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drchucktingle · 4 months

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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

youtube

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

#love is real #chuck tingle #tingleverse #texas library association #actually autistic #lgtbqia #Youtube

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holybibly · 3 months

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Pretty Flushed | MATZ x Reader | Part I

Genre: smut, hybrids!Au

Word Count: 10.6k

Summary: Debts must always be repaid, even if they are not your own, and you will learn this cruel lesson from your own bitter sweet experience.

Or where innocent bunnies are the most delicious dessert for the big bad wolf

Part II

WARNING: Unprotected sex, Mommy/Alpha! Seonghwa, Daddy/Alpha! Hongjoong, Omega/Bunny! Reader, оral knotting, stomach bulge, vaginal knotting, breeding, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @jeolmeunday @meowmeeps @wayzatiny @stolasisyourparent @iweirdthingsblog @staytinyville @yoonivjpg @spooo00oky @kibs-and-bits @yunnieo @avantalem @dreamingofyeo @uuviey @mxnsxngie @bahngchatsfx @yeosang-dot-mp3 @zzz-zzs @yeos-bunny @seonghwasstar @fvlvy @bunnyluvr25 @watermelon2319 @weedforthoughtz @teez-the-time @bakarilennox @atinyreads @bluesungshine @kihyuns-military-wife @seventhcallisto @maximofftrash @0325tiny @edusweah @haven-cove @nhari @sanhwalvr @hecateslittlewitchling @icecold2baby @readerofallthingss @appleschre @wannabebarbiesworld @kpopmonstur @ohflorah @yoongiigolden @unxverxse @kuromiiy @cherryynoir @mitchikeli @atinism @minaizum1 @st4rhwa @kayleigh-28 @onedumbho3 @imthetempter @soobiverse

A/N: I hadn't planned to split this into two parts, but I'm not good at writing anything under 25k, so Part 1 is here today.This universe will evolve, and there are a few more works to come. I'm kind of obsessed with them. Sorry, but I'm on my knees in front of men in furs, and I'm not ashamed of it at all. I hope you all look forward to Part 2 as much as I did.

All comments and reblogs are very much appreciated and are a great motivation for me. Feel free to ask me anything; questions and private messages are open.

The whole tag list will also be relevant for the second part. I may add 10-15 more people to the second part tag, so if you want to be tagged, please leave a comment under this post.

divider by @cafekitsune

Have fun, bunnies; the heat is on.

Ever since you were born, your mother has always said to you, "Good bunnies should be submissive and grateful; they shouldn't cause any problems," and you have always followed her words with an exceptional level of obedience.

Responsive, soft, and gentle, you were the perfect embodiment of all the best qualities of your breed. You were the best bunny in the litter, something you were undoubtedly proud of and always justified with your perfect behaviour.

You were so tender, affectionate, and charming—the absolute image of a good girl. Always helpful, understanding, and ready to help in any situation. Despite the mocking nickname "Goody Two Shoes" given to you by the other bunnies on the farm, you were happy to be who you were.

"Good bunnies are obedient bunnies" was the simple truth of your entire life.

You bowed your head and bared your neck in respect, went to church on Sundays, helped breastfeed the younger bunnies in the nursery, studied hard, and, of course, had a clean and pure reputation.

It's not that you didn't have a clue what sex was. You'd gotten your fair share of heats, but unfortunately, you were too shy and indecisive to get laid with someone. You spent all of your heats in the company of a cute little glass dildo and a silver plug that was adorned with a shiny pink stone.

The obscene thoughts and pornographic images that filled your mind at the time always made you feel extremely ashamed. But what could you do when you were literally born to be a beautiful sex toy? It was a rather humiliating fact for your species, but all rabbits were something of a slut for a big fat cock. Their primitive reproductive instincts were stronger than any sense of decency they had.

From your point of view, this was the one and only blemish on your otherwise "saintly" image. A black mark on your spotless reputation. Your small guilty pleasure.

In everything else, you followed strict rules and remained a naive, obedient girl.

At the moment, the situation in which you found yourself was a traumatic one for your fragile, isolated mind, to say the least. On top of that, your heat was coming on relentlessly, and the growing excitement tingling beneath the surface of your skin was making it a hundred times worse. All the more so when it was being fuelled by the heavy, seductive pheromones emanating from the man sitting in front of you.

In all the time you'd been in this room, you hadn't even dared to look at him.

Torn between the deep-seated prey instinct that urges you to run and hide and the forbidden dark desire to submit to the dominant species, your mind goes haywire, causing almost physical pain.

It was a choice between fuck and death, and you were stuck in the middle. If you dared to turn your back on him, he wouldn't hesitate to rip your throat out with his teeth or rape you right there on the fluffy carpet, rough and animalistic.

In spite of the very real danger, the nymphomaniac half of your brain was happily imagining how nice it would be to feel the soft pile of the carpet against your skin as you were put on all fours and fucked senseless.

Embarrassing as it was to admit, bunnies weren't the smartest of creatures, more concerned with mating and satisfying an insatiable sex drive than anything else. Sometimes they lacked intelligence and common sense in situations where it was needed, and this was one of those times. So it was not surprising that you thought more about the carpet under your feet and the cock between your legs than the real and obvious threat to your fragile life.

All air and glass, too brittle and soft for this world; you were easily broken.

"Haven't they taught you any manners, pretty thing? Stop staring at the floor. I'll never believe he's more attractive than me, so lift your head up, bunny, and let me have a good look at your sweet face." The voice was deep and rich, with a kind of chocolate smoothness that glided over your skin like a forbidden caress.

The sensation was so clear and vivid that a pleasant warmth spread over your entire body with a gentle blush, and a tingling sensation began to tingle palpably in your lower abdomen.

You almost start to whimper in response, but you manage to suppress the humiliating sound deep in your throat and bite the inside of your cheek in pain.

His presence is so strong and commanding, so suffocating, that it feels like the whole world has frozen at his feet. The sensation burns you to the bone, and a primal, little-used instinct signals the impending danger, sending an icy shiver down the length of your spine.

The bunny's submissive nature can't help but react to such blatant dominance, and your body responds by sending out signals of submission, causing you to tilt your head slightly to the side to show him your gently exposed neck.

Your long ears flutter weakly at the sound of a velvety purr escaping the man's lips, and you let the muscles that are taut as silk ribbons relax a little, knowing he's accepted your gesture of submission.

"A good bunny is an obedient bunny," so as soon as the dynamic between you is cleared, you immediately follow the command he gave you earlier.

"I... I don't... Excuse me, sir." You stammer as you awkwardly try to formulate the right words and finally raise your head to look at the gorgeous man in front of you with the glassy stare of big, wide, open eyes.

"There you are, my cuddly little bunny. Such good manners, my pet. I wonder if you are always such a docile sugar thing, obediently following all instructions." He chuckles slightly, the mockery of it clearly audible in the soft sound. "Do you like what you see?" As if inviting a kiss, the tip of his pointed tongue flicks sensually across his voluptuous, plump lips. There is a flash of something in his seductive, languid gaze. A sense of knowledge. Feeling of power. Every move and every word were deliberate.

This was the beginning of the game between predator and prey. He seduced her only to tear her to pieces once she was in his clawed hands.

No one asked questions on your farm; you were always told what to do and how to answer. So his question, to put it mildly, has you confused, and you don't know what to say to him, or rather, what answer he expects from you.

The man before you is magnificent. The majestic face is like that of a fierce beast of prey and an angel of death rolled into one. Warmth surged to your face at the mere sight of him and sank to the depths of your soul in the same moment. What could you say? Are you the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? Even that wouldn't have been enough.

A pair of pointed ears could be seen between silky black curls that twitched with interest at every sound. Silver fur that felt so soft to the touch. Not as soft as your own, perhaps, but that did not diminish the desire to be touched in any way. The same silver shimmered in the lazy movements of his thick tail.

He was half-reclining in a large leather chair, as if he were sitting on a royal throne. His long legs were spread wide and covered in a pair of designer jeans that drew attention to his crotch. The outline of a large, thick cock was clearly visible through the fabric.

At the mere sight of him, lust spills deep into your loins. The sweet voice of approaching heat sings happily in your head, "The perfect mate, just what you need. He'll destroy you, satiate you, and tie you up with his big fat knot." These thoughts were so sickening, but that's what you get for being a bunny.

You had to shake them off. Good girls don't think about dicks. Especially when their lives are literally on the brink of death.

Tattoo lines ran down the length of his slender neck. There was a small scar where the mating bite had taken place. His skin was uneven and swollen in places. It was as if teeth had sunk into him several times in a row, overlapping the bites.

But there was one detail in the whole of his stunning appearance that made your eyes widen in fear, and the space between his thighs filled with the liquid honey of desire.

Wool in all shades of brown and sand, harmoniously woven into a massive, voluminous fur coat. It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was, and your pheromone-fogged brain would only belatedly realise that you were in serious trouble. There was only one species that could afford to wear fur in such a provocative and shameless manner.

A wolf. And an Alpha at that.

The ultimate predator. He was cunning, stealthy, and tantalising when he wanted to be.

The moment of realisation hits you like a lightning bolt. A nervous shiver runs down your spine, and your hands start to shake as you crumple up the hem of your white skirt. You look a little ridiculous in your pretty white outfit—all frills and lace. It was your idea of a sweet outfit. But it looks naively childish, almost silly, compared to the Alpha's luxurious furs and designer clothes.

He's clearly amused by your nervousness. The corners of his luscious, perfectly sculpted lips curve into a mocking, devilish smile. The sharp tips of his fangs are revealed, and your pulse races.

You've heard many stories from other bunnies about how tempting predators can be to natural prey like you, like moths seduced by flames and such. But how could you, such a gentle and sweet girl, be attracted to this alpha standing before you?

The way you squeezed your thighs together clearly showed how excited you were. The Alpha sniffs at this and then laughs deeply and darkly.

"Ah, you obviously like what you see, don't you, little slut? It turns out the rumours were true; all bunnies are such whores for dick. I was under the impression that we had an innocent creature on our hands here. Mmm, that's a shame, sweetheart."

You open your mouth to object, but all you hear is a soft whimper that makes him laugh even harder. The sound practically vibrates against your heated skin, a deep shade of burgundy spilling over your chubby cheeks in a humiliating blush.

And yet, you're a very stupid bunny.

"I want to see more of that slutty nature, but we'll get back to that later, sweetheart. Now tell me, do you know what you're doing here, Fluffy?" You squirm under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes are dark and so predatory. There's a hunger in them that's hard to hide, and it makes your heart beat so fast that you can feel every beat in your ribs, and your legs start to tremble harder than ever, but underneath all that fear, there's something else.

The tugging feeling of arousal in your lower abdomen grows stronger by the second, drops of viscous mucus moisten the silky folds of your pussy, and your panties suddenly become very uncomfortable, clinging uncomfortably to your crotch.

A new wave of sweet, tempting pheromones fills the room, smothering you with delicious sweetness, responding to your actions. Your head begins to spin, a numb sensation of excitement crawling out from under your skin and spreading throughout your body until it spills over your chubby cheeks in a bright red blush.

It was too twisted for your fragile mind, and you were furious at the terror and bliss hidden beneath it, but the attraction was too strong to deny. But for silly, sweet bunnies, it was the world's biggest mistake to feel and react like that. You're supposed to be this calm and brave bunny, not trembling with lust under that hypnotic black gaze. And you certainly shouldn't have found this wolf to be so attractive and so sexy.

But some part of you had already surrendered to him before you were even aware of it, and your body seemed to be unable to overcome the perverse attraction you were feeling.

You tried to convince yourself that it was all about the deep-seated instinct to procreate—the very natural rabbit instinct and the impending heat—but that would be self-destructive.

Good girls always end up with the big bad guy's dick in their mouth. And that wolf was big and mean. The fear of his sharp teeth sinking into your neck practically melted away at the thought of him tying you in a knot and fuck you so good you'd forget your name.

"Я... I don't know, sir. I'm a good bunny. I'm very obedient. Please believe me..." Your mind is a mess; you can't form coherent thoughts, and you speak in scrappy phrases that make no sense.

Your eyes start to water, and a lump forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. It's like a sudden temper hysteria, as if all of your senses have been rebooted at once and you can't make up your mind how to react at the moment. Something inside of you snap, like a self-defence mechanism that has just been activated, and crystal tears will begin to flow down your face.

Here you are, a cute little bunny in a wolf's lair, left to be eaten by a big, bad wolf.

You finally realise that all this is happening in a wolf's den, where you are completely helpless and vulnerable to the danger represented by the handsome man sitting in front of you. The most important thing is that you have absolutely no idea why you have been brought here. The head of your farm has asked you to ride with him, and of course you have obediently agreed; you would never dare to refuse; it would be so disrespectful and rude, as your mother has always told you....

Oh my God, Mum! Did she know where you were? She must be worried. Isn't she?

Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear is coursing through your veins, and hot tears are stinging your eyes. Your left heel hits the ground a few times in a convulsive manner. The panicked sound is drowned out by the softness of the carpet—the same carpet that pleased you just a few minutes ago.

The wolf's eyes grew hungrier, lust blazing in them like a golden flame, and he licked his lips sensuously. The moan he lets out is nothing less than pure porn, and you shudder. Whether it's from sheer terror or from excitement, you can't tell.

His long tongue traced the outline of his full lips once more, and you understood the meaning of what he was doing.

He's tasting your fear. Oh, fuck.

It was no secret that all wolves were a little sexually perverted; they always found the display of primal fear extremely arousing and had a tendency towards dacryphilia.

One day, one of the bunny girls from your farm spent her mating season with one of the wolves from a neighbouring clan. She came back looking as if she'd been abused for years—bites, wounds, bruises, and hickeys—but her blissful sighs and her belly, swollen from all the sperm she'd received, said she had no regrets about choosing a mate.

For a bunny like you, sex with a wolf was like flirting with death. He'd tear you to pieces, and you'd be grateful. If you survived, of course.

Yet there was something deeply erotic about being at the mercy of this ferocious, godlike creature; helpless and defenceless against his cruel touch, his fierce stare, and his razor-sharp fangs.

You're almost feverish. Your cheeks are beginning to burn from the shameful excitement building up between your legs, your lower lip is quivering with barely suppressed sobs, and your palms are sweating from the hot, lingering, perverse sense of temptation that is bubbling under your skin like scalding water. It's so deadly and dangerous that it's almost blissfully pleasurable.

Cotton tail twitches nervously, and your long ears flatten against your head, the whole body trying to curl up into a ball in the hope of escaping that greedy gaze.

In the wolf's eyes, you become even more appetising—such a sweet little thing for his taste. He smiles sweetly at you—as sweet as a wolf's smile can be. This sudden change in his demeanour makes you swallow noisily the viscous saliva that has gathered in your mouth. The smile on those beautiful lips is so much softer, gentler, and almost motherly, and your body unconsciously relaxes, fooled by the feigned kindness.

Stupid, stupid bunny.

"Didn't they tell you, my sweet little bunny?" His voice is a wicked, velvety purr. Your fluffy cotton tail twitches nervously, as if warning you of impending danger, and you squeak weakly. "You're completely empty-headed, sweetheart."

Almost lazily, Alpha brings the glass of amber-coloured whisky to his lips and takes a small sip from it. His tongue is slowly rolling the liquid in his mouth; it is poking at his cheek in a vulgar way that is too obvious to be an accident. It's a deliberate move. The glass is set on the table with a soft clink, the echo of which is matched by your heel hitting the floor.

When he speaks again, his lips are wet, glistening with drops of alcohol, and you realise with a sense of humiliation that your silk panties are getting much wetter.

"My name is Seonghwa and I am the Alpha Leader of this house. Your farm owes me a debt of gratitude, my little one. I've been patient enough to wait for a while, but you bunnies are such damned greedy things, always wanting to take and expecting to get away with it just because of your pretty face. But you don't. It's time to pay your bills, and you're my sweet girl; you're going to pay me back everything your farm owes me. That's what you're here for." Seonghwa tilted his head sideways, almost childishly, and added mockingly. "Do you understand me, pretty thing, or do I have to repeat it to you again so that your tiny brain can understand it?"

He is blatantly humiliating you and openly mocking, knowing full well that rabbits are a little on the small side mentally and sometimes have a hard time taking in information correctly at first go.

You let out a half-whine, half-squeal, and shake your head negatively. Your fluffy blonde curls fall over your flushed face and stick uncomfortably to the thick candy-pink gloss on your lips. Right now, you look absolutely nothing like the well-behaved bunny you are.

"That… that's not true… Please don't do this to me, my farm; we are very good bunnies. Seong…sir, I am a good girl, the best bunny in the litter, and I have never taken anything from anyone." You respond with a soft whimper that turns into a loud sob.

You're a pretty pathetic sight to behold, but that only seems to turn him all the more.

Seonghwa places a dainty palm on the inside of his thigh, too high for propriety, and you shiver at the sound of his dark laughter. This action is a subtle, almost primitive, act of dominance. It is designed to draw attention to his large, hard cock hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. His knot must be huge.

Your mouth fills with saliva at the thought and you swallow loudly, fluffy tail quivering and flicking slightly in response to his behaviour. Thoughts of what it would be like to be tied up by an alpha, for once in your life, make your breath catch in your throat. Apart from the gossip you've heard from the other bunnies, you're not even aware of it. You are wondering what it will feel like when the Alpha is tying you up with his knot and stretching your pussy wide open around it.

It's something that's on the edge of your sanity, and you're both scared and eager to rub your face on his cock, drooling all over it like a proper slut.

All of your nerves are stretched to the breaking point, and your mind is consumed by a fog of hormones and a mixture of terror. Your skin melts from the sensory overload, and your body begins to prepare itself for the fact that this man is about to ruin your life. You are almost desperate for what is about to happen.

His aura grows heavier, and finally, for the first time all night, you get a whiff of him. It's thick, enveloping, and evil—the smell of bitter almonds with notes of whisky, black cherry, and something else. Your nose twitched as you tried to catch the subtle note, and when you did, you sobbed loudly. There was a faint, subtle scent of blood emanating from it, a scent common to all predators.

In a reflexive response, you try to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the predator by taking small steps backwards. Somewhere in your chest, a feeling of panic is building up, and you can hear your heart beating frantically, pumping blood.

Even through the fog of excitement, your brain is responding to the real danger, telling you to back away, and you obediently follow its advice before your back hits something that's both hard and incredibly soft at the same time. As your trembling fingers sink into the luxuriously thick fur, the feeling of terror returns with redoubled force.

Somebody else was here.

Seonghwa growls, his eyes rolling back as he throws his head back. His mouth opens in noisy, deep breaths, as if he were choking to death, and the sweet pheromones fill the room even more than before. His thick tail flicks behind his back like a whip, and his body shakes a little, overflowing with the energy and lust he has suppressed. Your fear is like sweet ambrosia on his tongue, and he craves more; he wants to hear your scream, your hot tears, your terror, and your excitement pouring out of your tiny cunt.

Oh, baby, he's going to tear you to hell.

His hand squeezes his cock hard under the fabric of his jeans a couple of times, causing him to let out a passionate moan. It's a deep, animal sound, full of dangerous warnings.

And there's nothing but hunger in his eyes when he looks at you again. Seonghwa looks like he wants to rape you until you're numb, to fuck you to death, and to fill you to the brim until your belly swells with all the cum he's going to pour into you. And there's so much of it—somuch that it'll be pouring out of you for hours.

You whimper, every nerve in your body vibrating and tingling, and you try to take another step back, but the hard body behind you won't budge an inch.

"Oh, Fluffy, are you leaving us already? I just came to play." His voice was soft and a little feminine, and you could hear a barely concealed evil chuckle in it. He purred in your ear in a sensual way, and a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you in a tight embrace. Painfully digging into your soft curves were fingers adorned with massive silver rings. The man behind you mooed with satisfaction as he squeezed you even tighter into his arms. "Mmm… what a pretty pet we have here, Seonghwa. A tiny, sweet doll, how lucky we are to have you, huh? Such a silly, innocent little bunny in a den of big wolves". Soft fur wraps around you like a blanket as his cold, sharp nose burrows deep into the curve of your neck. Taking a deep breath, the wolf runs his nose along the pulsating scent gland. He must really like the smell, because you can feel the slight vibration of his growling against your skin. "You smell good - so delicious, fluffy - like peaches and cream. Makes me want to eat you alive." The man chuckles, playfully clicking his teeth against your neck as the slippery liquid moistens your thighs.

"As always on time, Hongjoong." Seonghwa remarks with an irritated tone.

"Don't be so greedy, Hwa. The scent of her excitement wafts through the house like an invitation." The Alpha behind you continues to fiddle with your throat. He runs his nose over your skin almost lazily, as if he has all the time in the world. "You can literally feel her taste on your tongue; you should have a look at Mingi and Yunho right now." He chuckles again and weakly bites the skin of your neck. You tremble all over in his arms, your fear heightened by the mention of other wolves, but with it comes a shameful sense of arousal, and you're clearly aware of how much is dripping from you. The thick, clear liquid is dripping down your legs and soaking into the fabric of your shoes.

Your heart flutters as they speak of you so casually, as if you are nothing more than a thing, a shiny new toy that has caught their attention. It's a knowledge that is simultaneously exhilarating and frightening.

So you try to speak to them again, to ask them to let you go to the farm, but all your words fall on deaf ears.

"Please..." Your voice sounds rather pathetic, more like a plea for their dicks than for a safe return to the farm. "I don't... I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a good, obedient bunny, and I owe nothing to anyone. You've got to be mistaken." You stammered, sobbing, turning your full attention back to the black-haired Alpha, belatedly noticing how faintly the blood-red frame of his bottomless black irises glimmered. "Let me go home, please. My mom is worried."

"Do you think we should let the bunny go, Hwa? She's so courteous, and she's got mum worrying about her." The Alpha behind you, Hongjoon, brings his hand up to stroke the velour base of your ears, and you make a small squeal as his fingers touch the sensitive spot.

"Aren't you just the most adorable pet, Princess? Don't worry, you've got another mommy to look after you now."

As Hongjoong rubbed the soft base of your ear harder, all rational awareness left you completely. Your ears have always been your erogenous zone, and you never let anyone touch them. You stifled a long, whimpering moan when your large front teeth dug painfully into your lower lip. You had to cross your knees to relieve the throbbing between your legs. But that only made more slick run down your legs.

Alpha presses his hips against your plump arse, and you can clearly feel the sheer size of his cock; it's hard, massive, almost palpably hot, even through the fabric, and despite the numbing excitement and lust of your impending heat, you realise that you'll never be able to fit something so thick and large inside you.

You let out a loud squeal at the thought and immediately covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, but it was of no use at all. Through the veil of tears, you can see Seonghwa's fluffy tail swaying upwards, interested in the sound, and Hongjoong letting out a long, languorous moan into your skin.

Wolves and their twisted, lustful minds.

All of it is driving them mad, making their cocks throb painfully in their trousers, and releasing even more of their pheromones. Your crystal-sweet tears on your cheeks, flushed with humiliation and desire; the terror frozen in your wide open eyes; that vulnerable, helpless look; and of course, the thick, creamy scent of your slime.

"My innocent bunny, hasn't anyone told you that there are many bad people in this world?" Seonghwa says with an exaggerated tenderness that makes his plump lips pucker up cutely. Every word that he says is a pure sneer at you, wrapped up in the velvety purr of his deep voice.

"Hwa, it's too hard for our sweet little pet; she's got air in her head." Hongjoong chuckling tauntingly again, and you notice, not without horror, that the distance between you and Seonghwa has shrunk to the extent that you are standing between his spread legs, the toes of your pretty pink satin shoes touching the hem of his luxurious fur coat. Hongjoong's actions were so distracting that you didn't even notice that he was bringing you closer to the main Alpha. Wrapped in a haze of seductive pheromones and lust, your head was indeed empty and light.

A sweet, empty-headed bunny. Such a perfect toy to be used for their amusement.

All Seonghwa has to do is reach out to stroke the soft silk of your thighs, and judging by the way his gaze slides to the edge of your skirt, which frankly left little to the imagination, and his nostrils flare as he inhales the creamy peach scent, the thought crosses his mind as well. And it would appear that he's not the only one.

Hongjoong's fingernails scratch the thin skin on the inside of your thigh like delicate, sharp claws, causing a stream of warm liquid to flow from your pussy. He growls contentedly as the sticky, sweet-smelling moisture remains on his fingertips.

"Is someone excited, fluffy?" His tongue is hot and wet, licking languidly over the swollen, scented gland, and your cunt clenches reflexively. Your face flares with humiliation. "You're such a dirty girl, my darling."

"I'm a good bunny." Slapping your heel against the floor, you protest weakly. Your lips curl into a cute pout by themselves, almost childish.

The scent of Alpha rises, and for the second time tonight, you lose your head at it—it's something so delicious, almost sinful, with notes of chocolate, rum, spice, and pink pepper. A sharp spark of excitement runs through your body, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Your knees buckle, and if Hongjoon wasn't literally holding you, you'd be lying on the floor at their feet. That's where you belong. Turning you to face him, he wraps his fingers around your chin.

Hongjoon's just as strikingly handsome as Seonghwa, but unlike the long-haired Alpha's sensually seductive features, this one has sharper, almost demonic ones.

A truly wolfish smile—all fangs and hunger—plays on his red lips. A pair of pointed white ears twitch interestedly at your attention, and his tail sways lazily behind his back. He's also dressed in furs, a toxic orange and scarlet, and you can't help but notice how perfectly they fit him. It's as bold as his owner.

"Come on, fluffy; don't cry; let daddy take care of that sweet face." In long, slow motion, he licks the tears from your cheeks. Something seems to be breaking inside him as the Alpha rolls his eyes and moans gutturally.

Afraid to even take a breath, you freeze completely in his arms. The excitement rushes through your vagina, and your pussy clenches desperately against nothing. Your big, wet eyes don't move from his face until he meets your gaze once more. A look so dark and predatory that it makes you want to cry even harder than before. Only you can't tell if you're afraid of him or if you want to continue to please him.

"Bunny…you're just asking for a knot, aren't you? All these tears… you're driving me crazy, my angel." His purr is sweet as sugar. His hot tongue licks away your tears as his lips press against your plump, wet cheeks. "Let me explain this to you, my darling. Your "wonderful" farm gave you away to pay off a debt. My fragile little girl, you belong to us now. Ours to play, ours to fuck, ours to breed."

"Hongjoong is absolutely right, princess. From this day on, you belong to us, my bunny. You are such a jewel for our house. Maybe we'll even let the younger wolves play with you a bit. They're a bit rough around the edges, but I promise they'll be on their best behaviour around a beautiful thing like you. If they bite you, they'll lick your tiny cunt to make up for it."

Your left heel taps the floor a few times, and you manage to make a low squeaking noise.

"I'm not an object." You didn't even know who you were trying to convince—you or them. Of course you were a thing in their hands, nothing more than a pretty cock sleeve, and the words Hongjoong and Seonghwa had said a moment before had accurately described your position in their house.

The black-haired Alpha rose from his seat and towered over you. Up close, he's not just beautiful; he's godlike. Instinctively, you arch your back and tilt your head back so that your eyes meet his. His gaze is so searing, so sharp, that you feel your skin burning underneath as you begin to wriggle and whimper in Hongjoong's tight grip, the two Alphas chuckling merrily.

"Aren't you?" He raises an eyebrow at you in a mocking manner. The corners of his lips curl up in a mischievous grin, just enough to reveal the tips of his pointed fangs. "So tell me, bunny, what shall I call you?"

"Y/N." Your voice is no more than a whisper to him. Seonghwa's ears twitch in your direction with interest, and Hongjoong's warm breath kisses the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. They heard you very well. But that doesn't stop them from addressing you with a certain harshness.

Seonghwa's hand runs gently through your hair before he grabs a handful and pulls it out sharply. You squeak shrilly, and the sound echoes with their laughter, velvety and mocking.

They are large, warm, and deadly, and you look tiny in the midst of them; the difference in your size is so obvious.

"Speak up, fluffy. I want to hear that pretty little voice of yours loud and clear."

In the meantime, Hongjoong's fingers are already pulling at your hair on the other side, without any ceremony at all. His claws scratch your scalp for a second, and the stinging prick sends a shiver down the length of your back.

"Be gentle, Hongjoong; you don't want to break it before its time, do you? The puppies will go mad if they can't get their teeth into the bunny." Seonghwa chuckles.

He tilts his face towards you to lick away your tears as he watches you squirm in his mate's arms with sadistic pleasure. You can't help but notice that Seonghwa's tongue is much longer than the other Alpha's, so attuned are you to their every action.

"Be a good girl and do as you're told. You don't want to disappoint mommy, do you, Fluffy?"

Be good. That's what you've always been told. Be obedient, because that's what the perfect little bunny should be, and you would never dare break that rule. It's literally tattooed on the subcortex of your brain. Standards of behaviour and obedience have been pounded into your pretty little head for years, and even if your instincts weren't to please your more dominant partner, prey, or predator, it doesn't matter; your obedience reflex would definitely be kicking in.

"Y/N." This time, you speak clearly and loudly as you are asked. "My name is Y/N."

"Y/N." Seonghwa pulls. As if tasting your name. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, it sounds so sweet, bunny. Mommy likes it." He grins broadly at you, showing his sharp teeth, and your cunt clenches shamefacedly in response, releasing another copious amount of mucus.

You make a soft sound, something between a squeak and a wheeze, your tail tucking in, your long ears drooping and flattening against your head.

"So what are we going to do with you, Y/N?" Hongjoong rolls your name over his tongue as if he's licking you between your legs, sounding almost pornographic. You want to hear it over and over again, any way you can.

"I don't know..." It's such a shame, but your instincts take over your mind, making you flow like a waterfall, dumbing yourself down for their pleasure.

"Mmm, my little angel, don't you know?" Hongjoong's lips touched the bowl of your ear, the tip of his tongue licking the soft skin and teasing your already shy nature. "Do you want daddy to spoil you, fluffy?" He purrs, making your cheeks burn shamefully, and you desperately shake your head to say yes, heated and embarrassed.

All rational thought becomes a blur, and your clouded mind focuses only on the growing sensation of the void between your legs and the puddle of liquid flowing from it.

"Please." Tears roll down your face, and your knees buckle as you shake violently and begin to go limp in the grip of the wolf. Seonghwa sucks aggressively at the skin of your swollen scent gland, leaving a mark of his right to you, a mark of his superiority. You're nothing more than a pretty fuck toy, the cutest sleeve for his cock, and the perfect bitch for him to breed with. "Ah-alpha, I beg you..."

"Look at her, Hwa, such a polite girl. Begging and pleading like a well-mannered pet. Shouldn't we have a reward for her?" He puts wet kisses on your throat. The sound of his purring voice sends signals straight to your quivering, warm pussy. "Don't you want the big, scary wolves to breed this small, narrow cunt?" You draw in a sharp breath as you feel Hongjoong's hand move down, squeezing the inside of your thigh and forcing your legs to spread apart.

As the palm of his hand cups your pussy in a possessive manner, you wheeze for air, and Hongjoong gasps slightly at the sensation of how wet you are. A shiver runs through your body as the Alpha slowly rubs his fingers along your folds through your silk panties, filling the room with a wet slurping sound as the fluid pours out. His fingers glide over your needy clit, trailing lightly as you fall deeper and deeper.

"My angel, daddy is going to make sure that this sweet pussy is always fed and filled with his warm cum." His fingers rub roughly over your throbbing clit, through your damp panties. They slide lower, pushing the panties lightly into your hole, mockingly watching your body jerk weakly. The touch stings, the sensitive edges of your hole tightening instinctively around his fingertips.

You want to spread your legs as wide as possible for the Alphas in front of you. To show how ready you are to be used, to be stuffed with their cocks, and, of course, to be tied with their big knots. To let their rough, long tongues hit the weakest places inside you, to let them eat you up all night long until you pass out from screaming their names and the number of orgasms you've had.

"Alpha..." You say, your hips arching shamelessly as you try to push Hongjoong's fingers as deep as possible. Your chubby butt swings from side to side in a motion that invites him in. Eliciting a hiss from him through clenched teeth, your soft buttocks rub against the large, firm bulge. "P-please spoil me... I-I'm begging-I need you, p-please, I need you so much..."At the moment, you're openly sobbing.

Seonghwa's long fingers are running along the side of your jaw, lifting your face as you stare into his mesmerised eyes, completely losing all sense of reason.

He's so close; the luxurious fur of his coat caresses your naked skin, burning where they touch. Their expensive furs envelop you, trapping you in a cage of hot bodies. The only thought in your head is the desire for them to spread you out on those furs and fuck until you can't stand it anymore, and even after. All you need is for them to stuff you full and knotting up your needy hole.

You're going to be a good girl for them—the best bunny they ever had.

"Shhh, don't cry; mommy will take care of you, my princess. Come to me." Seonghwa's voice seems to have dropped a few octaves, becoming more hoarse and hungrier than it was before. "Give me a taste of that sweet mouth."

Your face lifts obediently as he asks, and the next thing you know, his lips are burrowing into yours, burning painfully. Your eyes widen for a moment, and you are in a state of panic.

You weren't good at kissing. All those lazy, soft touches of lips you exchanged with some of the bunnies on the farm could hardly be called a full-fledged kiss, and they certainly didn't compare to the way Seonghwa devoured your mouth.

He pulls away from you for a moment as you squeal against his lips. While you're distracted by Seonghwa, Hongjoong slide the fabric of your panties to the side. His nimble fingers push the sticky, swollen folds apart and give you incredible pleasure. Cottontail twitches, your breath catching in your throat.

"Feeling good, sweetheart? Do you like the way daddy is stroking your needy cunt?"

"Yeshhh, it feels so good."

"Don't let yourself get distracted." Seonghwa digs her fingers into your skin and turns the touch into a painful grip. "Now mommy will teach you how to kiss properly. Open your mouth for me, darling." In obedience to his command, you open your mouth to find his lips attacking you with renewed force. As you unconsciously reach out to him and press harder against those plump, plush lips, the Alpha moans in approval. He sucks your lower lip between his sharp teeth before biting down hard on it, only to then stick out his tongue and run the rough appendage over your bruised lip in a soothing manner. An action that leaves you gasping and clutching the luxurious fur of his coat with your hands.

Seonghwa's long tongue slides between your teeth and presses against yours, licking your palate and pushing deep into your throat, literally licking your mouth from the inside out. His silky appendage moves sinfully, sliding and twirling in teasing motions that make you dizzy and your toes curl. You are intoxicated by the sweetness of the pheromones on his tongue, which enter your mouth with his saliva. Liquid desire builds up between your thighs. Viscous, transparent strands of your juices flow directly into the palm of Hongjoong's hand, down his wrist, and soak into the sleeve of his fur coat. The pain between your thighs is almost unbearable; your stomach twists and clenches, and you moan long and hard.

As his lips pull away from yours, thin strands of saliva hold your lips together before they break apart and fall to the side of your chin. The soft petals of his mouth slide down your face before he licks your lips, collecting saliva.

"Stick out your tongue, little slut." Hongjoong's subtle order echoes in your ears, and of course you do as you are told right away.

Your tongue is sticking out as you open your mouth as wide as possible. With glassy, tear-filled eyes, you watch as Seonghwa collects the saliva in his mouth and spits it out onto your waiting tongue. He purrs at the sight of a thick, viscous droplet rolling down your pink tongue.

"Swallow, darling." And you obliged.

"Aren't you the loveliest pet we've ever had? Such an obedient bunny for mommy." He leaned in again to kiss you almost innocently, which contradicted what he said next. "Now kiss Hongjoong and give him a taste of this fucking honey mouth before I spread you out on any available surface and stick my tongue so deep into your tight, wet cunt that you won't be able to live a day without it."

Your heel hits the floor a couple of times in a nervous manner, and Seonghwa runs his long fingers through your fluffy curls and turns your head in the direction of Hongjoong with all his might. His rings are clinging to your blonde strands, pulling them painfully as he moves, practically ripping them out of your head.

"There you are,, my angel; give daddy a kiss." He purses his lips sweetly and looks at you expectantly, the devil's delight and apparent derision dancing in his eyes. Oh, he is having so much fun watching you squirm.

"But, I... I thought that..." You babble confusedly.

"Don't be a disappointment to daddy, princess. You were told to kiss him." Seonghwa is pulling at your hair again, and it is hurting you.

In a clumsy attempt to repeat what Seonghwa had done to you, you tentatively reach for the other Alpha's lips. You stick out the tip of your tongue and lick weakly at the plump lower lip. Then you scrape at it with your big front teeth.

"Stupid bunny, do you even know how to do that?" Hongjoong laughs. Finally, he pulls his hand out from under your skirt and wraps it around your cheeks, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh as he does so. His fingers are wet and glistening with your own slime, and thick drops of it run down your cheeks where he is holding you.

Your velour ears twitch slightly as a whimper rises in your throat.

"You can't do anything on your own, can you, pretty? Of course, you don't. After all, you're just a cock sleeve; you have absolutely no intelligence. But daddy is going to teach you everything, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Hongjoong's kiss is as hungry and cruel as his humiliating words. His teeth are sharp, and his breath is intermittent and hot. You mindlessly submit to every insistent movement of his lips, letting him push his tongue into your supple mouth. Alpha kisses like he's hungry for it, deep and loud. Before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth and gripping the front of his gorgeous fur coat as if you'll slip away if you don't.

You've never been kissed like this before, and the sensation is like a current against your skin—painful, searing, traumatic, and shudderingly pleasurable—awakening something inside you you didn't know existed. Your insides are burning like fire, the desire blazing in your veins and roaring in your ears. All caution is long forgotten; you feel like you have a fever. Gasping through kissed lips, you look straight into Seonghwa's eyes as Hongjoong begins to kiss your slime-stained cheek and jaw.

Hwa is licking the top row of his fanged teeth and slowly rubbing his thumb over your swollen scent gland.

You whimper as Hongjoong presses his mouth to the other side of your neck again and again, worshipping the skin with his lips and tongue before finally nuzzling his face into the curve of your throat and inhaling noisily.

"Daddy..." It feels like you're drunk; your hormones are working so hard. Your hands come up to tangle in his auburn locks—so soft and silky—and you run your fingers through them as he plants long, lingering kisses on your throat and the curves of your breasts where the organza blouse allows.

"My sweet bunny, it's time for your reward." Seonghwa murmured somewhere deep in his throat with a soft grin. "Are you ready to take mommy's knot?" The word 'knot' made you whine even louder. Yes, yes, you want his knot. A thousand times yes.

"I want it; I want it badly, please." You beg, tugging at the collar of his fur coat.

"I'm sorry, what was that, fluffy?" Hongjoong's voice becomes very deep, yours in contrast sticking in your throat as he growls angrily: "I didn't hear you, angel..." Your breath caught in your throat again as his hand found its way under your skirt once more, his fingers pressing painfully against your throbbing clit, causing you to twitch and new tears to roll down your swollen cheeks.

"Please daddy, please mommy, knot me; I've been a very good girl."

"This is my little pet."

Hongjoong lets go of you, and his hands replace Seonghwa's as the tall Alpha turns you around in one sharp motion, pushing your body down. Your body practically falls into his large leather chair. He quickly throws your legs over the armrests; your short skirt scuffs up; and Seonghwa runs his fingertips over your wet panties, causing you to wriggle and squirm. Your legs are bent and spread, and you squeal softly as the Alpha kneels down in front of you, his luxurious fur spreading out on the floor all around him.

Hongjoong kneels beside you too, his fingers rubbing the base of your long ear. Your hands fly up to cover your face, flushed with embarrassment.

"Put them down now, bunny. I want to see you crumble under my tongue." Seonghwa growled, and you nodded in pure submission, slowly lowering your hands and breathing the words out of your lips before you could choke on them.

"Yes, mommy."

"Don't you think you have too many clothes on, Fluffy?" It's a question that doesn't have to have an answer and has a clear command at the end. "I want to see your boobs. Take your clothes off.

You obediently obey, despite how shaky your fingers are and how humiliated you must look right now—your legs spread wide, long strands of slime dripping from your knickers, forming a shiny puddle on the soft carpet, your cheeks red, and your mouth swollen and wet from being kissed.

Your tentative hands undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing your plump, heavy tits encased in a silk bra.

Once your blouse is completely undone, Hongjoong's insatiable mouth is immediately on your breasts, caressing them with hot, open-mouthed kisses. He squeezes your breasts together over your bra and lifts his eyes to you as you let out a shrill moan. You want to bring your legs together, whimpering and squirming in the uncomfortable position, but Seonghwa's broad palms hold your thighs painfully.

"They are very sensitive; please be gentle." You barely speak; the words are solid breaths and whimpers, your heart pounding in your chest as the top of your bra is pulled down, exposing your swollen, wet nipples to the two hungry Alphas.

The smell of milk fills the room with a new wave of pheromones, this time coming from both Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

A sharp, hot tongue slides over your nipple as Hongjoong stares at you through his half-closed eyelids. His mouth closes around the pink-candy flesh, the tip of his tongue slowly circling around it as he pulls back his cheeks and swallows the sweet liquid that pours into his mouth. Your other breast is lazily squeezed by Seonghwa's warm hand, making you tremble and whimper from the intense stimulation. It feels so good and new—not at all like feeding babies on a farm.

"Aren't you a complete delight, princess? Sweeter than sweet." More like a cat than a wolf, Seonghwa's tongue finds your other nipple and licks it slowly.

"I...Hm...I was helping to feed the little bunnies; we're short of helpers and nobody wants to, so I...oh..."

Hongjoong moans at the taste of it, and pulls away from your breasts for a moment to tear the strap of the bra with strength, tearing the thin silk fabric. Your tits are now completely exposed to them, the milk still gushing out and trickling down the length of your body. You are a dreadful mess, not at all like your normal tidy self. What would your mother say if she saw you now?

"Look at you, all flushed and ready for us, my angel".

At that moment, you felt Seonghwa bury his nose in your folds and take a deep breath. It sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"Mommy, please…"

"You smell like peaches and cream, princess, I wonder if you taste the same." Seonghwa licks a long strip of the silk, his tongue hot and rough with saliva dripping from it, and God, it's too much for your innocent mind, but you can't tear your eyes away for more than a second.

Hongjoong takes your nipple in his mouth again, sucking hard, and you can feel the streams of mucus flowing freely from the folds of your wet vagina from all the stimulation you're experiencing.

Seonghwa lazily sucks on the silk partition between his mouth and your needy cunt. He makes soft sounds of approval as he licks and licks again, as if the taste of your mucus is something he desperately needs. Strong hands hold your hips still, even though you desperately want to try and close them around the handsome face of the dark-haired Alpha, to squeeze his tongue until you cum.

Your panties are pulled to the side so that Seonghwa can press his face against the warm, slippery folds and slowly begin to lick your labia. The pressure of the wet, open-mouthed kisses and the deceptively soft, caressing licks on your sweet skin are almost unbearable. A helpless sob comes from your throat as Seonghwa's tongue plunges into the heat of your sensitive hole, and you clench around it, trying to hold the sensation as long as possible.

Teeth slip out now and then, reaching out to the side of your vulva, teasing seductively, a sweet reminder that no matter how nice the Alpha is being to you, no matter how cute his fluffy tail is wagging, when he's eating your cunt, he's deadly. This simple fact makes your pussy throbbing with desire.

"That's right, bunny; let mommy enjoy your sweet cunt. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you; you really do taste like peaches and cream. Joong, you should have a taste of her; she's a real treat. Sweet, silly bunny." Seonghwa cooed and gave the thin strip of silk panties back to you, moving it so that it was between your labia. He pulls it a little tighter, causing that painful pressure on your swollen clit and friction between the sensitive folds. You feel a shuddering sensation, but the Alpha just laughs at it. "Don't be so greedy, fluffy, and say thank you. Otherwise, I won't let Joong play with you.".

Much to Seonghwa's delight, you react immediately and show obedience.

"Thanks mommy." A response that shows just how desperately you wanted to be tasted and gobbled up.

As soon as Seonghwa steps aside, Hongjoong is between your legs. You can finally enjoy the devilish beauty of this Alpha as his red-orange fur coat spreads across the carpet like a poisonous puddle. Hongjoong's face is unjustly handsome. It's stunningly framed by strands of soft brown hair; the red lips are insidiously parted in a broad but hungry wolfish grin; and the gaze is sharp and predatory. There is a dark, terrifying glint in it, like that of an animal that has found its perfect prey.

The prey instinct in you kicks in again, causing you to squirm and writhe, trying to close your thighs and squeeze yourself into a ball. Your hormones and your slutty bunny nature, on the other hand, want you to spread your legs even wider so that the Alpha can eat your pussy more comfortably.

"Is that all for me, angel?" He runs the palms of his hands down your trembling thighs, leaving long streaks of nails on your milky skin. Rude. "You look so sweet, blushing, and needy, like a feast ready for the wolf to eat, don't you, bunny?

"I...aah...I'm g-ready for you." It was hard to concentrate on the words as Seonghwa's hands started to squeeze your boobs again, causing even more milk to flow down your chest and body. Your pretty clothes were all ruined; what a shame.

"My good little bunny girl. Let's get rid of all the excess." Your knickers come off in one sharp motion, completely exposing your pink, oozing pussy to the two hungry wolves.

The new influx of sweet liquid oozing from the soft petal-like folds makes Hongjoong growl, his fangs showing, his gaze never leaving your wet, tantalising pussy for a second.

"Lick her already, Joong, or I swear I'll kick you out of here and keep her all to myself, or I'll let Wooyoung get to her first." Seonghwa's tail whips irritably behind his back like a whip, and he rolls his eyes at Hongjoong.

"If you let his pretty face bump into that pussy, you'll have to deal with a whole bunch of impatient puppies who can't keep their dicks in their trousers. Is that what you want, Hwa?" The auburn-haired alpha chuckles evilly and finally presses against your cunt, a dirty, open-mouthed kiss.

Tears of vague relief run down your face, and you feel Seonghwa's rough, long tongue on your cheeks again.

Your heel tried in vain to kick at the air, and your whole body shook with the fine tremors of Hongjoong's sharp, stinging kisses. Wet as syrup, the wolf's grinning lips cling to your hypersensitive, swollen clit and refuse to let go. Your back arched in an awkward position, and you pressed your pussy closer to his face, literally rubbing against him. His nose is pressed tightly against your wet mound, and his jaw works with every eating movement.

Your slick is everywhere—on his cheeks, his lips, his chin, dripping down his neck, and over the collar of his white t-shirt.

God, it's fucking dirty.

He is ruthless, the movements of his tongue wild, sloppy, and hungry as he digs greedily between your trembling thighs and dripping folds, sucking the sweet nectar of your excitement from the contracting orifice. Lips suck roughly at the edge of the swollen pink flesh, and your shamefully wet insides clench in a disappointing void. Clawed fingers dig painfully into the softness of your thighs, leaving blackened bruises.

A high-pitched squeal gets stuck in your throat as Hongjoong's thumbs force your tender labia apart and his tongue slides deeper. The sensation is almost heavenly. Streams of viscous mucus pour out of you like a waterfall into that beautiful, insatiable mouth, and your whole body shudders in short spasms. Your heel twitches desperately in the air, kicking in vain, and your ears fall back to your face, drooping and muffled with pleasure.

"Ahhhh... daddy."

Seonghwa's fingers wrap around your chin, squeezing painfully, and you lift your head so you're looking into his eyes.

"All your pleasure is mine. Only I will decide when to fuck you, who will fuck you, and how long it will last. When you cum, you will look at me and only me, no matter whose face or cock is in your cunt or tight arse. Do you understand, mommy, my sweet slut?"

Barely aware of all that is happening, you at least try to answer; your mouth opens, but the only sound you make is a long, drawn-out moan.

Apparently that wasn't the answer he wanted, because his other hand snakes down your body, slapping your clit with palpable force. Electric shocks shoot through your body, and you wriggle in the tight grip of the two Alphas, practically folded in half in the uncomfortable leather chair.

"Do you understand me, pet?"

"Yeah, yeah, I understand... I understand you, mommy." You shake your head like a doll to confirm this, and a new wave of sobbing sweeps over you.

Hongjoong pulls away from you for a second, his whole face soaked in your sweet slime, and his gaze is wild and unfocused, as if he's drunk.

"Fuck, I can never get enough of you, fluffy. Daddy's precious princess has the sweetest, most beautiful cunt in the whole world."

"Of course, Joong, that's our bunny." Hwa presses his fingers even harder into your face, the touch turning into a brutal grip. His fluffy tail swishes enthusiastically behind his back. The gaze of Seonghwa's bottomless, hypnotic eyes turns to Hongjoong. His sensual, kissable lips stretch into the exact same toothy smile as the Alpha between your thighs. "Do you want to make it even sweeter?"

It's only a moment before the palm of Seonghwa's hand slaps your swollen, mistreated clit once more. Your body ripples with sharp pain mixed with blissful pleasure. It's a wild mixture of sensations, resembling a combination of sweetness and sharpness.

"Try it, it's definitely better now." He laughed joyfully, like a child, looking down at you.

As soon as the burning sensation has subsided, Hongjoong's mouth locks onto your battered clit, mercilessly sucking and licking it with his hot tongue. He's so insatiable, possessively devouring his beautiful princess's exciting cunt, his face practically smothered in pussy. His hungry mouth is vicious, and his appetite is endless as he devours his selfishly greedy pleasure and demonic features soaked in the sugar nectar of your slime.

As the ferocity of his mouth grows—hungrier and hungrier—you try to pull away, too sensitive and overwhelmed, but a painful slap on your thigh stops all movement.

"And where are you going, fluffy? Daddy's not done playing with you."

Long fingers slide between your delicate creases, opening them wider for second Alpha. Hongjoong moans in appreciation as he gains more access to your quivering hole, swallowing the juices pouring from you with a loud grunt.

He chuckles in sadistic amusement, gazing up at you through impossibly long and thick eyelashes before his predatory wolf lips pull away from your clit to tell:

"Cum for daddy, bunny. Fill me with your cum."

It only takes a second for your body to obediently follow his command, and you come with a high-pitched moan. Huge jets of fluid are spurting out of your used pussy, forming a puddle of it under your arse and dripping down onto the floor.

Your glorious, twisted screams of agonised ecstasy and super-sensual sobs filling the room are music to the ears of these two Alphas.

Seonghwa bends his face over your cunt in order to prolong your orgasm and sucks all the juices out of you as if he were dying of thirst. The sound is utterly animalistic and disgusting, but it makes the fucking slime squirt even harder. Hongjoong's mouth keeps up, sucking mercilessly and lapping at the lush, honey-soaked folds.

The only sounds that come out of your dolly lips are the whimpers and hoarse moans of despair that are so beautiful to them. In the eyes of Seonghwa and Hongjoong, you look amazing - a gorgeous, broken thing, all flushed and obedient for their pleasure.

You should know what disgusting and perverse things they will do to you and how much they will ravage your innocent and fragile body. The party has just started.

These thoughts make their cocks throb and flow in pain, and the knot at the base of it swells up. Seonghwa and Hongjoong look at each other as they keep licking you methodically. Their tongues meet in long, sweeping strokes, caressing each other and mixing all your flavours together. You twitched weakly, half lying back in the chair, limp and exhausted from orgasming.

"Don't you dare fall asleep, honey. We were just at the beginning of our game."

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bootlegspiders · 4 days

Text

Hey, so for Watcher fans who may not wanna pay for another subscription or just wanna watch something new here are some other youtubers you should take a look at if you want to get a spook or learn some history

(* = potentially triggering topics covered usually associated with crimes, so be careful)

Ghost Hunting and general spooky vibes:

AmysCrypt - Your typical ghost hunting show with two Australians traveling the world, though I will say they do go to places I've never heard of before and they do very good research. And there are some goofs along with the spooks.

The Ouija Brothers - Two British dudes finding ghosts in England. The vibes are generally pretty chill and it's a good time

The Paranormal Scholar - A mixed bag of all paranormal happenings from ghosts to demons to cryptids and aliens. Sort of an overview to deepdives on various paranormal occurrences. The research is immaculate and their voice is very soothing in my opinion.

Paranormal Quest - Ghost hunting in the US, sometimes goofy sometimes serious, but they do go to some interesting places and some familiar ones too

Weird History:

ObsoleteOddity* - This guy is great, like 80% of the things he covers I've never heard of before. Very atmospheric, fun little visuals, and a large variety of weird events and people for topics.

Georgia Marie* - A little bit of everything, but she focuses on strange things that have happened, lgbt history, true crime, and historical disasters. She covers enough of everything that I'm sure you'll find something

Stefanie Valentine* - I'm not sure if she even posts anymore, but I thought what she was doing was great. Think Vampira or Elvira but for older true crime and ghost stories, I think the latest covered would have been like early 1900s. Idk I just thought it was like a cute spooky lil storytime

Caitlin Doughty or Ask A Mortician* - Pretty sure y'all would know who she is but just in case, she's a mortician who covers topics relating to death! From odd ways people have died, or odd things that have happened to people after they've died. And just odd or tragic things that have happened through history. It's silly, but done with levity and care and respect the topics deserve.

General History:

Part-Time Explorer - Mostly history on ships and ghost towns with the occasional train. Lots of research and interviews, very well done and worth checking out even if it may not be your thing.

History's Forgotten People - Talks about sometimes obscure, or sometimes not, historical individuals. Even if you've heard of the person in the topic, they'll talk on something obscure about that person.

History Tea Time with Lindsay Holiday - A heavy focus on royalty around the world, a generally upbeat dive into historic individuals.

(Or you could always go watch time team, that's an option and it's my guilty pleasure love me some archeology)

True Crime:

There are so many out there, so I'll just recommend two of my favorites

Gabulosis* - She focuses on vintage cases 20 years or older (literally in her opener) and is well researched and respectful. Another one that talks on cases I've never heard of that deserve to be heard.

Mysterious WV* - True crime and missing persons based in the West Virginia area and neighboring states. Idk how to even explain the vibes. This guy is just great please watch him trust me you won't be disappointed.

That's all for now, feel free to add your own recs out there!

#or you can just go watch night mind lol #watcher #ghost files #mystery files #puppet history #too many spirits #youtube recommendations #youtube recs #ghost hunting #history #true crime #let me know if you want any more

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luveline · 8 months

Note

heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.

but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!

love your writing and page, <3

ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader

Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress.

It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts.

"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby.

"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch.

"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?"

"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that."

Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you.

"Too much?" you ask cautiously.

"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?"

"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler."

"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines.

Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…"

Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them.

His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly.

You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice."

"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms."

Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side.

"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?"

A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine."

"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear."

Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble.

"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask.

"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says.

Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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eloise-t-g · 5 days

Text

i think for me, the watcher situation comes down to this:

it's absolutely respectable that the watcher team wants to grow and produce better quality content. it's respectable that they don't want to stagnate and end up pushing the same content out over and over again. that's not satisfying for them creatively, i get that.

however, if higher quality, more heavily produced content is not what your fans are asking for, then you can't ask them to fund it.

this all-or-nothing method they've gone for is frankly bizarre. it feels like they leap-frogged all other alternatives to improving their finances and ended up here, alienating and frustrating the majority of their fanbase (the fanbase they thanked for getting them to where they are).

i think this could have gone a lot better if they:

Hadn't hyped up this video for a week.

Hadn't announced the worth it successor just beforehand.

Hadn't put out a wishy-washy, "boo hoo we're so sad about this", over-produced video.

Hadn't made it $6/month (more in a lot of countries given exchange rates).

Had considered that this means fans in specific countries literally cannot pay for the subscription due to geo/region-locking.

my ideas for improving their funds, aka things they could have tried before blowing their brand up: create their own website with two options - a free version with ads and a paid version without ads, OR make better use of their patreon/make their website extra content, not all their content, for example:

Put the ghost file debriefs on there.

Put shows like survival mode on there (or even shift that show from pre-recorded video to live-stream - live stream access to patrons and VOD access to everyone, maybe).

Put episode commentaries there.

Do reaction videos to their old buzzfeed content, talk about memories and BTS, and put that there.

Put one/two episodes of each show, per season on there (and ONLY there).

Put the episodes up there a few days early.

Make specific, website only content (that's not your main and most popular series aka ghost files and puppet history).

Record the live, in-person shows and put those VODs up there.

EDIT (thought of something else lmao): put extended or even uncut versions of ghost files on there. Paranormal Detour on Detune's twitch channel has shown that people will willingly sit through 6+ hours of a ghost investigation.

EDIT: idk, do livestreams once a week where you watch scary movies with fans on discord or twitch.

(side note: the fact that they're not taking down their patreon and instead shifting all of their podcast content on there, something the patreons who have been loyally giving them money for years didn't ask for, is ridiculous and greedy. add to this the fact that they don't even get a free sub to the new website, instead get 40% off - a measly 10% more than anyone else who subs before the official launch).

the thing for me is that they're claiming they want to make "television" and "television-grade content". that's completely fine. what's not completely fine is acting like your four episodes a month is equal to netflix's entire catalogue.

this really felt like it should have been something they told us they were progressing towards, not something they revealed to be on the imminent horizon. idk, it just feels out of nowhere. no, they don't owe us all of the info about their company. but something had to be better than this.

final thought - it's okay and valid to be upset at the team for this. for a lot of people, it's a complete betrayal (especially the comment that $6 a month is something "anyone and everyone can afford", i mean yikes). i do think some people's anger got the best of them, and some of the comments i've seen across youtube, twitter, and tumblr are plain bullying, racism, and harassment. until we have the whole story, we can't decide that one founder (aka steven in a lot of people's minds) is solely responsible. i know a lot of these awful things are only coming from a small minority of the fandom, but they still get seen.

at the end of the day, all three of them got up in front of a camera and made this video, together. that can only lead us to the conclusion that they made this decision together. acting like these men in their 30s couldn't stand up against it if they truly wanted to, is so strange and parasocial lmao.

tl;dr there were much better ways of going about this announcement, if it even needed to be made at all. however, that doesn't excuse the hateful shit being spewed at the team. for now, all we know is the three founders decided they were done with youtube, and done with their loyal youtube audience.

(i have so many more thoughts on this but i need to stop lmao. however i do wonder how different things could have been if 1. they had hired someone with actual business experience as their CEO from the jump, and 2. this video was more of a "hey we're broke! this is a last-ditch effort to save our company!". guess those questions will remain ... well ... you know ...).

#watcher #ryan bergara #steven lim #shane madej #buzzfeed unsolved #unsolved #worth it

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angelltheninth · 5 days

Note

@thelightofmylife hello Angell!! It’s me again, I really still can’t get enough of your HSR writing, I’ve been eating it everyday and repeatedly read it hehehe

If I may— have you considered a gentle, sincere, and kind reader with Aventurine? Someone who is patient with him and is willing to be with him despite everything… loving and everything.

I personally thought this worked so well as a prompt w Aventurine considering what a sad pile of noodles he is,,, but I also think (optional) this would work beautifully with Sunday, Welt, and Jing Yuan.

There is no pressure to do this or any of the characters I’ve listed / requested, I am simply grateful for your time and energy that you give to us as is 🥰🫶✨

-Sen/Ying 💖

I think the prompt could work well! These guys need a lot of love.

Pairing: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Sunday, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kisses, cuddles, reassurance

A/N: Why do they always give these characters the most messed up backstories? Can't they just be happy?

Aventurine already had doubts about you loving him from the very beginning. There are too many ways this can go wrong, he always had to play it off when you kiss him so softly and tell him you love him without wanting to manipulate him. Of course you love him! Cause he's so cool and charming! He hates keeping you at arms length when all you want is genuinely love him.

Jing Yuan has been through a lot in his life, battles, seeing people he loves die, he's not about to add you to that list. It's very obvious that you love him, he loves you too, he kisses you all the time but at the same that that love is a risk, a target on your back. That's why he has to keep a close eye on you, he wants to spend all his free time with you and make lots of memories.

Sunday knows you love him but can't help but think it might be because of his important family and not himself. That happened to him before so you understand why he was a bit cold towards you at first. He's not cold anymore, actually he's quite open with his affections and happy you return them. As long as you're by his side he feels like he can handle anything.

Welt felt respectable for you somehow, like it was up to him to make sure you have everything you need and that you're happy. Completely forgot about his own well being so he's always grateful when you pull him on an early work break and it him down in the comfiest chair for a little cuddle session. A guy like him doesn't need much affection in front of others but he is more than happy to get it in private.

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1644s · 5 days

Text

trust me, I’ve got nothing for you other than love

warnings/tags: minors DNI, 18+, dark themes, implied babytrapping, woc!reader, mafia!AU (background), arranged marriage!AU, pregnancy, lovesick!lando, reader is on birth control but is she really?, manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, possessive behavior, dark!lando, these tags are not exhaustive

wc: 5.3k (what happened here...)

summary: Your marriage vows are til death do you part but Lando sees no harm in ensuring your forever is, well, forever.

dividers by @/cafekitsune :)

unedited, unbeta'd, etc. this was supposed to be maybe 2k but...here we are... anyway! there's a bigger background plot going on but I cannot be bothered to expand on it aldkjfas please let me know your thoughts and happy reading!!

also! sinha = lion in bengali :)

“You just have to meet him, sinha.”

Through the grainy FaceTime call, your mother’s patient expression holds a touch of exasperation. She’s not scolding you but it’s a close call.

“No expectations?”

She shakes her head. “No expectations,” she promises and then she softens. She looks less like the wife of a criminal and more like your mom. “If you don’t like him—”

“Let me know what day he is free and I’ll clear up my schedule,” you interrupt, unable to bear listening to platitudes. It doesn’t matter if you like or dislike Lando Norris. Your father needs his family’s power and resources. This is a formality for your sake.

There are no expectations because this isn’t a choice.

You make a show of looking away from the camera as if being called and then look back at her with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, I have to go. Someone’s at the door.” Your mother tries to say something else but you interrupt her with a hurried, “Love you! Bye.”

The call cuts. Your mother’s disappointed face lingers for a moment longer and then the screen fades to black.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rub at your face. Your parents have a way of forcing your hand and making it seem as if they are doing you a favor.

Objectively, Lando is nice. There is little overlap between your circle of friends and his but there is overlap and it lies with Carlos Sainz Jr.

Carlos has had nothing but good things to say about Lando when the topic is broached.

“A little immature but it is to be expected,” he laughed, wine sloshing in his glass. “He’s annoying. Like a little younger brother.”

That glowing review is all you have to go off of until Xavier comes back from his recon mission. You don’t think following Lando around with a camera necessitates such a dramatic title but it is not your opinion they ask for.

You’ve heard of what he is capable of but it is not the red flag it should be. Perhaps it is misguided and shockingly insensitive of you, but you care more if he will be a good person to you. You don’t need his affection but you do need his respect. And with that, you’ll need him to care about you enough to want to keep you safe. A man who feels obligated to keep you safe is not one you want.

Your phone pings. The screen lights up with a message from your father.

Clear your schedule for next Saturday. Wear something nice. Details to come.

Your spoon is halfway out of your mouth when Lando sits across from you.

His hair is perfectly styled to look effortless. A stray curl hangs down his forehead and only adds to his boyish charm.

He grins at you, eyes bright and shoulders relaxed. A backpack is slung over his shoulder and he’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. They are of good quality but the lack of suit emphasizes his youth.

You’re suddenly struck by how young the two of you must look. It will be many years before Lando is expected to take over his father’s position but looking at him now, you can’t imagine such a situation. You know better, though, given his reputation.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

It’s so ridiculous it makes you laugh. “You really know how to keep a girl waiting, huh?” you say, more amused than not.

He’s fifteen minutes late but you don’t mind. Tardiness is the last thing you worry about in a partner. His body count, for example, is a more pressing matter.

The illegal one that is.

“I see you’ve gotten some food though,” he says, nodding towards the parfait you ordered. “Care to share?”

You offer him your spoon and when he reaches out, you pull your hand back. “Any allergies?”

He leans over the table and grabs your wrist. Dipping his head down, he takes a bite. “None,” he says around the granola.

You make a noncommittal noise. So far, he matches what Xavier’s detailed about him. There’s an easy going air about him which loosens the tension in your muscles. However, as much as you’d like this to be a normal introduction, you and Lando are working on borrowed time. So you’ll need to speed this along.

A litmus test might do the trick.

“Alright, let me see it.”

His smile disappears. “See what?”

“The file you have on me.”

He props his head with his hand. He’s careful as he says, “I don’t have a file on you.”

Leaning back into your chair, you cross your arms over your chest. You let the silence stretch between the two of you as you appraise him. When he continues to maintain his confused look, you sigh. It is foolish of you to think Lando will be honest. Honesty has no place for a marriage such as the one you will have with him.

“Okay,” you say simply. You tap your fingers against the table, a quick three beat tune before you give him a singular nod. “Let me know when and where to show up for our wedding. I’m impartial to a courthouse wedding but,” and you shrug, “It’s up to you.”

He straightens up. There’s a predatory stillness to him. “That’s it?”

You reach for your bag. He’s rented out the entire restaurant for the two of you so you’re sure the wait staff are being paid an exorbitant wage today. But it won’t hurt to leave a good impression in case you find yourself back here. You peruse your wallet, thankful you remembered to bring cash with you. “Yeah. Sorry to waste your time.” You’re perfunctory if not a little clipped with your response.

You think you’ll grab some lunch on the way back. The parfait, while good, only served to whet your appetite.

“Hold on.”

You can’t help but glance at your watch but you wait patiently as he gathers his thoughts.

“Why go through all this fuss?” Lando twirls his finger. “If you are leaving within—“ He looks at his watch and clicks his tongue, “Ten minutes?”

“I’ve been here for half an hour,” you remind him coolly. He winces but still offers no excuses nor an explanation for his lateness, so you steamroll ahead. “And if you’re willing to lie to me about something we both know is true,” you spread your hands out helplessly, “Then why bother with this? I’m sure my parents told you they set this up to appease me and you know what? Consider me appeased.”

He mouths appeased silently to himself. “You’re mad because you think I lied?” he clarifies, furrowing his brows.

“I’m mad because you are lying,” you correct icily.

“You really think I’d lay all my cards on the table so easily?”

“A file is all your cards?” you challenge.

His jaw locks. “No.”

You decide to cut him some slack. You dig through your purse and produce a folded stack of papers. Your parents were able to pull a sizable amount of information on Lando. It is supposed to remain confidential but this is your future marriage after all. You will be the one dealing with the Norris’, and Lando in particular, not them. You were rereading them up until you ordered and you presume Lando was doing the same given how last second this meeting is.

“I don’t want there to be an uneven playing field,” you say, waving the papers. “I want us to have a clean start.” Then you grimace. “As clean of a start as we can,” you amend.

He eyes the manilla folder. It’s fairly thick and you’re sure your color-coded tabbing only makes it more enticing. Lando kisses his teeth before reaching into his own backpack and pulling out a file. It’s much slimmer than the one you have on him.

You itch to reach over and take it but you restrain yourself. Placing your elbows over Lando’s file, you balance your head on one of your hands, mirroring his earlier lackadaisical pose. “So, is orange really your favorite color?”

“They have that in your file?”

He’s torn between being impressed and incredulous. It makes you wonder what they’ve managed to find on you.

You pull out a photo from your file. Flipping it over, you show him at a random dinner a couple weeks ago. You still don’t know how Xavier managed an invite to such a close-knit dinner but you suppose it’s best to not ask questions. “No. You just wear a lot of orange.”

He tries to snatch the photo out of your grasp but you quickly tuck it back into its place. “You have pictures of me?”

“I’ll show you mind if you show me yours.”

He rewards you with a laugh. “Yeah, s’fair.”

You pass over some of your photos and Lando does the same. You’re mildly terrified of how many Lando hands to you but he does not share the same reservations.

Lando flips through the photos. He keeps his expression neutral, betraying nothing as he sees how he’s been tailed without his knowledge.

“Do you have a favorite?”

You take a second too long to answer. “…Yes.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth but you refuse to let him embarrass you. “Do you have one?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he mocks. Without needing to sort through your pile, he reaches over and takes the one off the top. He places it flat down in front of you, waggling his eyebrows as he does so.

You motion for him to hand you the ones he’s holding and he obliges. It takes a short amount of time even with your feigned studying of the pictures to pick one out.

All of them vary in degrees of how off guard Lando looks but this one in particular looks as if it is any run of the mill day for him. He’s laughing, fingers digging into his friend’s arm for balance. His eyes are crinkled and there’s a lightness to him that seems as if it’s attached to him at all times.

You swallow. Heat begins to collect underneath your cheeks. You hope Lando does not realize how much this photo flays you open.

You slide across the table, face down as well, and wait for him.

“On three?” he suggests.

You can’t look at him. You’ve accidentally laid your heart on a platter and now you must let Lando decide if it’s worth devouring. “On three.”

“One…two…”

You don’t know what you were expecting but you do know it is not this.

“Oh my god,” you groan, cheeks warm for an entirely different reason now.

You’re lounging by the pool in an outfit that is appropriate when you think you’re not being photographed by a random man’s family. You’re shading your eyes with your hand, mouth in a pout as you consider someone in the distance. Odds are, you were arguing with your friend Hiba about something stupid.

However, discomfort soon replaces the embarrassment seeping into your skin as you make a mental check of when you last hung out with Hiba by the pool. That had been…months ago. Your parents had made it seem as if this arrangement was a recent idea and not one they’ve been concocting for months.

Your vision flickers for a moment as your blood rushes to your head. At least they decided against springing a surprise wedding upon you, you suppose. It can always be worse.

Lando lingers on his photo and then puts it down. “So lying is a big deal to you.” He frames it as a statement and yet, he glances up at you through his lashes. His bottom lip is tucked beneath his top teeth.

You thumb your stack of photos, hesitant to see the images that have created the baseline of Lando’s perception of you. A sharp pain flares at the corner of your thumb. Blood is smeared across the white edges of the photos. You press your tongue against the paper cut to stave off the pain. Lando follows the quick flick of your tongue.

“It can be,” you admit. You are many things but you are not unrealistic. There will be things Lando must keep from you, husband or not, for your safety and his. But you don’t think it to be too tall an ask for some modicum of honesty to be what the both of you default to. “I want to trust you. And I want you to trust me.”

“So you’ll be willing to divulge all of your family’s secrets then?” Steel underlays the playful tease in his voice.

You keep yourself from rolling your eyes but it’s a near thing. He is so dramatic. “You will be my family when we’re married.” An emotion you can’t place flits across his face. Filing it away for later, you point at him. “And you lied about something easy to disprove. I’d rather us not act like we’re strangers when I practically have a minor in Lando Norris and vice versa.”

He nibbles the granola from your yogurt. “A minor, huh? You’re that confident?”

You tilt your head. “Should I have booked a seafood restaurant instead for dinner then? I heard Mariana’s does an excellent salmon.”

“Ugh, no. They got that correct.”

You share a smile with him. The tension cracks, giving the two of you breathing room. “Look, I’m not asking for full discretion for the…unsavory parts. Just you know.” You shrug.

“A partnership,” he supplies.

You make a so-so motion with your hand. “Is that what we want to call it?”

“Well, I’m a bit of a romantic so…” His voice trails off suggestively. But the brightness in his eyes lets you know he’s mostly kidding.

You bite the bait he’s hanging so lowly in your face. Compromise is one of the commandments of marriage, right? “Oh, are you now?”

He nods slowly. He finishes off the parfait and now points the smeared spoon at you. “Just you wait.”

“Alright Romeo, let’s start with a date first,” you say, unable to keep from smiling. “I promised you that much, didn’t I?”

He slaps his hands against his thighs. “That you did. Steak wasn’t it?”

You make a face. “Boring but yes. Short notice and all.” You drop a couple bills onto the table before slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Ready to sweep me off my feet?”

“Born ready,” he drawls, standing up.

You don’t miss the flash of silver at his waist. The sweatpants don’t do a good job of hiding what’s hidden there but maybe that is the point.

He catches your wandering eye and extends a hand towards you. His fingers are callused and rough but it’s soothing to you. You’ve never known a soft touch in your life and Lando is no exception.

“I take care of what’s mine,” Lando assures you. “You won’t have to worry about a thing with me.”

His smile is all teeth.

It’s overwhelming to be the object of Lando’s desire you come to find out.

“Lando, not here,” you breathe, eyeing his closed but unlocked office door. His lips drag across your throat, open-mouthed and with a hint of teeth.

“I’m a newlywed I think I can be forgiven,” he says, rucking your dress up higher on your body. The edge of his desk digs into your thighs but you hardly notice as Lando traces his nose down your hammering pulse. “Or did you wear this—“ His fingers stop crawling around your hips when he realizes there is no scrap of fabric lying against your skin. He runs his hand over your smooth skin again as if to do a sanity check. “Oh, you’re such a tease.”

He looks up at you through heavily lidded eyes and you grin. With how voracious Lando’s appetite for you is, you didn’t think underwear was worth the chance he might ruin another pair of panties. You’re still mourning that hot pink set he ripped with his teeth.

“Didn’t feel like leaving you something to remember me by this time,” you quip, spreading your legs.

Lando groans, sliding his hand down your thigh until his fingers brush against you. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he says raggedly. He nips at your throat, the bite sharp enough to leave the imprint of teeth. The pain dissolves as the fever in your blood heightens. He soothes the faint sting with a wet kiss, apologetic and unrepentant at the same time.

He sinks two demanding fingers into you with ease. You turn your face into his bicep, trying to keep yourself from gasping too loudly. Your teeth dig into the fabric as his fingers curl up, nudging a spot inside that heats your blood to an inferno. You whimper, urging him closer. Lust clouds your senses and makes his teasing touches torturous.

He drags his thumb across your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading down your spine. The muscles in your thighs tighten and your knee hitches up to his side.

Lando huffs a laugh, blowing cool air against your sweaty skin. “Thought you didn’t want this,” he mocks.

“I changed my mind,” you say. Unbuckling his belt, you try to shove his pants down. An impatient whine accompanies you when he doesn’t make it easier for you. “Hurry up.”

He kisses his way down from your jaw to your chest, ignoring how you plead with him. His lips skate across your nipples, tongue darting out to circle them briefly before he drags that same traitorous tongue up the line of your chest.

“Stop being mean,” you whine, trying to push his head off of you.

“You like when I’m mean.” But he acquiesces, shoving down his pants.

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and your stomach twists. The smooth head rubbing against your cunt has you faltering, reminding you of where you are. You almost want to tell Lando to wait but then he’s hiking your leg over his hip as he sinks into you.

A gasp is punched out of you as he stretches you around his cock. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, instead, choosing to press himself into you even further, reaching somewhere in you you didn’t even know existed.

Lando drives into you, his pace so rough that you can hardly catch your breath.

You moan, a broken guttural sound that Lando swallows greedily.

“You don’t want the others to hear, hmm?” he whispers against your ear. His fingers trail over you, featherlight and too much on your oversensitive skin. Yet, you arch into the touch anyway.

Warmth begins to build up in your belly and you feel it down to your toes. Lando slides his hands underneath your hips and yanks you forward, forcing you to take him down to the hilt.

Tears blur your vision. Your blood pounds so loudly in your ears you no longer hear the muffled sounds of Lando’s business partners outside. A shuddering sob of Lando’s name escapes your lips.

“That’s it,” he croons. “Just like that.”

Lando rubs his thumb against your clit, synced with his thrusts. Before long, you’re tightening up and coming all over his cock.

He loses his rhythm as you whine against the sensitivity. With his chest pressed against you, you can feel all of him tense up. He jerks his hips into you shallowly one, two times before you feel the telltale warmth.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he mumbles, resting his head against your collarbone.

Lando lifts your hand and curls your fingers so he can press a kiss against your wedding ring. And you think, yeah, this is a man you can learn to love.

The two lines weren’t enough to convince you but the ‘pregnant’ staring up at you is harder to dismiss.

You still rub at your eyes, hoping once your vision clears again, you’ll see the ‘not’ that is surely hidden. You wait a few seconds until your eyes adjust and the result does not change.

An anxiety induced nausea begins to curdle the little food that is left in your stomach.

You’re pregnant.

You’ve only been married for six weeks.

There’s a knock on the door. “Babe? You okay?”

You can practically hear Lando making the mental decision not to jangle the door knob though you know it kills him not to. Instead, he leans against the door. The wood creaks underneath his weight.

Somehow, you wet your throat enough to not have your voice crack as you call out, “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

You put the pregnancy tests back into the box and shove it behind your pads underneath the sink. Carefully shutting the cabinet door, you stand up and wash your hands. Your motions are methodical as if it is someone else commandeering you to scrub at your hands and dry them on the towel.

You turn the door knob slowly, pushing the door outwards. Immediately, Lando gathers you into a hug when you step out.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

You return his hug, perhaps squeezing him a little tighter than you usually do. “I missed you, too,” you say automatically. You’re still processing the two lines and the definitive pregnant you saw. If you had taken only one test, you could have convinced yourself it was a fluke. But two tests from two completely different companies would beg to differ.

“You okay?” he repeats, pulling back so he can look at you.

You don’t know how to lie to him so you say, “Just a little nauseous, that’s all.”

His attention sharpens. “Nauseous?”

“Mm hmm.” You try to duck underneath his arm but Lando holds you back.

“Hold on,” he cautions, running a critical eye over you. “For how long?”

You rack your brain for an evasive answer that will suffice but Lando is like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“How long?” he urges. There’s something wild lurking in his eyes. It cuts a serrated edge to his voice.

You won’t look at him. “I mean,” you hedge. “A while?”

That doesn’t cut it. “How long is a while?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t keeping count!” you snap, throwing your hands up in the air.

“A couple of days? A week? Weeks?”

“Lando.”

He tries to smooth out the impatience in his expression. “My love, please humor me. I’m worried.”

You take a breath and count to ten. Running your tongue over your teeth, you try to remember the first time you felt this bone deep nausea that made you want to take your stomach out of your body. “Five days,” you say. “Now, can we go eat dinner?”

You aren’t hungry in the slightest. But a chewing Lando means there won’t be a talking Lando and you will take your wins where you can get them.

He looks like he wants to continue this frankly riveting conversation but you pout. It works more times than it does not and right now is no exception. He kisses his teeth and mutters an agonized, “You’re unfair.”

You force yourself to eat dinner. Your nausea clogs your throat, making each bite a monumental task as you try and listen to Lando recount his day. The food is heavy in your stomach, a leaden weight that you are overly conscious about.

Lando slows down in his complaints about Carlos. He puts his fork to the side of his plate. You find it hard to hold his attention for long.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Smiling tightly, you nod. Saliva pools in your mouth and you pray you’ll last the five minutes needed for Lando to finish eating. “Just been a long day.”

He doesn’t believe you but he’s always indulged you so he swiftly moves onto discussing the rest of his day. You nod at all the right places and ask him follow up questions. Lando becomes so engrossed in picking at your brain that his suspicions are temporarily set aside.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish eating and for you to make your escape, citing a much needed shower as your reason. You rinse off quickly and run through your night routine before Lando can sneak in. You examine yourself in the mirror with every conceivable angle and find your stomach looks as it always does. Your pregnancy is in its early stages but somehow, you are fearful Lando will know by simply looking at your bare stomach.

He joins you while you finish brushing your teeth. There’s a disgruntled wrinkle to his brows and if you were in the right headspace, you might ask him what’s wrong.

He leans his hip against the door frame as he watches you apply your moisturizer. The wrinkle deepens.

“You feeling okay?”

The nausea has finally settled but your nerves have not. A staticky energy buzzes underneath your skin. “Yeah.”

It has only been two hours since you found out and you don’t think you can keep this to yourself for any longer. God, you guys haven’t even discussed kids yet. Lando deserves a proper announcement but you can’t do that when you don’t know if he even wants kids this early.

But waiting will do you no favors.

“Lando,” you say. Your throat strains and you feel the pinpricks of tears beginning to fill your lash line. “I need to tell you something.”

He tips your chin up. Worry darkens his eyes when he scans your sickly face. Whatever he’s searching for he does not find given by the flex of his cheek muscle. A specific type of misery replaces his worry and it makes your stomach tangle into a knot to know you’ve put such an expression on your husband’s face. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t look like he’s keen on the answer but he smooths his hand over your jaw encouragingly. His shoulders straighten as if he wishes to brace himself.

“I’m pregnant.” The confession is clumsy on your too thick tongue.

For a moment, Lando doesn’t react. It’s as if the words have no meaning to him.

“You’re pregnant?” he breathes. Both his hands are placed against your cheeks, cupping your face gently. “You’ve taken a test?”

You nod, unable to speak. And then you hold up two fingers, hoping he understands.

“Both of them were positive?”

You nod again.

A bright grin spreads across his mouth. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to your stomach.

“You’re not…upset?” you ask in a small voice.

He’s quick to snap his attention back to you. “Why would I be upset? Are you upset?”

You bite your lip. You haven’t given it much thought despite how you’ve spent the last hour on the brink of a panic attack. You want kids, that much has always been clear to you.

But you certainly hadn’t anticipated getting pregnant only weeks into your marriage to someone who is essentially a stranger. You like Lando, and in your private moments you can admit to yourself you will come to love him for who he is, but you don’t know Lando.

“No,” you say, testing how it makes you feel. It gives weight to the indecision warring within you so you try to remedy it by following up with, “It’s overwhelming.”

He strokes your cheekbone gently. “We’ll be okay. We’re probably better off than most.”

You cut him an irritated look. Your baby will be provided for but they will also be in danger for the unforeseeable future simply because of who their parents are.

It is something you’ve always known for your kids but you thought you would have more time to prepare for it.

He frowns. “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you. Or our baby.”

“I know that. It’s just—“ You shrug helplessly. “It’s so soon, Lando. We barely know each other.”

He scoffs. “We know each other plenty. Our, uh, what did they call it?” He looks around as if the word will materialize in front of him.

“Courtship,” you offer, amused.

“Courtship! It was long. Longish,” he corrects sheepishly.

Considering how quickly both your families wish to secure this alliance, the period before your engagement was quite long. You’re reluctant to call it dating given that you and Lando knew exactly how it would end but it was a two month period you wouldn’t have been afforded if Lando hadn’t pushed for it.

He had been gracious with your hesitation, promising to go at your pace. For all of Lando’s lightheartedness, he had a maturity about him that surprised you. His patience endeared you to him and it didn’t take you long to stop pushing off the inevitable.

And now look at the two of you: married for six weeks with a baby on the way.

You think you are going to be sick and it has nothing to do with your pregnancy related nausea.

“How are you not freaking out?” You press your forehead against his shoulder.

Lando takes things on the chin. It’s something you admire and wish you could adopt into your own personality with equal finesse. Unfortunately, you are built to overthink and anticipate the worst case scenario.

“I don’t think it’s hit me yet,” he admits. “But when it does, I’ll still be just as happy. It’s me and you. We got this.”

Fear clings to you but it’s tempered by his confidence. “I’ll freak out for the both of us then.”

He laughs. The sound is pure sunshine amongst the doom and gloom you’ve held close to your chest the past few hours. “Don’t you always?”

You punch at his arm, if it can even be classified as that. He laughs again and lifts your head so he can kiss you. He’s smiling so much it’s hardly a kiss but it warms you all the same.

“Where are the pregnancy tests?” Lando asks when he pulls away.

“Behind the pads downstairs.”

His eyes widen. “That makes so much sense,” he says to himself. You look at him weirdly but he doesn’t notice. “Be right back.”

He’s out the door and down the stairs in a matter of seconds. You’d find it cute if he wasn’t literally going to go grab some sticks you peed on. But you also deprived him of finding out with you so you suppose it is cute.

You eye your box of birth control pills on the counter almost forlornly. You were supposed to start a new pack two days ago but with how severe your nausea has been, you didn’t bother taking them the last two days seeing as they would end up flushed down the toilet soon enough.

With a heavy sigh, you pick up the pack to throw it away. When your finger meets the frayed edge of the box, you pause.

You know you didn’t open this pack. You couldn’t have and yet, it pulls apart easily. Pushing the pack out of the box, your eyebrows creep to your hairline as you notice the first two days of pills are missing.

A hand disrupts your vision as Lando smoothly plucks the box out of your grasp and tosses it into the trash. You follow the box as it drops into the trash. The two punched out holes peek at you over the opened edge.

Unease knits itself across your heart. An unfamiliar tightness coils in your stomach, the sort that makes your blood curdle in your veins. Lando wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do this to you.

It would be much easier to convince yourself if a self-satisfied smile wasn’t currently curving Lando’s mouth.

“Guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

this fic is finished. there won't be a part 2. thanks!

#Lando Norris #lando Norris x reader #Lando Norris x you #Lando Norris smut #formula 1 x you #Lando Norris imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula 1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #mafia!Lando Norris #dark fic #writing: lando Norris

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rainyyynightssss · 25 days

Text

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you trying to go back home

Characters: Overblotters

Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved

"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"

Riddle Rosehearts

He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.

But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.

"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.

"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?

"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"

"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.

Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.

"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.

"I can walk back-"

"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.

You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.

"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.

"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.

Leona Kingscholar

"And?"

The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.

You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.

"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.

Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.

"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head. Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.

"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.

"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.

"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.

"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.

"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.

"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"

"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."

"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.

"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.

"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.

"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.

He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.

"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.

He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.

Jamil Viper

"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.

He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.

He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"

"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.

He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.

"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.

"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.

"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.

"You'll be staying here, won't you?"

Vil Schoenheit

He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.

"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.

"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.

"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.

"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.

"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.

"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."

"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.

"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.

"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.

"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.

"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.

"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.

Idia Shroud

"Hold up, what?"

Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.

"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.

"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.

He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?

"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.

"Everything I have here?" You ask.

"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.

"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.

"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.

"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.

"No, it's not like-"

"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.

"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"

"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.

"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.

"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.

"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.

"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.

"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.

"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.

"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.

"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.

"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.

"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.

"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.

"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.

"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.

958 notes · View notes

nogodsnomorales · 11 months

Text

Know that I am going to get pretty serious here, as this post is about Punkflower. I am going to talk about the age situation, the blatant racism ABOUT this ship, and to also talk about the ship itself*. There is also some talk about the shippers/non-shippers + Punkflower antis in general.

[*nothing negative! just like.. discussing it as a whole, because everybody needs to be aware of some important things. the shippers, non-shippers/people on neutral ground, AND the haters/antis.]

There is a BIG wall of text incoming, but all of it is organized to its very best at what I could do!! I first wrote this in docs, I did my best to make it not a whole chaotic mess to read through. It's a big post, but there's a lot of spacing and some text is coloured, so it will be very easy to read.

This is a very detailed and THROUGH post, so it is slightly recommended to read on computer for the best viewing experience.

[It's not needed as you can still just read on your phone/etc, I do want you lovely people to have the best viewing experience possible.]

There will be an expand button, so I will not clog your feed and the tags.

TDLR;

Dear punkflower shippers,

your prayers have been ANSWERED. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT SHIPPING PUNKFLOWER NOW 🙏

punkflower shippers, do not live in fear no more, for I am here now.

Sincerely,

tumblr user: godunforgiving

Edited Note (06/21); FYI, I am muting this! Read the edit change log at the end of this post for more information. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

punkflower talk/analysis(?) + talking about Hobie’s age

This entire post is a discussion of various things, of my own thoughts and opinions! Some of the talk is about the posts + comments I have seen other people say about this ship [mainly questioning and worried ones.] All of the pieces of information that I knew were scattered, so I wanted to gather all of what I could find, and put it in a singular post for those still worrying.

[Also where others can actually just refer to this post and just read thru here first, instead of having to spend a lot of time going through the Punkflower tag to desperately find info!]

I would have gotten this finished and posted days ago, but you know, usual IRL things slowed me down, and I had to spend my day in the ER yesterday, lol.. I’m okay as of now! Just have to take it easy, but I really did want to finish writing my ass off with this post, since I know it’s important to me and for many others out there.

Take your time to read through this, and please absolutely feel free to add any of your input/extra knowledge/anything that I should add onto this post. DMs can be the best, or just through the comments can suffice, because I can and will edit anything into this post [that is accurate aka there is backed up evidence/sources to go along with it.] If you do want to see something added here, just tell me and I'll see if I can manage!

I genuinely hope that this post can be helpful to you, as it will be helpful for me!

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Please know that; I will directly quote from many people, as all of them will be credited properly by being mentioned down below and leaving their username (that is linked back) with their respective quotes, because their own pieces of text really helped build this post! I cannot thank each person enough.

Do not be a piece of shit and go after or ‘witch hunt’ any of them. Respect their own privacy and being.

users mentioned (IOOA): @comfortingnightmare, @luvvnobo, @ghostspider-isms, @saltylemonade13, @artisan-is-bored, @bellamer, @uglynavel, @peachypea0ny (fyi, site is not allowing me to tag), @crownecromancer, @raspberryjars, @spideyzpoolsp, @hamiltonforpowerpoint

[If you are one of the mentioned people, and you want yourself to be removed or become anonymous, please let me know ASAP!]

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Notes:

If you are colourblind (some of the text is coloured fyi! colours used are blue, pink, and purple), or have difficulty reading text due to it being too small, or can't read the font, etc, please let me know! I can give you a google docs link of this entire post that is best suited for your needs. No, you will not be a burden to me. Your needs are very important, and I will want to assist with the best that I can do with that!

I, godunforgiving, am on a mix of a positive + neutral ground on the topic of shipping Punkflower. I absolutely adore the comic!Punkflower, and I am fond of ATSV!Punkflower with the way I view it. Reason why I said neutral, know that I am not against the ships by any means!! But I guess why I say that is because there wasn’t a lot of canon media to consume [ATSV!Punkflower], and I want more [Also note that I have NOT seen the movie yet.] I don’t usually ‘do’ shipping when it comes to various franchises, I guess it’s mainly just not my thing? But I do know that I’ve come to like Punkflower.

I do not ‘do’ discourses, nor do I intend to actively join them! This is my first time doing something like this / this being my first ‘discourse’, yet I hope for it to be my last. I made this post with the pure intention to help the Punkflower shippers. Do know that!! I know that many people do not like the topic of discourses, but this one and the problems I’ve seen revolving around Punkflower, I just have to say something. Bc idk if anybody else is going to [with the way I did this post], considering the mess that occurred days ago, but someone has to and has to do it properly.

I am autistic, so I may process words + information differently, or even ‘incorrectly’. So if a sentence doesn’t make sense, due to perhaps my misuse of grammar, etc, please do not hesitate to ask/reach out, and I can do my best to re-explain it to you.

Negative comments [and comments directly to this post where the person is actually spreading misinfo], will be deleted. Know that if you decide that you disagree with this post, then okay! I am not bothering you, just as I hope that you will revert to ignoring me, instead of hating on me. Please have the common decency to just be kind or even don’t say anything at all, and carry on with your day.

If you have any concerns regarding this post, do not hesitate to reach out to me.

this post was originally inspired by a friend, then originally created for @feuille-morte, but it is finished for the rest of the punkflower fans, ily all. take care of yourselves!! anything for these cute silly little guys ok (and the entire punkflower nation)

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let’s get started with an introduction.

“what is Punkflower?”

Punkflower is a slash [aka queer] relationship between two black male teenagers, Hobie Brown and Miles Morales. Usually, it is perceived a romantic relationship, as some other people only see the pairing as a platonic duo and such. I do not know more forms of Punkflower, but I will use the 'main' two forms in this post. Comic![SG!]Punkflower [SG is Spider-Geddon, a comic series first released on Sept 2018], and Across the Spider-Verse aka ATSV!Punkflower.

Think of it as the same ships with the same characters, but in different fonts.

Comic!SG!Punkflower has existed for nearly 5 years now, likely first existing sometime in late 2018 to early-mid 2019. Both Miles and Hobie are very close in age in the comics, at around 16 to 17 years old. Away from Spider-Geddon(?), but still on the topic of comics, Hobie is still 16-17 in the comics.

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“people are saying Punkflower is a problematic ship!”

The main [and probably only] source of this misinformation, is from a clip that was cropped to be posted with the intention of spreading heavy misinformation (We will get into that next.) So, as far as I am aware, and know; Punkflower antis are throwing around p/do allegations, because they hate the ship and they are outraged with people enjoying it. This hate is clearly rooted with racism, and homophobia. So, no, Punkflower is not a minor x adult ship!

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“the interview talk, what happened, and what is actually real?”

If you’ve watched the interview, you can easily see that they were talking about the brainstorming process of developing Hobie's early ideas for his character. A director mentioned that in the early concept stage, Hobie was originally going to be 19-20 [This wasn’t even our Hobie, but Prowler Hobie.]

A person cut a very small clip of the mentioned interview, and uploaded it, a clip that was EXTREMELY out of context.

The uploader cut out the part explaining that Hobie’s ‘original’ age had changed as his character was being developed.

So from this, and no context given, a lot of people were instantly quick to hate; since it was on purpose to make the entire ship, AND those who enjoyed the ship, look extremely bad. What happened was not okay, yet this disgusting behaviour is at an attempt to be justified [and those people are trying to justify literal racism and homophobia.]

“19-20 thing that the directors mentioned were Hobie’s early designs ideas but those eventually changed as his character changed. Even one of the directors said its up to interpretation plus even his VA was all hinty towards Gwen and hobie so honestly its up to you what his age is" - comfortingnightmare

As soon as the clip came out, I had started to see a number of people saying that, apparently, Hobie looked like he was in his 20s to his 30s** (while also throwing subtle/discreet hits towards the Punkflower ship), but this was after the clip came out.

**Literally saw someone on Tumblr say that he looked like 28, and trying to shut down the idea of Hobie being a teenager. Like be completely serious with me right now..

Things don’t quite add up here. This was because of WHAT Hobie only looked like, and now it just has to be racially motivated, as there are no solid explanations or reasonings for their behaviour and disgust. Those people just look bad [as they should.]

So, no, Hobie is not 19-20. Another director had confirmed that Hobie’s age is UP TO INTERPRETATION.

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[TLDR; The interview got taken completely out of context from a clip that made people start throwing SERIOUS accusations left and right.. Since more people actually later found out that the clip was taken out of context [instead of doing research], the situation died down, but people are walking on eggshells now. The haters were being desperate likely because Punkflower is a black queer/mlm relationship, since there is no solid explanation for this hating.]

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“So.. what can we interpret Hobie’s age as?”

That is where I come in! I have many reasons that can help you decide what Hobie's age is to you. And those many reasons are speculated on Hobie's age being 16-17, as many users already guess that Hobie's age is equivalent to a teenager's age. I also believe this idea, as there are many things that already support this thought process.

[But if you like.. (god, I hope nobody does) go through this list and conclude that Hobie is 18+ and continue to ship that Hobie and 15 yr old Miles (or any of the minors).. GTFOH.]

1. Hobie Brown in other media (I’m talking about the comics for instance) is commonly shown for Hobie to be a teenager at either 16 or 17 years old.

“Hobie is in fact labeled as ‘badmouthed teenager’ since 2014 and is 16-17 in the comics and that just because he doesnt have a confirmed/canonical age in ATSV, hes still in the age range of a teenager (16-18)" - luvvnobo

2. Topic of the spider-bite.

ATSV!Hobie is likely to be 16-17 years old (18 at the latest), meaning that he would have been bit at the ages of 13-15. So IF Hobie was bit 3 years ago / at 14 years old, then he would be 16-17.

Realistically, this really could have happened, considering Hobie’s living conditions! [aka what led to Hobie getting bit by a radioactive spider in the comics.] If he indeed gets bit at 14 years old (like how Miles and Gwen got bit at that age for example), then either 16 or 17 yrs old.

Again, with how he lived; if he got bit at 13 = 15-16 years old in crrnt events of ATSV. [If you don’t know of Hobie’s conditions, in the comics I’m pretty sure he, like, basically lived on the streets as a homeless teenager]

“During the "Spider-Verse" storyline, the Earth-138 version of Spider-Man is revealed to be Hobart Brown, originally operating as Spider-Punk. He is a homeless teenager who was transformed by a spider that was irradiated as part of President Norman Osborn's toxic waste dumping.” - Spider-Punk: Wikipedia

The topic of the bite / needing to know if Hobie was (x) age when he got bit, isn’t very serious, as he is already grouped with 3 kids.

3. It would be unlikely (and also weird) for a four man crew to be 3/4 teenagers and 1 adult;

WHILE ALSO implying that the mentioned ‘adult’ and one of the mentioned teenagers could’ve had something going on. [Even if nothing really happened (keyword = implying), and how Pavitr treated it in that way, implies that Hobie isn’t that much older than the three.] [I would have kept this reason combined with the Spider bite topic aka reason No.2, since it’s actually referenced off of pastelnightgale’s post, just that this paragraph alone is solid enough as a separate reason.]

4. Hobie’s mannerisms.

Note, I haven’t seen the movie, but I have seen many clips. From those clips, he’s definitely a teenager at least, it made me feel like Hobie was 16 or 17 years old. I’ve asked two of my brothers; they said that he definitely was their age [both being 17.]

“my two cents on the age debate is like. hobie doesn’t have the vibes of an adult even if his age is up to “interpretation”. like i’m eighteen and bro has definitely gotta be younger than that. he makes my “stupid younger sibling” sense go haywire." - ghostspider-isms

5. If you look up “how old is hobie brown”

You will already see many people speculating that Hobie is likely to be around the same age range as Miles and Gwen [if not a bit older.]

Again, Hobie is already 16-17 years old in the comics.

“in the spiderverse, we have seen that it is common for most spiders (gwen and miles specifically) to get bitten around 14. hobie states he’s been spider-man for three years, meaning he’s most likely 16-17." - artisan-is-bored

6. “Like if Hobie is really 19+ then why is it only a problem with Punkflower?? Wouldn’t the whole love triangle thing be a problem????" - saltylemonade13

Yes. It would be a SERIOUS problem. It also would make the other ships [Chaipunk, others with minors in them] very problematic and illegal ships. But Hobie isn't 18+.

7. Ageing down process happening to various characters in Spider Verse, and Hobie non affected?

If Gwen and the other spiders are aged down in Spiderverse, then it doesn’t make sense that Hobie was not aged down like the others.

8. Hobie literally hangs out around teenagers.

If an adult is constantly hanging out with other children, then that obviously would be the first problem. I wouldn’t really need to keep talking any more about this one. Because if a 19-20 year old was spending a majority of his time around young teenagers, ages ranging 15 through 17, and not really with anybody else his age or above, then yes, that’s already weird.

“it’s also implied that miles is jealous of gwen and hobie. why would the directors make a key plot point of the story be that hobie is a grown ass man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers? and that he might have a thing with one of them???" - artisan-is-bored

9. Genetics do not matter within age.

This is one of my most common quotes by now. Hobie is indeed very tall at almost 6 ft, yes. No, it does not mean that he is above 18+ years old. Hobie can be over 6 ft tall and still be 16-17 years old.

I have seen so many teenagers at drastically different heights, but still be the same age. Many of them being over 6 ft [180 cm], and still being in my age range, and having met a 5’10” 8th grader [aka 13 yrs old] years ago. Both of my previously-mentioned brothers are 6 ft and over 6 ft, yet they are only 17.

“people can look one age and be another." - artisan-is-bored

“hobie’s description as a character. hobie is a foul mouthed TEENAGER. that has been his description for the past five years." - artisan-is-bored

10. “how do i tell them Punkflower has been a thing since 2018 or 2019 and they have interacted in the comics (they are close in age)" - luvvnobo

11. “He has to be an adult, because he goes to pubs!!” Let’s be absolutely HONEST here.

“dude is BFF’s with the Riri of his universe, she can probably whip up a fake ID in no time and even if Riri isn’t in the Spiderverse, he still gets around and knows people. he’s definitely cool with someone who makes fake ID’s." - bellamer

What bellamer said. To add onto this, a pub is different from a BAR as well.

If you look up “what is a pub vs bar” your first result will be this.

To also add, all bars in England aren’t considered pubs.

“If you’re 16 or under, you may be able to go to a pub (or premises primarily used to sell alcohol) if you’re accompanied by an adult. However, this isn’t always the case. It can also depend on the specific conditions for that premises. It’s illegal to give alcohol to children under 5." From the official GOV of the UK website

But literally, let’s be honest here, Hobie would already know at least one person who will help him get in a pub, if he cannot do so himself. If Hobie is constantly going to pubs, then that does not mean he is getting drinks 24/7 when he is there, unless stated otherwise. Pubs focus on serving food and to give drinks [upon request] to go along with the meal.

Before 1995, children under the age of 14 were NOT allowed in pubs in England and Wales. And Hobie is definitely by no means 14. He is likely 16, or 17. He can already drink, with adult supervision, at 16 in pubs. But we know that Hobie is no law-abiding Spider-man.

12. “Hobie wouldn’t be able to own his own place!”

“it’s a key part of hobie’s comic backstory that he used to be homeless. once again, the breaking the law point still stands. wouldn’t be surprised if hobie bought an apartment with a fake ID, was squatting, or was staying in some sort equivalent of the community center that he used as his main group’s operation headquarters in the comics.” - artisan-is-bored

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I do not think that another director/anybody who worked on the movie will come out and say that Hobie is actually 18+ at this point. I CAN be wrong in the future, but right now, he is not, and there are my reasons for why I strongly agree with the idea of Hobie being a teenager.

ALTHOUGH, even IF a director comes out and says that ATSV!Hobie is actually 18+, obviously all of the ATSV!ships with him and the other minors should STOP RIGHT NOW. But as of now [06/13/23 (when I first wrote this)], and from what we already know, I do not see anything wrong with ATSV!Punkflower and my views.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

The racism revolving Punkflower is disgusting.

I’ve seen a lot of people bashing Punkflower when the whole misinfo-hobie-being-19/20-situation occurred, but ONLY with Punkflower [from what I’ve seen.] I didn’t see any of this happening to the other ships that Hobie is in / shipped with Gwen, and Pavitr.

I have not seen any, quite literally nobody, complaining about any other ship that isn’t Punkflower, and it’s insanely overwhelming and confusing?? People don’t complain when it comes to Hobie x Gwen, but if it’s with two queer black boys? Huge problem all of a sudden.

“Love how when it was Hobie and Gwen no one batted an eye but as soon as people started shipping two black males together all of a sudden everyone’s disgusted and outraged” - uglynavel

“none of y’all had a problem w gwen and hobie, but when hobie started getting shipped with miles and pav? y’all got pissed. get your racist and homophobic head out of your ass. even if hobie IS an adult in the movie, that still doesn’t mean that shipping him with miles in the comics suddenly isn’t valid. newsflash, gwen is MUCH OLDER than hobie in his universe.” - artisan-is-bored

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Other quotes, that I wanted to point out, but I didn’t sort them into a spot;

“There are a lot more weird problems in the ATSV fandom, yet people are worried about Flowerpunk and whether Hobie is of age, or not. Those problems are full on grown ass people sexualizing Miles, Gwen, and likely more. There’s already stuff about Peter B. and Miles ship, and THAT is an active problem on hand. More people need to worry about all of that instead of a guy who has an up-to-interpretation age (but is strongly, likely, a 16-17 year old if not an adult.)” - peachypea0ny

“I can’t even enjoy comic versions of punkflower without me being called a pedo or having multiple fucking comments telling me over and over that punkflower is a proship.” - uglynavel

“I’m sorry it’s just really not fucking fair what In THE ACTUAL MOVIE it can imply something between Gwen and Hobie but the SECOND people started shipping two black boys together then it became a huge fucking problem, here’s the thing if Hobie is actually older and they never say that in the movie but imply something to the audience that him and a sixteen year old girl could possibly have something between them THEN THATS GROSS I DONT CARE HOW GOOD THE MOVIE IS! But Hobie is always, in other crossovers and his comics he is around 16, he has met Miles before in canon the ship’s not new, it was just small.” - crownecromancer (Edited to make sense, by me, godunforgiving.)

“punkflower is originally a comic ship, its been around for ages before atsv, its normal for shippers to crossover into different areas where the same characters are. he doesnt have an age on his wiki and why would he be said to have a love triangle with gwen if he WAS 19/20, idk why ppl have such a problem with punkflower but not with hobie and gwen??” - raspberryjars

“this is what happens when you believe in misinformation on the internet. no, there is no age gap, because hobie does not even have a canon age. if you watch the interview, instead of 10 seconds of it, he says it was early concepts of hobie. another director has confirmed his age is up to interpretation.. so. yall rlly need to stop with this, its weird asl. this whole thing was rooted in racism and homophobia, stop spreading misinformation I BEG.” - spideyzpoolsp

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Another disclaimer/notice;

PLEASE, PLEASE STOP BELIEVING IN EVERYTHING THAT YOU SEE!! EVEN IN TIKTOK OR TUMBLR!

IF it’s a piece of information that could be misinformation revolving around Punkflower or Hobie Brown, or anything, DO find out if it is real or fake asap!

I’m using a method that I remember from my elementary school that was constantly talked about [can’t believe I’d bring it up in a post about a ship years later], however it really does pay out and work anywhere else tbh. The “Stop, Think, Act method”.

STOP = Pause, if it distresses you; then take a breath to calm down, avoid doing anything on impulse aka don't do anything without thinking carefully beforehand.

THINK = Instead of the “what is the problem, what are the options, best path forward?” in the method itself, we will reuse this but change stuff up that can apply directly to this post. So after stopping and calming down, we will think carefully and review what we already KNOW. If it’s where the piece of information is easily seen/known as misinfo, then you are good. If the piece of misinfo is affecting something that we already know, then we move onto the next step.

ACT = “Proceed with the best option. Act carefully, and revise if needed.” The best option forward from thinking, is to do research, and make sure that it is actually real, and not misinformation with lies laced within. IF it is indeed misinformation, then it is the best to alert others, with proof.

If you are thinking “But why even mention that method??” The best example to use this method is with the age discourse blowup. A LOT of people believed in the misinformation very, very fast. What should’ve happened is that the mentioned method should’ve occurred early, to help prevent most of the freak out and its damages. But many users may not have thought of that, or even know the method, so it is okay. At least it calmed down a lot as of now, just that people are now likely afraid.

[Note; I am NOT blaming anybody!! I also freaked out a bit too, but I stuck to what I already knew, until I found more information. At first I heard “Hobie is 19-20!!!!” I figured that it must’ve been misinfo through what I already knew, because adding all of what I knew and this uproar of info, it just didn’t add up from what I alrd knew. but I still researched and did my homework!! Just that more people should naturally second-guess things that they are suspicious of and also be aware of that method and to apply it online, as it is already useful in real life!]

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Wrapping this post up, finally.

It’s sad to see different Punkflower fans fight each other. But it’s also outrageous and annoying to see the plat!Punkflower shippers, who see Miles and Hobie strictly in a brotherly relationship, to throw the term ‘!ncest / pseudo-!ncest’ against the romantical Punkflower shippers.. Like holy shit, that doesn’t make you any better. Can people, please, stop throwing serious accusations against other people so nonchalantly?

These accusations are SO serious and life changing, even if it's pointed at the wrong person. But people are just too ignorant to realize that unfortunately.

“You see him (Hobie) as 19/20 who’s a big brother to the other spiders? Cool! You see him as 16/17 rebel teen amazing!” - hamiltonforpowerpoint

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

End post.

Reblogs, likes, and comments of your own opinions of this post are so welcome!

Again, ily all and take care of yourselves!!

and again, if anything you think that should be added onto the post, let me know! have a great day everybody

A friend asked what’s up with the discourse, asked me to make a post, after hours of research - I absolutely fucking DELIVERED. Love you guys.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Edit #1 (06/15); had to reformat some things since it just looked broken to me! Using the editor on mobile is a PAIN.. 0/10.

Edit #2 (06/16); an edit update! I rewrote some things (to hope to make the post sound more better), added some stuff in the notes section and some throughout the post itself, updated the crediting so the quotes used are credited and linked back to hell!!!! bc crediting others is awesome! and the post is also def over 4.2k words lol

Edit #3 (06/17); An anon told me that I was “misusing” the 'proship' term, so I edited the post. Proshitters can go to hell for all I care. To clarify, I am talking about problematic shippers. Edit #4 (06/19); oh my god 600+ notes?? i hope all of you are having an EXCELLENT month okay.. i love you guys <3 /plat

Edit #5 (06/21); I am muting this! I saw some people reply to this post, but I just do not have the ability to respond to them (Selective mutism), I did write “drafts” to them, but I do not feel like polishing it and responding. Just busy with other things, honestly! I may end up responding some time later, so yeah. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

Every once a few weeks I may check up on this post as well, until I stop altogether.

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scribblesofagoonerr · 3 months

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All that I ask is that you stay with me | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, A - All that I ask is that you stay with me

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

This is some angst that I thought to write because, well, life's been hard recently and I need a creative outlet to get my emotions out on paper and well, this is the result.

It might not be great and it's not been proof-read at all, so uh, yeah... Let me know what you all think but please be kind :)

And if any of you have any ideas of things to write, I'm open to write anything, within reason of course. My asks are open so feel free to drop anything in there :)

The battle with your inner demons are hard. You sometimes wonder if it's better to leave the world, making the decision without the realisation of how loved you are by the team of girls around you.

TW: heavy angst, SH, MH and talks of suicide and death.

"Y/N are you in there? Hurry up, we're about to start the film" The loud voice of Katie shouts aloud from the other side of the closed bathroom door to alert you of your attention.

You were joined by the girls in a classic team bonding night, a good ol' fashioned film to watch with some sugary treats, curtousy of it being a cheat day.

You are always so excited to spend time with the older girls, you all looked up with some much respect, being a part of the team for a while, you'd grown to love the girls like your own family.

Despite how well you fitted in at the club and how amazing you played football, there would always be people to put you down.

And in this case, it was in the forms of social media.

The internet could be a cruel place sometimes.

"Ye... Yeah, alright. J... Just a minute, I'll be right out" You shakily reply as you held the blade out in front of you while it stared back at you, almost like it was almost taunting you to use it.

Old habits are easy to break, you should have knew that.

It wasn't long before you were slumped on the bathroom floor as you watched the crimson liquid trickle down your arms. It felt like a rush of instant relief to the pain that you currently indured.

One small cut to take away the pain, you thought it would be okay.

Two cuts, you just wanted to chase the rush of the first.

Three, four and five, you realise you may have messed up.

You were doing so well, you had been on the right path to get help. that was needed. You had been clean for a numerous amount of days and just in that instant, the snap of a finger and all of that progress, had just been so easy to unwravle again.

You found it so easy to take a hold of the blade in your hand, press it against your wrist and pierce the skin.

It was a feeling of euphoria that you hadn't felt in a while, it was something that was needed.

The cuts were deep, too deep that even with added pressure, they wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Is this the end now?" You had to question yourself as your eyelids felt heavy, you were so tired and you didn't have it in you to fight anymore.

Was it really that easy to leave a world full of heartache and pain?

Maybe so,

At least you had thought that as you hear the sudden loud bang of the bathroom flying open and clashing against the wall.

"Y/N!" It was Leah's shrill voice that screams out in a panic, her eyes widened in fear as she stares at you. "Y/N, can you hear me?!" she questions with a a quiver in her tone.

"L... Le" You slur her name as you look at the blonde as you can feel yourself slipping into a state of unconciousness.

"Stay awake, Y/N. You have too-- Girls, help!" Leah continues to shout aloud for any of the girls to hear. " You hear me, Y/N? You have to stay awake" she pleads as her tears threaten to spill.

"S' okay, Le. L... Let me go. It's time" You tell her quietly as your eyes flutter between being open and shut.

"No, Y/N. You can't give up... You can't" Leah cries openly, the tears at bay have now escaped. "Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, please" she adds, her voice becomes louder as hot tears roll down her cheeks.

The rest of the girls all heard Leah's panicked voice and dart in the direction of the bathroom, each of them gasping in shock to find you slumped on the floor.

"Shit-- Y/N" Beths' eyes widen in fear and panic as she takes in the scene in front of her.

"What happened?" Viv questions, alarmed by the sight.

"S... She's hurt herself" Leahs' panicked voice speaks aloud while she's crouched down on the floor and pressing a towel against your wrists to try and soak up the blood. "I... I can't get the bleeding to stop" she tells them.

"Somebody call an ambulance, quick" Katie states as she joins Leah's side to kneel down and try to help in way that she can.

Her usual joking manner has suddenly turned into fearful and that's when the girls all knew this was serious.

"I'm on it" Jen agrees as fishes her phone out of her pocket, dialing 999 and waiting for an answer on the other side. "I need an ambulance, as soon as possible. It's urgent! My team mates' hurt herself and is in and out of unconciousness" the scots' woman speaks aloud,

"Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, keep your eyes open please" Leah pleads as she continues to hold the now blood-soaked towl against your skin, her own tears freely spilling down her cheeks as you daze in and out of sleep.

"W... Why would she do this to herself" Steph questions concerned as she glances at you, heartbroken it had come to this.

"I don't know, she was... she was doing better" Lia spoke out, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to keep her own emotions in check.

"At least, we thought she was" Beth mumbles as she struggles to take her eyes off your unconcious body.

"She'll be okay, she has to be" Caitlin adds in with vulnerability in her voice that wasn't usually shown to anyone, other than you.

You were the baby of the team, all of the girls were overprotective of you ever since you joined. It wasn't a secret that you had them all virtually wrapped around your pinky finger.

All the girls knew it was hard for you, you had a lot of expectation to live up to and knew that eventually, the pressure would be too much for you and you would break.

They were all there the last time, they saw the good, the bad and the damn right ugly and vowed to not let it happen again.

But, old habits are easy to break, right?

"Ambulance is on it's way. It won't be long" Jen tells the girls.

"I'm going with her" Leah was quick to say. A tone in her voice which the rest of the girls knew to not object against.

You were close with the girls but compared to them, Leah was pretty much your second-mum, older sister figure all rolled into one and she was the one that you always came to when it got tough.

Why didn't you just speak to her? Then maybe things could be different.

"We'll follow you to the hospital" Kim replies to the blonde and the rest of the girls all nod in agreement, they would always be there for you at a time when you most needed it.

They were your family, and family never turned their back on another.

#arsenal x reader #woso x reader #arsenal women x reader #leah williamson #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #heavy angst #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 11 months

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DESSERT

A/N: idk why im so obsessed with pregnancy fics lately, maybe i should check in on my cycle lmao

WORD COUNT: 1k

PAIRING: CEO!Harry x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY: Harry gets hit on at an event, but the woman fails terribly, because he only has eyes for his pregnant girlfriend who is busy by the buffet table.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Another waiter offers Harry some champagne, but he respectfully rejects and keeps sipping on his water. His gaze trails over the crowd of guests, the room is full of influential people from all kinds of businesses, people Harry should definitely be mingling with, making connections, but he is trying to find one particular person.

From across the room, a tall, blonde woman spots the lonely millionaire and a devious smile curls up her red lips. A predator-like look takes over her eyes, but she moves like a gazelle as she crosses the room, heading straight over to Harry, determined to seduce him at all cost.

“You don’t fancy the cocktails?” she asks him. He looks at her with a respectful smile and nod.

“Not… Not tonight.”

“You looked awfully lonely over here. Thought I would introduce myself, I’m Savannah, it’s nice to meet you.”

She holds out a perfectly manicured hand that he shakes lightly.

“I’m Harry.”

“Harry Styles, owner of Styles Industries, right?” The smirk on her face tells him she knows exactly who he is, the introductions wasn’t needed.

“Yeah,” he nods anyway.

“I feel lucky I found you alone, I think it might be a sign that we should get to know each other more.”

She pushes closer to him, brushing a hand down his arm and she blatantly ignores the way he takes a step back. She is too driven to get what she wants to notice the signs.

“This night has been nice, but I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room, get rid of this tight dress and relax.” The dramatic sigh she lets out gets lost somewhere between her and Harry, because he is not even looking at her, eyes scanning the guests. She notices his disinterest at last, but doesn’t give up just yet.

“You know, it can get a bit lonely at events like this for a single woman. I wish I had—“

“Excuse me,” Harry cuts her off when he finally sees the person he’s been trying to find.

As he walks away, Savannah’s jaw drops to the floor, no one has ever rejected her the way he just did, but he doesn’t even notice how hurt she is. He has his eyes on the only woman he cares about in the room.

You’re standing by the buffet table, your silver gown matches his tie and it gorgeously emphasizes your round stomach that’s been Harry’s favorite thing in the past couple of months. You have a plate in your hand, all kinds of food stacked on it starting from mini burgers to steak and it seems like you’re still looking for something to add. Harry can’t hold his smile back as he watches you run your free hand down your stomach, eyes scanning over the variety of food in front of you.

God, he is so obsessed with you, has always been, but now that you’re carrying his baby it has gotten to a whole new level he never thought could be possible. But it is, you’re everything he ever wished for and cannot wait to officially become a family in just two short months.

“There you are, thought I would have to go into the ladies restroom to find you,” Harry smiles down at you as he steps closer to you, placing a hand to your lower back.

“Oh! Sorry, I got a little distracted,” you chuckle and crane your neck so he can kiss your lips shortly, as if it hasn’t been just ten minutes since he last saw you.

“S’okay. What do you have here?”

You look down at the plate and sink your teeth into your lower lip when you realize how much food you’ve piled up.

“Um, I—This is for both of us. I thought we could… share?”

He knows this was just for you and you only said it because you feel ashamed of how much you’ve been eating lately. You’ve put on quite some weight, it’s hard to say no to your cravings, especially when your boyfriend loves to spoil you with your favorites every other day.

Harry doesn’t mind the extra weight. He loves it. He loves every change in your body, let it be your cellulite on your thighs or the stretch marks on your belly. You were afraid he wouldn’t look at you the same way at you anymore once you’ve started growing and changing, that he wouldn’t want you the way he used to.

Well, he does look at you differently, but in the best way possible, he loves on you just as often as he used to, if not even more often, he tells you how beautiful you are ever chance he gets and most of the times he is having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Like right now. If only you were alone, he would move his hands to places that are only for his touch.

“Mm, you just eat all that and I’ll bring you dessert. You better feed yourself and our baby or I will do it myself.”

“I already had a big plate, shouldn’t I hold myself back?” you whisper, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.

“No. If you crave it, eat it, Love.” He kisses the top of your head and runs a hand down your stomach. He smiles when he feels a tiny kick under his touch. He takes it as a sign that he did the right thing. “See? He agrees as well,” he chuckles.

“Already teaming up to plot against me?” you sigh, but can’t hold your smile back.

“Only if it’s for your well-being.” You pout your lips at him, still not sure how you got so lucky to have him as your partner. Harry leans down and kisses the pout off your lips before reaching out to grab another plate. “So, what do you want for dessert? Macarons? Brownies? Cheesecake?”

“Exactly in that order,” you nod, making him laugh as he stacks the goods on the plate without a word.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

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gojo satoru x reader fic recs (I)

‣ now that i've got loads of free time, thought why shouldn't i use it well by showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect and attention? ^_^

‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters nor the above gif. enjoy reading! 🥰

⌀ all that is solid [series] by GrilledTandooriSmoke on ao3

one of the best series there is. period. the fluff, the angst, the drama, the humor, the romance, the friendship, the plot, the dialogues - everything is top-notch in this series, i'm telling you. bonus points for being narrated in both reader's and gojo's pov.

⌀ The King is But a Man [series] by Petrichorium on ao3 (@petrichorium on tumblr)

royal!gojo who's terribly in love with the reader x reader who's equally (but way more discreetly) in love with gojo. add to that, the trope of childhood sweethearts reunited as adults, excellent communication between the couple and a wonderfully-crafted world and dialogues - what more could you ask from a series?

⌀ Ten to None (Soulmate AU) (oneshot) by Oreosmama on ao3

a fic which i adore with every fibre of my being. i will not say anything more about this, except to request you to go read this. you'll love it. (especially the fantabulous ending. btw, did i already say how much i'm in love with how well-written this fic is?)

⌀ Scarred [oneshot] by cainis on ao3

one of the best angst-with-a-happy-ending fic there is. i wish i could give thousands of kudos for the heart-wrenchingly amazing way the author has portrayed gojo's character here.

⌀ Mother of otherness, Eat me [oneshot] by itsbaby on ao3

one of the most beautiful works i've read so far. told from yuuji's pov, it explores gojo and reader's relationship and its nuances in a way seldom done before. however, what stole the show for me, was the soft and sweet mother-son duo the reader and yuuji grow to be in this fic. i really love this one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

⌀ something sweet [oneshot] by heresan on ao3 (@pretty-toru on tumblr)

i love love love this fic. it's so fluffy, so funny, so cute, so heart-warming... just read this fic, people. you won't ever be disappointed by the dynamics reader and gojo have in this one. one of my all-time faves, tbh.

⌀ teen dad Gojo [series] by pantao on ao3 (@seravphs on tumblr)

a sweet and realistic depiction of reader and gojo being teenaged parents to young megumi, all the while they try to figure out their feelings for each other. a perfect mixture of fluff, angst, drama, slice-of-life and romance, imo. (also, the author's notes are pure gold. whatever you do, please don't miss reading them! :D)

⌀ To see those eyes I prize above mine own (twoshot) by koyama on ao3

if you wish to watch godlike!gojo willing to let go of his powers, out of guilt and immense, immense, protective love for the reader, this is the ideal fic for you. i'm in awe of the way the writer wrote gojo's complex persona and the way the sorcerer realized his feelings for the reader. (the second chapter's the cherry on the cake. it's so good!!!!)

⌀ keeping up with the fushigojos (series) by @augustinewrites on tumblr

fluff? A+; angst? A+; drama? A+; characterization & dialogues? A+; humour? A+++++. a sureshot way to end a long hectic tiring day on a happy note is to read this series. (my go-to comfort series, ngl. :])

⌀ CAT & DOG (oneshot) by @mimiriko on tumblr

an adorable fic of gojo being in love with the reader, who knows, yet doesn't really know, much about it. plus, the feline-like features of gojo are sooo cute... and this fic is sooo sweet... the story left me smiling when i finished reading it.

⌀ surely summer wasn't over yet [3 chapters] by 3rdgymbros on ao3

an amazing fic set against the backdrop of the hidden inventory arc. the portrayal of the characters and their dynamics is simply impeccable. despite my kind-of-dislike towards this particular arc of the manga, i really enjoyed reading this one.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #kit's fic recs 📚

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palajae · 6 months

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it’s just…

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE... figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love? | WC... 0.6k | “it’s just what?”

“congratulations on another wonderful performance and win! you guys have been dominating the couples skate for years now even though you’re still so young, how do you feel?”

your partner’s arm around you tightens a bit as he stares into the camera, leaning into the mic. the sweat fresh from coming off the ice gleams on his forehead and you stare at his side profile, resisting the urge to wipe a drop running down the side of his cheek.

still breathing heavily, he manages to sport a bright grin.

“yeah, well, i think the fans will be happy. we worked really hard, and i hope the performance shows that.” he glances down at you as you smile back up at him.

“i think we’re both satisfied. i’m proud of y/n too, as always.”

your smile grows a bit at that.

you and niki had been partners for over six years now, having essentially grown up together. you think you’ve spent more time with niki on the ice than you have at home with your family.

but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

you respected him immensely, trusted him entirely, and you knew he felt the same. the fans could see it too.

it showed in every interaction, every performance. you two were naturally close and friendly, so the shipping that came along with it was expected. no one could deny your chemistry.

after the interview finishes, you and niki finish up with pictures of you with your medals. he even picks you up and spins you around as you laugh, beaming at your expression.

when you finally get a moment to rest, he ruffles your hair. “good job today. i’m proud of you.”

you shove his hand away playfully, “you worked hard too. did you want to grab some food before we get back to the hotel? i’m kinda hungry and you know-“

you glance at niki to see him typing away on his phone. you poke his cheek.

“hm? yeah?”

you cross your arms and huff as he sheepishly squeezes your side as an apology.

“i said, did you want to get some food? coach said we don’t have any more schedules, so we should be free…”

niki bites his lip. “sorry, i already have some plans. but i’ll meet you back at the hotel?”

you frown. since when did he ever not want to spend time with you?

“alright, see you later.”

you end up passing out back at the hotel and don’t see niki until the next day for practice. it goes smoothly as usual, but he seems a little off.

it’s not until your coach calls break when you nudge him, skating in circles around him like an animal surrounding their prey.

“what’s up with you?”

“what do you mean?

you raise an eyebrow, taking his hands and pulling him along. “you know what i mean, so spill.”

he sighs heavily, “i wanted to wait until we got home, but…”

“but?”

“I think i’m gonna go out with haerin.”

you stop. and slowly let go of his hands.

“oh.”

“it’s nothing serious for now,” he adds hastily, “we’re just getting to know each other.”

“no, no, of course,” you mumble while collecting your thoughts.

“it’s just-“

“its just what?” niki perks up almost immediately like he was anticipating your response with a glint in his eyes.

“nothing.” you smile flatly. “i was just surprised.”

it certainly seemed out of the blue. it wasn’t that you minded—niki could date whoever he liked. you guys were just professional partners and always had been.

but why does something feel so wrong?

a/n ▸ happy happy halloween (if you celebrate it)👻 ☺️to be continued…. hehe the rest are already planned so keep a look out ;)

part 1/4 | next.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee @who-tf-soddhi

@kflixnet

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #niki imagines #enhypen niki #establishing my nikiblr dominance lol

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bless-my-demons · 5 days

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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: does a handsy Jasper need a warning?

Notes: oh my god it’s been so long, I’ve been eating myself up over not posting. I’ve been working myself to death, but I’ve finally got a long weekend off and so I used it to get back to what makes me happy - this story! Omg I hope you guys love it🥹 I also have to go through and update my taglist later tonight, so bear with me on that until I add it!

Word Count: 1500

Series Masterlist

• April 3rd, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

Tingly.

That’s the state of my body this morning, the state of my mind.

Not only am I riding an emotional high from our conversation this weekend, but my dream last night… Good lord, that dream.

I can feel the echoes of his fingers on my skin, the coolness of his lips, the wet trail they would’ve left behind… the solid weight of what surely his body would feel like, pressed against mine. I can imagine all of what it would be like vividly, to be under him, to get carried away, to just explore-

“You alright, darlin’?”

His voice jolts me from the day dreaming stare I had on the locker before me, caught red handed. To make matters worse, that deep southern tenor questioned me inches from my ear, causing a blush to heat my cheeks to an almost uncomfortable degree.

“Perfectly fine, why?” I immediately busy myself within my locker so that I don’t have to face him right away.

“You do remember that I can feel you, right?” His voice is low and his hands find my hips tenderly, but the air changes around us.

My heart rate skyrockets, this is dangerous. His fingers flex against me and the death grip I have on this book in my hands turns my knuckles white.

“Jasper-” his name is a whispered warning, but also a plea.

“I know.” Instantly a cooling, soothing balm blankets our tension and I release the tightness in my chest. Leaning backwards into him I just feel tired all of a sudden, like I had run a marathon. “Let’s get out of here.”

His request sounds more like a demand and I twist in his arms, “Is that a good idea?”

“Darlin’, I don’t have many of those these days.” His mouth quirks up in a lopsided grin as he shoves all of my school supplies back in my locker, shutting it and tugging me along behind him towards the student parking lot.

Jasper

Something is on her mind, something dangerous. Something I absolutely want to know, something I’m not sure I have the strength for, but I can’t help it - it’s her.

I’ve never been more thankful for an overcast day with no rain: perfect motorcycle weather. Come to think of it, my sister had a knowing look in her eyes as my siblings all piled into their respective vehicles as I straddled my bike this morning. A decision that currently led me to now: Y/n and I leaving school before midday.

Those thoughts I interrupted earlier have her quiet, but her emotions are raging and it is driving me insane. Curiosity, need, nervousness - a dangerous concoction begging to overtake my rational mind. Separating myself from her feelings is almost impossible at this point, she is so well ingrained in me.

Finally arriving at my thankfully empty home, I shut my motorcycle off and offer a steady hand to help her dismount. Swinging my own leg over, I turn towards her and lean against it, observing her for a moment with crossed arms.

“What?” She makes eye contact as she struggles with the chin strap of my helmet.

Grabbing the helmet by the chin piece, I gently tug her forward between my legs, “Tell me.” I lace the command with neediness to encourage her to be pliant.

And judging by the way her lips part behind the dark visor, the immediate dilation of her eyes, and the weight of her hands settling on my thighs gently, I might’ve laid it on a little too thick.

Chuckling, I free her from my helmet and riding jacket. By the time I finish, she seems to snap from the daze and her hands clench on top of my legs.

“Not fair, Hale.” Feisty this morning.

I lean forward towards her ear with a grin as I stand from my bike to put away the gear, “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”

Reaching to swat my chest, I grab her hand gently before she could injure herself.

Pausing as I hang my jacket up, her teasing response sends excitement through me, “Two can play at that game, baby.”

Stepping into my room, I realize too late what has her curiosity: my desk. Well, the art that occupies every inch, my art.

“What is all this?” Leafing through pencil sketches of my favorite hunting spots and pen etchings of my family at random moments, she gets to the important ones hidden below. Her breathing hitches and I know she’s found them, the ones of her.

Some are in pencil, some are in random felt-tip pens, but my favorites? Those are charcoal. A decently basic medium, but I feel like it captures so much more than anything else ever could. Maybe it’s because I use my fingers to smudge and shape her perfect curves and lines, but it radiates emotion in sweeping gestures and subtle shading - something that’s hard to capture with anything else.

“There’s-” awe, shock, surprise, they all shuffle through her and I’m on edge, waiting to hear her thoughts. “There’s so many…”

I watch her carefully examine each one and I smile when she chuckles at a few - some of her at school, some of her here in my home, moments I not only committed to memory, but to paper.

“Now you know what I do with my free time.” I smile through the minuscule anxiety that bubbles up at her seeing my secret hobby. Everyone in my family knows I draw, but they haven’t seen my drawings.

“Jasper…” I can tell she’s getting emotional, but a part of me is excited for her to see my innermost thoughts on paper, to see herself through my eyes - the unaltered beauty she contains.

“You haven’t even seen the ones I cherish the most.” Opening a familiar sketchbook buried under many other drawings, I reveal my favorites. “The very first ones.”

Her breath hitches, running a reverent finger down the first page. It’s the very first moment I saw her, crouched, scooping up papers on her first day of high school in Forks - absolutely radiant.

“You were a vision that day. A beautiful tornado that wrecked my world, I tried to capture every detail from memory because I never want to forget-”

Her hand finding my cheek breaks me from my explanation and my eyes find her watery ones, mouth open, searching for words clearly hard to get out, “Jasper…”

“I love you.” My confession steals her breath completely this time, the first time I’ve uttered these words aloud and it feels absolutely right. “I’ve loved you since the moment you hit me with that door. I knew I was absolutely ruined for anyone else and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tilting her chin up with the tip of my finger as it wobbles at my confession, I smile, “Say something, darlin’.”

“I love you, too.” Now it’s my turn to go wholly still. “I knew from the moment I saw you I’d never be the same, I was yours-”

I couldn’t wait another second, I closed the minuscule gap between our mouths to seal these confessions. I love her and she loves me. Me.

Tilting her head back slightly as I cradle her, I take my cue to deepen the kiss, to pull her closer carefully. Groaning into her mouth, fuck I can’t get enough of her. Trailing kisses down her jawline as she tips her head to the side for much needed air, her gasps drive me to lift her onto my desk.

“Jaz…” her breathy plea of my nickname freezes me, panic seizing my actions.

“I am a gentleman, but only just barely.” My voice is gravel in my own ears, breathed down the slender column of her throat.

A shiver from her causes me to clench my jaw and attempt to gather myself.

“Maybe I don’t want a gentleman right now.” Her whisper damns me, it fucking sets me on fire.

A slamming door downstairs straightens my spine and my hands abandon the exploration of her. Fuck, my family’s timing couldn’t be better, but also worse.

“Honey, we’re home!” Emmett’s booming voice echoes up the stairs and immediately I know he knows, he can probably smell it.

Huffing, I help her regain her footing and straighten her clothes from the rumpled mess my hands made of it. I also take half a thought to smooth her arousal, a damn shame-but a necessity if we’re to face my siblings for the rest of the evening.

“Fucking Emmett.” Her frustration draws a chuckle from me as we make our way downstairs.

“I heard that!” My brother’s response causes her to roll her eyes at me playfully and I shake my head, my heart weighing much fuller in my chest as she plucks its invisible strings with her shit-eating grin.

Taglist part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @Cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #redamancy series #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #bless-my-demons #jasper hale #female reader insert

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nackrosor · 9 months

Text

~Midnight Healing~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)

A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm.

Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else?

Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax.

This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.

"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "

"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?"

"Wouldn't you like that!"

You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.

"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation.

"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?"

A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip.

“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”

"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."

"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."

"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."

Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips.

Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature.

Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.

“You’re a bastard.”

He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.

"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."

"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."

"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed.

"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him."

"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."

Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-"

"He's single, for all I know."

The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.

"You’re a menace ."

You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.

“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”

“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”

You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.

Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control.

“You should tell him, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”

“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”

You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread.

“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”

“You don’t know that.”

Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”

He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”

You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.

“W-what does he say?”

Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush.

"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."

“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”

“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."

You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.

Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates…

You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings...

"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."

The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”

His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm.

Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…

The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body?

Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.

You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.

"Care to join me?"

His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.

"You're outta your mind, princess ."

You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.

"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."

You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that?

"I was only-"

You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."

"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it?

“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."

You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.

"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."

"I don't think it would work for me."

"Why don't we find out?"

Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.

"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”

Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you.

You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.

"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."

"I don't care about that."

"No?"

With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.

“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”

It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.

“Here, follow my steps.”

You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make.

He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.

“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!”

A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold.

You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.

“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.

“I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."

"Never seen you do that before."

"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."

You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.

"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."

You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.

"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?"

"Why not,” he says with a shrug.

His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.

"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.

"...Fair enough."

"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."

"Who cares."

His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right?

"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"

He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”

His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.

“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”

“Never been more lucid in my life.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest.

[ 2:26 min .]

…

I just want to get your head back, baby

Give you all the love I got, for sure

So, baby, if you've got that feeling

You know I wanna give you that midnight healing

Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long

…

Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.

Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.

You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine.

The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath.

"Y/n?"

"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.

His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you.

"What's going on?"

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you.

You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him.

"Nothing! It's all going great!"

Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster.

You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies.

"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."

He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.

"You ok? What happened?"

Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip.

You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."

"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-"

"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!"

Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.

"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."

You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.

Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.

"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"

Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.

"What is it now?"

"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"

The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.

"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."

You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too.

"Simon, I'm… I'm-"

"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?"

He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.

You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"

He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable.

"No."

"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.

Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.

Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.

"Come with me…"

He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor.

Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well.

The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.

With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him.

" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”

Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight.

“I’m not, trust me…”

He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.

"You brought me here. Why ?"

"I-I don't know…"

"You don't know?"

You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.

"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"

Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.

"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?"

"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-"

You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.

You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.

"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."

His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened.

“That made you panic?”

You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.

"T-There's something else..."

You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.

Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little.

"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace.

Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether.

"I know."

“Wha-?!”

You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.

"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible.

"Is it really so fucking obvious?"

"No.”

In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”

" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side.

Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in.

So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this?

" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?"

"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.

Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.

"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."

He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.

“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."

He hums softly.

Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you.

Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows.

His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"

"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?"

He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.

"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."

His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck.

"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."

You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat.

"Y-You want me to do it?"

"Aye."

Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.

"You have pretty lips…"

Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-"

Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion.

You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.

Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control.

Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer.

You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together.

All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated.

"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself.

"...I want you to be my first."

A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet.

Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly.

Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory.

As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress.

Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself.

You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours.

When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”

The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.

“Do w-what, exactly?”

His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard.

He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time.

“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”

A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat.

One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly.

“Oh!”

Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress.

"This is uncharted territory, innit?"

"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."

You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.

"Don't mind if I do."

You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.

You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.

His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness.

He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets.

“F-Fuck, Simon…”

You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad.

He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole.

The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor.

Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved.

Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes.

Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again.

If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive.

He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act.

Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now.

Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.

When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel.

For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.

Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.

“ Bloody hell , princess…”

He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.

“Is this ok?”

He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.

You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.

You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think you can take me, mh?”

Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.

“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”

Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”

You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”

He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation.

“Stop me anytime if you need to.”

He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”

Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.

Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.

“G-God… That’s…”

His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile.

He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.

You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless.

You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.

So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?

“Y/n…”

It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.

Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.

“Si, I think I’m about to-”

He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.

You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.

“Eyes on me, beautiful.”

You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.

His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.

Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.

Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.

His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory.

His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.

"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide.

"I'm... glad it was you."

It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy.

You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip.

" I'm glad it was me ."

Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."

He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed.

Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.

“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”

His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.

"I'm just taking it all in..."

"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."

You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks.

"Oh, shut up..."

You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.

His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.

The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.

The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.

"It looks better on me."

You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”

"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”

“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”

You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head.

“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”

You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.

“Alright, alright…”

Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him.

He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.

You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?"

“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”

You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.

“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”

“Can’t make promises, princess.”

Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet.

You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.

“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."

He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom.

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again.

The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress.

You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.

Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you.

Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway.

When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation.

"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out."

The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?"

You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."

A beat.

"Alright then. Off we go."

On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.

You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.

"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!"

Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks, but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.

He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.

It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.