #dracula #dracula's guest #long post #text post

[lexxlouuu]

How you get the Girl

Chapter 7-Anti-Hero

Warnings: online bullying maybe?

This one is really all social media au.. but the next one will have more text and less social media promise 🧡

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

Earnhardt_Lily

Could not have had a better start to the season than a win. Even better when dad was there to cheer me on in person 🏎️🏎️ now time to watch the bestie go vroom vroom in St Pete

Liked by redbullracing, lucejohnson, dalejr and 3,000 others

User1: seeing Lily run to her dad immediately after her win had me bawling. Bet Dale is one proud dad right now 🥺

User2: let’s be honest Max probably just let her win 🙄

User3: seeing Lily on the podium to kick off the season…. I am here for it and can’t wait to see more 💙🏎️❤️

landonorris: congrats on the win, welcome to the grid officially 🏎️

User4: Lando’s comment are we seeing that 👀

redbullracing: what a way to start the season off with a podium ❤️💙

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)

redbullracing

A double podium 🏎️ best way to kick off the season.

Tagged maxverstappen1 and Earnhardt_Lily

Liked by 300,000

User1: the fact that they shared the picture of Lily and her dad on the main 🥺

User2: Dale Jr and Jos Verstappen interactions should be interesting this season 😅

User3: for real though Dale Jr is literally the opposite of Jos. Especially with how Lily was raised compared to Max… Yet both are already grabbing podiums first race of the season 🫣

User4: cannot wait for more double podiums this season

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Earnhardt_Lily

To whoever left a bag of daisies outside of my hotel room I adore them and you are so very sweet 😭😭 now off to the next one 🏎️

Liked by addie_stewart9, lucejohnson, and 2,500 others

addie_stewart95: daisies though 🧐 in a reusable bag they must really know you.

lucejohnson: a bag of your favorite flowers 🥺 after your first win in f1 😭

User1: aweee I want a bag of my favorite flowers

User2: who leaves flowers in a random bag 🙄

User3: @user2 someone who knows that Lily’s favorite flowers are daisies and is all about saving the environment and sustainability 🙄

User2: @user3 if she really cared about the environment she wouldn’t be racing 😒

User3: @user2 ummm Sebastian Vettel ring any bells

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Pierced through the heart, but never killed

#SoundCloud #Spotify #formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris #ln4 #f1 #lando norris x oc #f1 x oc #lando norris fanfic #f1xfemaledriver #f1 imagines #f1 fic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagines

[viilpstick]

BARBS I HAD A FUN IDEA,,,

Idk if u ever watched Once Upon a Time, I don't think u got the time people were watching it considering your age, (it's not old or anything but I think I was like still in middle school when I first saw it) but it's a show about fairy tale characters right

Ok so there's this couple, Rumpelstiltskin and Belle (Rumple represents the Beast in this series-- also I don't really like them that much but I'll just use them bc they gave me inspo) and there's a scene of one of their first early interactions. Belle is scared of Rumple bc he's known for being a monster but she's stuck with him, she goes to pour him tea but ends up letting the tea cup fall and the tea cup is now chipped, (yes it's a reference to the animation) she thinks Rumple will be mad and scream at her but he just looks at it and goes "well it's just a cup."; the chipped cup becomes like a token of their love and Rumple has it still.

LIKE WHAT IF-- What if during one of the engagement meetings of Isabelle and Leona, Isa is pouring tea for everyone to help her servants and to be nice, but when she goes to Leona she lets his tea cup fall-- he doesn't really care tho and drinks from said chipped cup and Isa thinks that was kinda nice of him--

Idk what the point of this was ANYWAY IT WAS JUST A CUTE LITTLE REFERENCE I THOUGHT I COULD MAKE WITH LEOBELLE-- like Leona teasing her for being clumsy but he finds it endearing😔😔

THIS IS SO CUTE😭😭😭😭

Leona has a soft spot for her (wont say outloud tho)

now about me not watching once upon a time, true, I didn’t, but is because I AM TOO LAZY TO WATCH ANY SERIES I can watch a five hours movie but I am always bored to watch series 🥲🥲 sometime i will tho

#⋆ ࣪ 𖥔 . leona kingsholar #⋆ ࣪ 𖥔 . isabelle #𐙚 moots 🤎 #inbox 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ✧ #🤎 ! mah

[itsnothappening]

thighs | jasonette

word count: +1.9k

summary: wasn't she supposed to feel something when her soulmate died?

a/n: not my best :(

@maribat-calendar-events

ao3 | wattpad | series masterlist | masterlist | prompts

Marinette was five years old when she first got her soulmate mark. It was a totally normal sentence and—at that time—perfectly understandable because, well, she was probably the clumsiest person in existence. 

Don't worry about it, were going to be her soulmate's first words to her. 

Her parents had laughed lightly when they saw it, and Marinette giggled along with them, never foreseeing that she would come to hate them in the future. 

Before, she used to show off her soulmate sentence, telling anyone and everyone who would listen. Marinette thought it was something to be proud of, something she should cherish and be happy for. But she was a poor naive little girl then, seeing the world only in the rose-coloured glasses her parents had brought her up in. As she grew older, Marinette began to despise them for it—maybe she wouldn't be as jaded as she was now if only her parents had raised her differently. 

The arrival of Hawkmoth and Lila Rossi completely shattered those glasses, especially when the universe seemed to let her down constantly. When she was in school, Lila was not content with blinding all of Marinette's friends with her flashy tales, nope, she wanted to destroy Marinette's home life too. 

Somehow, with her oh-so-mystical powers, Lila managed to convince Marinette's parents that their daughter was, in fact, a thief. That, unfortunately for Marinette's parents, was the end of the rope for their daughter. The day she turned eighteen, Marinette moved out of her childhood home, to an apartment she had saved for months. 

Soon after that, Marinette stopped believing in her soulmate. Maybe it was because the universe had screwed her over so many times that Marinette believed it to be impossible that she would ever get to meet her soulmate. Or, maybe it was because of the general air of discord around her; thanks Hawkmoth. But, at any rate, her soulmate mark began to fade. It happened throughout a few nights and by the time Marinette noticed—since she couldn't care less at the time—it was already gone. 

The words she had traced millions of times as a child just disappeared, and she didn't even notice. Wasn't she supposed to feel something when her soulmate died?

(Although she would never say it out loud, it was the first time Marinette cared to admit that maybe she cared about her soulmate. Just a little.)

Then the realization that her soulmate was gone set in, and Marinette had never felt so... alone. Sure, she still had the kwamis, but it wasn't the same. 

Eventually, Marinette decided to get over herself, because wasn't this the choice she made? 

She decided a fresh start was in order, considering the fact that she couldn't go anywhere in New York where she wasn't tainted with reminders of her former/dead soulmate. 

It probably wasn't the best decision, but Marinette packed up and found herself in Gotham, the city of crime. With her skills, it wasn't hard to find a job, and faster than she thought was possible, Marinette settled down. 

Today, she works as the Wayne family's personal designer, a job that paid very well and resulted in a lot of interaction with the family. 

Her experience in short: The Waynes were nothing like the media made them look. 

Being their designer meant Marinette had been a witness to all of their—admittedly stupid—escapades, and it made her wonder; just how did they manage to hide all this from the media?

Marinette huffed out an amused laugh as she remembered the time Tim thought it would be a good idea to drink nine cups of coffee in a row—it didn't end well, but from an outsider's point of view, it was hilarious. 

Pressing on the dainty bell at the Wayne Manor's massive—and dramatic—doorway, Marinette waited for their beloved butler to open the door. 

Marinette liked to think that she and Alfred were good friends, mainly due to their shared love of baking and—of course—their connection to the Wayne family. More often than not, the two of them could be found chuckling over their antics, with a Wayne sibling whining in the background. 

"Good morning Miss Marinette," Alfred opened the door wider, giving her space to enter. "I expect you are here for the measurements of the Wayne Gala?"

Marinette shot him a pearly smile as she stepped into the manor's foyer, already heading to the main room, where she generally took everyone's measurements. 

Giving him a nod, Marinette pushed open the door to the room, already prepared for the chaos inside. 

As it turns out, Bruce was running late, leaving all the other Wayne children completely out of control. 

When she entered the room, the first thing Marinette saw was Damian chasing Tim around with a particularly sharp knife, Dick yelling at them to stop and Cass just sitting there, an amused smile on her face. 

As soon as she saw Marinette though, her eyes lit up with enthusiasm, waving her over. 

Laughing, Marinette walked up to her and set her things on the plush—and very expensive—couch Cass was sitting on. 

"Well," Marinette said, surveying the chaotic and loud room, "Since the others are busy, shall I start with you?"

Cass gave her a grin of assent and pulled out Marinette's sketchbook, excited to see all of her dress ideas. 

Marinette had just finished introducing her first design when a searing pain made itself known on her back. 

Clenching her teeth in an effort to not scream, Marinette accidentally broke the pencil she was holding, the only giveaway that she was in pain. 

Immediately Cass was looking at her in worry, her eyes widening when she saw tears filling up Marinette's eyes and hurts escape her mouth. 

Standing up in alarm, Cass dropped all of the materials in her lap—creating a loud ruckus—and rushed to her friend, rubbing her back in a silent motion of asking her how she could help. 

A choked gasp escaped Marinette's throat as Cass' hand rubbed her back—rubbing the place her soulmate mark used to be, and effectively causing the pain to be worse. 

It didn't take a genius to figure out where the sudden pain was coming from, and with effort, Marinette managed to whisper out, "Soulmate mark."

And then she passed out. 

When she woke up a few hours later, Marinette woke up to the concerned whispers and questions of the Waynes, each of them looking at her with a healthy amount of worry in their eyes. 

It took Marinette a few minutes to remember what had transpired, but once she did, her eyes widened to the point where they were almost bugging out of her head. 

"Can someone—" she whispered, "Can someone check my soulmate mark?"

Cass volunteered to do so, kicking everyone out of the slightly out-of-the-ordinary room. Peeling off Marinette's fashionable blouse, Cass read out the newly inscribed words on Marinette's back. 

My thighs are going to melt if you keep me like this for any longer. 

Miles away, Jason Todd awoke for the first time after months, a new sentence engraved on the small of his back. 

Well then stop moving and let me do my job.

#jasonette #jasonette july 2022 #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #cassandra cain #damian wayne #lila salt #mild #angst

[frogsandfries]

Who knows how long Beast has been frozen in time, simultaneously forever a child naïve to the ways of a world he's never interacted with, as much as he has been looked to by the servants caught up in this mess to be the leader he was bred to be. Of course, with time continuing to pass beyond the cursed walls, stories have been spread to keep people away from this particular castle.

The little boy reaches out a hand to touch an ethereally beautiful rose that floats in the center of the garden where the fountain usually is. His hand bumps into a sharp thorn in the stem. In the dream, he doesn't feel the pain, but he feels the drop of blood splash upon the grass. Suddenly, the garden is filled with haunting, cruel laughter of many inhuman voices. They've tricked him, and now he'll be a beast so hideous as to be unlovable by any, the ultimate curse. His father's blood line will have no choice but to perish and the kingdom will belong to the fae once again, as it should.

Beast jars awake in the library, the book falling from his enormous chest to the floor. Why does he dream about that........ day, that horrible, stupid, childish accident all the time. It's done and there's nothing he can do except languish, frozen in time, trapped within the walls of the castle, unable to leave. What a cruel curse to burden a little boy with.

Of course, he has no way of knowing what legends and lore his story has evolved into, stories of a heart-consuming monster who tricks women, stories of someone whose foul and wicked soul has been made his exterior, someone who could never love and would never deserve to be loved. It's better that he doesn't know; the stories told when fires have burned low and children have gone to sleep would only hurt the sweet, naïve Beast.

Stories Belle had never heard before ambling into this little village in an isolated valley where she hopes her step-mother, and step- and half-sisters will never hear of her.

Belle wakes from what fitful little sleep she was barely able to get through nightmares of the gnarled, grizzled old drunk her step-mother tried to sell her to.

She rises quietly in the faint light of the approaching dawn. Her step-mother, step- and half-sisters sleep inside the house proper, on the far side of the house from Belle. Barefoot, Belle tiptoes out of the makeshift barely-a-room. She collects several bags from around the property, loads the farm horse, and quietly leads him off, away from the sun as the mist is being burned away by the sun.

A good distance away from the house, she rearranges the bags, mounts the horse and they set off at a better pace. Belle's mind rushes. Why haven't they come after her yet, what will they do when they catch her, where is she going to go, what are they going to do when they realize everything she took, what was she thinking?

Isolated in his cursed castle, Beast has no idea his life is about to finally gain momentum. This Belle is just as stunningly brilliant as the Belle in the original writing of the tale, as well as beautiful, but being so intelligent was no blessing for a girl who grew up socially isolated, neglected and verbally marred for more of her childhood than she hadn't.

Of course no one knows the truth of why he was cursed: The Beast was not transfigured to match his ugly interior, as rumor evolved into lore. He was merely a boy, caught in the crossfire of a battle between his father and the powerful fae his father had insulted, cursed to wear the appearance of a beast until he could find someone who could confess their love for him. After all, what is love that you can't verbalize.

A seemingly kind fae creature, feeling sad for the prince who would live his short life as a beast too hideous for any mortal woman to love, gave the boy what she thought was a gift, the chance to live, frozen and concealed in time. She comes to see him periodically, giving him new magical gifts--a magic mirror, a magic pantry, a magic book. Sometimes the fae is like a friend, sometimes like a mother--and lately, sometimes she's more familiar with the fallen prince. Idk maybe I throw that out.

Even though Belle's stomach is somehow more empty than her purse, she resolves to locate this castle--after all, the tales must have a granule of truth to them in there somewhere, and there doesn't appear to have been any nobles looking after this area for a long time. They must have lived somewhere. What's the worst that could happen? Her heart torn out and eaten by a monster? She might die of starvation or freeze to death in the rapidly approaching winter anyway, and then her heart would go to waste, scavenged by wolves or ravens. Belle had always fantasized about her prince charming whisking her off to a kingdom far, far away, where she could wear a new dress made of gems every day, if she wanted to. Even long-crumbling ruins of a castle are still a castle, right? Even if there isn't even a speck of gold dust remaining? It would be more shelter against the cold than the frigid pews of the church in the village.

#I'll keep working on this #let me know what you think #beauty and the beast #la belle et la bête #story #fractured fairytales

[ariel-seagull-wings]

TOP 10 LIVE-ACTION FAIRY TALE MOVIES

@princesssarisa @faintingheroine @the-blue-fairie @amalthea9 @angelixgutz @sabugabr @superkingofpriderock @chansondefortunio @notyouraveragejulie @giuliettaluce @solevenus

Note: this is just a list of personal favourite live-action fairy tale movies, not a list of "what are the objective best fairy tale movies".

To make the list slightly organized and consistent, i setted up some basic rules:

1° They must have been theatrically released. Direct- to-Video or Made-for-TV releases, like the Hallmark Hall of Fame series, the Muppets Fairy Tale TV specials or Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella, will not be counted here.

2° They must be adaptations of pre existing fairy tales, be they directly collected from oral tradition like the Brothers Grimm tales, or literary tales slightly inspired by elements of oral tradition, like the works of Andersen. Movie script original stories like Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal or adaptations of fantasy novels like Alice in Wonderland, Wizard of Oz, Peter Pan and Pinocchio will not be on the list.

Now that the rules are set, let's go onto the countdown.

10° Snow White and The Three Stooges (1961)

Got the tenth place on this list because of how much i love the found family dinamic developed between Snow White, the Prince and the Three Stooges (who got the role of the Seven Dwarfs)

09° Jak se budi princezny (1977)

Princess Ruzhenka is a very outspoken and charismatic encarnation of the princess Sleeping Beauty, and because of that her and the movie she stars in has winned my hearth.

08° The Glass Slipper (1955)

This is one of the early cinematic adaptations of the Cinderella tale that experimented with turning the supernatural elements more subtle, exploring a more grounded love story between the heroine and the Prince, wich would be a very influential aproach over later adaptations. The highlight are the performances of Leslie Caron as the strong tempered but vulnerable Ella and Estelle Winwood as the unconventionally wise Mrs. Toquet.

07° La Belle et la Bete (1946)

Probably the most historically influential fairy tale movie of all time, in his masterpiece Jean Cocteau tooked what was considered a simple morality tale about a woman preparing to marriage, and turned it into a study about the minds of two complex characters in search of deep connection and their place in the world

06° Three Wishes for Cinderella (1973)

The late Libuse Safrankova brought with her performance one of the most funny, adventurous energetic and sassy encarnations of Cinderella. This is her movie, where she gets to be a scrappy maid, a confident warrior, and am elegant damsel, all at once, and i forever will be glad of finding her.

05° The Scarlet Flower (1977)

This live action film adaptation of Sergey Aksakov's take on the 'Beast and Beauty' type of story is very unique in its exploration of the russian countryside and its folklore, the plant inspired design of the Beast, and in its slow paced storytelling that invests more in the characters facial expressions and body language than in dialogue, all factors that have captivated me.

04° Zolushka (1947)

My number one favorite Cinderella live action movie. When i watch this movie and see the costume and set designs, the theatrical acting styles, the coloring work, the music, the small nods to other Perrault tales, i feel transported to my childhood, touched by how those artists joined together to bring one of my favourite storybooks to life with all emotional sincerity and no hint of irony.

03° Panna a Netvor (1978)

While Jean Cocteau set the stage for using the 'Beast and Beauty' type of tale as the basis for a cinematic psychological character study, 1978's Panna a Netvor went even deeper with the idea, choosing not to use any villain or external antagonistic force and instead completely centering the heroine and the Beast's characters as they interact in the closed space of the old castle and talk about the fears they have of their own feelings. Both get equally developed in this beautifull coming of age gothic fairy tale.

02° Donkeyskin (1970)

A loving homage to the storytelling legacy of both Charles Perrault and Jean Cocteau, this movie is the combination of a Medieval Book of Hours with the 1970s Psychodelia, wich when mixed resulted in something uniquely beautifull and colorfull.

01° The Company of Wolves (1984)

Based on Little Red Riding Hood, wich is my favorite fairy tale, i love the fact that this movie explores the fairy story at its root: the people, most of wich were working class women, who reunited their loved ones to tell them a story they learned in their dreams, and from those stories people would take different lessons about topics such as nature, spirituality, love, family, sexuality, life. Following Rosaleen's dream, where she and her Grandmother shares tales about humans turned wolves, we are invited to reflect about the roles of man and women in society and their arbitrareness, and how those roles can be subverted once we take consciousness that we all share a dark, wolf like side. All this, and more, are what makes The Company of Wolves my number favorite live action fairy-tale film adaptation.

Honorable Mentions:

Beauty and the Beast (1960)

This movie presented an interesting combination of fairy tale romance with political drama in an italian renaissance setting and a Beast who would turn human during day light, all very creative ideas that deserve to be complemented.

The Slipper and The Rose (1976)

This adaptation of the tale of Cinderella has great performances, beautifull costumes and magnificent songs by the Sherman Brothers. It was just that The Glass Slipper, wich shares the same 18th Century Setting, has personally touched me more.

#tumblr mutuals #fairy tales #fantasy #classic cinema #cult cinema

[wily-one24]

"Love Is" set to Alannah Myles, a bunch of movie clips that depict different versions of love. And apparently, when I made this ages ago, I was focused on one movie in particular that would surprise most in a video about love, but whatever. I watched it now and was kinda enchanted.

"Eat It" - Weird Al Yankovic. A bunch of Veronica Mars characters eating and interacting with food. Anyone who was ever on screen in the first two seasons is fair game in this vid. Also, this is the vid that Rob Thomas loved and showed the VM cast members.

"Hotel California", set to the Eagles. First two and a half seasons of Veronica Mars. Welcome to the Hotel California, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

"Tale As Old As Time", set to the Australian Cast of the Broadway Musical Beauty and the Beast. Featuring Veronica Mars as Belle, Logan Echolls as the Beast, Duncan Kane as Gaston, Keith as Belle's Father, and many, many more!

"Immune" - Firefly, set to Del Amitri's "Immune to the Whole Affair". I do love me some Jayne/Kaylee.

"The Girl of my Dreams (Is Giving Me Nightmares" - set to Machine Gun Fellatio, Jayne/River. And while I was never a Jayne and River fan, this was a friend request and turned out to be one of my most popular vids. So... idek.

"Fine Bunch of Reubens" - Multi-song, character retrospective that has a song describing each of the eleven characters we know and love from Firely (that's right, I said ELEVEN, and I meant it). This is a long one, but I adore it so. And I still stand by my song choice for each character.

"Disarm" - set to the Smashing Pumpkins, Sam and Jack. Yep, a Skewed Believer from way back (and if you know what I'm talking about, pull up a fandom chair in the Fandom Old Folks' home and we can reminisce). This is my first video ever.

"Try Not to Remember" - set to Sheryl Crow, a Dollhouse general vid. As Echo/Caroline becomes aware. S1.

"Touched" - set to VAST. Simon and River. I... can't believe I almost forget this one.

Other vids that didn't make the poll, but are still there and I adore them:

The VM trilogy, Logan/Veronica/Duncan. Each character has their own video to explore the dynamic beween the three. Logan "She Says", Veronica "You Oughtta Know" and Duncan "White Wedding".

VM "Cry". If you think the men of VM cry a lot, you'd be right. (humour).

VM"Pretty When You Cry", Veronica Mars Vs Villians.

VM "Stupid Girl", Lilly Kane video.

VM "Tell On You (Letter to My Rapist)", a Veronica Mars "A Trip to the Dentist" video.

VM "Tramp", The men of VM are tramps, enough said (humour).

Firefly: "Gimme a Break", Mal Reynolds Vs all the people that shit him to tears.

Firefly: Kaylee. A Kaylee Frye vid set to "Can't Keep A Good Girl Down".

Glee: "Yo Mamma", Puck likes to fuck Moms. It's canon.

Heroes: "Vindicated", a Nikki video.

Once Upon a Time: "Bleeding Out", Swan Queen.

Once Upon a Time: "Temptation Waits", Emma and Jefferson.

BtVS: "Big Shot" , a Warren video.

BtVS: "Hero", an Andrew Video.

BtVS: "Pretty Fly for a White Guy", a Jonathon video.

BtVS: "Under Your Spell", a Tara video.

All BtVS videos were made for a Buffy con and shown at the con. Which is why they were these specific characters.

#jacqui used to vid once #which video do you want? #choose for me? #tell your friends