#identify yourself mate

[ganymedia-guys]

AI until proven human...

...or man, at least next time don’t go for baby-bottom skin!

[buddyapologist]

i don't wade into discourse because there are so many other things to do but I saw someone who had in their pinned smth like "dni if you refer to anyone as antis" and I understand wanting to avoid that particular genre of discourse but there are people who call themselves antis of xyz like. I see it in bios/tags. it's not uncommon

[thewispsings]

better streamer | max verstappen

pairing; max verstappen x streamer!reader

summary; after getting completely demolished on stream by user; fartsnifer max makes it his life purpose to win a game against her. to bad he never does and they fall in love instead.

— fartsnifer has posted new photos!

liked by, charlesleclerc, and 57,924 others!

fartsnifer: very nice stream tonight! thank you so much to all those who joined 🫶🫶 and thank you to all of my new followers! welcome, you are now all official fartsnifers 🔥

view comments below!

user1: i love your content but i will not be identified as a fartsnifer.

user2: i too did not want to identify as a fartsnifer. i am now proud to be one 😕

user3: being a fartsnifer is a PRIVILEGE. be proud

user4: i’m sorry but i can’t take you guys seriously while you’re calling yourself fartsnifers 😭😭

user5: this is the girl who embarrassed the f1 grid in cod?!?

user6: this is her!!!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1, @/landonorris, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri @/logansargent, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo

user7: bro tagged the whole family 💀

user8: LMAO CHARLES???

user9: how did he find her so quick 😭

user10: basically all of f1twt is talking about her 😭😭

maxverstappen1: @/fartsnifer check dms.

user11: MAX WHATTT

user12: willing to bet he’s asking her for a rematch

user13: that’s so ominous “check dms.” LIKE DAMN OKAY

user14: max just accept that she is better than you. it’s okay.

georgerussell63: well well well, if it isn’t fartsnifer herself.

fartsnifer: well well well, if it isn’t the guy who scream like a girl

georgerussell63: um actually, that was @/landonorris, NOT me.

landonorris: why are you lying?

user15: y/n replying to george and not max is killing me 😭

maxverstappen1: check dms.

user16: this is embarrassing max, one comment was enough

user17: i think he wants y/n to check her dms?

oscarpiastri: good game tonight! 👊

fartsnifer: thanks piastri!

user18: thank you oscar for showing y/n that f1 drivers do in fact have decorum 🧍

logansargent: don’t fraternize with the enemy Oscar.

maxverstappen1: check dms please.

user19: oh max…

user20: it just got even more embarrassing

user21: the way y/n is very clearly ignoring him is SO FUCKING FUNNY

user22: i love your content pls don’t die

danielricciardo: please answer Max’s messages.

user23: daniel did max make you do this???

danielricciardo: yes.

maxverstappen1: check dms.

user24: OMG MAX WE GET ITTTT

user24: y/n please answer his dms this is getting sad to watch

— y/n l/n and max verstappen have shared a collaborated post!

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 392,839 others!

fartsnifer: join my stream tonight to watch me humiliate this 3x wdc!! 👊👊

view comments below!

user25: omg she actually answered his messages 😭

maxverstappen1: that is not the photo we agreed on.

fartsnifer: but this one was so much funnier!!

user26: oh i WILL be tuning in

user27: this is going to be the funniest thing ever

user28: strangers to lovers…

user29: OH BROTHERRR

landonorris: best buddy’s with the enemy now mate?

maxverstappen1: i must win.

user30: i love that photo of max

user30: the ways he’s just 🧍

charles_leclerc: woohoo!! go y/n 👏👏

georgerussell63: fake.

landonorris: she is the enemy charles!

logansargent: after she humiliated us on stream? i can’t believe this.

maxverstappen1: you sick traitor. after everything we’ve been through?

charles_leclerc: i like her videos guys 😕

user31: charles leclerc a official fartsnifer confirmed!!

user32: i was planning to sleep early today….but this seems more important

user33: oh but if i said enemies to friends to lovers…

user34: i would say you’re delusional!! 😝😝

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 583,826 others!

fartsnifer: life feels good when you don’t have to pay for your own dinners 🤤 @/maxverstappen1

view comments below!

user35: hasn’t it already been over a month 🤨

user36: i think they played again and if y/n won max had to pay her dinners for ANOTHER month

user37: they just want an excuse to keep in touch 😒😒

user36: oh most definitely LMAOOO

maxverstappen1: when did i get you sushi?

fartsnifer: like three days ago remember????

maxverstappen1: ah yes! i remember now

user37: max is literally traveling the world racing and still finds time to order y/n dinner online EVERY SINGLE DAY.

user38: he wants her so bad and you can’t convince me otherwise 😐

landonorris: can you play today?

fartsnifer: don’t you have quali today???!?!

landonorris: i mean after 😒

fartsnifer: yeah just tell me when

maxverstappen1: can i join?

user39: omg max no

user40: oh i just got the worst second hand embarrassment jesus christ

user41: that was the saddest sentence ever written

fartsnifer: ofc you can maximilian!!

charles_leclerc: you shouldn’t try this delicious italian restaurant! i’ll send max the address!!

fartsnifer: thank you charles 🫶🫶

maxverstappen1; don’t thank him 🙄 I’m the one buying it.

user42: don’t be jealous max…

liked by 273,827 others!

fartsniferupdates: queen fartsnifer herself was seen at the f1 austrian race today!! i think we ALL know who she was there for… 😉😉

view comments below!

user43: she flew to austria for a MAN ?? 🤨

user44: to be fairrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN so…

user45: they are so dating!! they literally left together and looked so happy

user46: i fucking knew it

user47: okay enemy’s to lovers…get it ig

user48: maybe y/n can let max win at COD now that they’re a…thing?

user49: y/n looks so good

user50: IKR!!! her hair is chefs kiss

liked by, landonorris, charles_leclerc, fartsnifer, and 763,825 others!

maxverstappen1: finally payed for her dinner in person 💪

view comments below!

user51: oh HE posted her?? yeah he’s in love

user52: he ruined his entire feed aesthetic to post a picture of her 🥹🥹🥹

fartsnifer: i don’t like that picture🧍delete please!

maxverstappen1: karma!

maxverstappen1: and you look cute 🙄

user53: OH!!!

user54: yeah they are definitely dating

landonorris: finally!! God you were getting to annoying with your “she’s so pretty.” “and she’s good at games.” “do you think if we started dating she’d let me win.”

maxverstappen1: delete this.

fartsnifer: too late!! i’ve seen it. no max just because we’re dating doesn’t mean i will let you win

maxverstappen1: 😕

user55: OMG SHE JUST CONFIRMED IT?? THEY ARE ACTUALLY DATING?? HOLY SHIT

user56: girl he literally flew her out to watch him race. ofc they were dating 😭😭

user33: I FUCKING KNEW IT!! FUCK YOU ALL WHO SAID I WAS DELUSIONAL!! WHAT NOW HUH??? YOU SEE THIS?? I WAS RIGHT!! AHAHAHAH

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc: that was for y/n, not max.

maxverstappen1: geez thanks mate!

fartsnifer: love you charles ‼️‼️

user57: LMAOOO

user58: the way charles became a full on fartsnifer fan is so crazy

user59: he literally talks about her all the time too 😭😭 when he was asked what he’s been watching recently he answered “i’ve been watching a streamer named fartsnifer! she’s funny.” he’s so proud about it

georgerussell63: you are all traitors!! after what she did to us that fateful day? i can’t believe this!

fartsnifer: you literally invited me for drinks tomorrow?? 🧍

georgerussell63: SHHHH 🤫🤫

user60: max is dating someone who gos by the name fartsnifer….yeah i didn’t see this coming

. . .

notes: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed :))

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to <3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 

It almost felt like something a husband would do. 

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 

The ring of his phone was the break. 

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 

Suddenly, you stand. 

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 

He fucking laughs. 

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 

You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 

But he does, of course he does. 

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 

This is going to be miserable, you think. 

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy. 

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 

“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited. 

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…” 

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 

But it’s you. You’re special. 

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 

But you don’t. 

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 

So he does it again. 

And again. 

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

[crystalflygeo]

Mark of an Archon ft. Venti / Zhongli / Ei / Focalors / Nahida / Neuvillette + gn!reader

cw/tags: Mostly suggestive but nsfw in some parts (mostly Zhongli, Neuvillette) marking, kissing.

notes: Alright so... this is different from anything I've written before but I got inspired by the concept of the elemental symbols used as marks by the Archons to denote those important to them. Just short fluffy little dabbles I guess, first time writing everyone except the dragon men heh. I tried REALLY HARD to keep this gender neutral and be inclusive in descriptions but regardless, reader bottoms lmao. Hope y'all like it. (Y'all will NEVER guess where did I get the inspiration for all the marks' placements hehe) Edit: Y'all I have never played obey me WHEEZE the marks placement actually comes from a very old magical girl anime I loved as a kid XDDDD (except geo, it was on the belly button but-//hit)

It is said that the Archons place a mark on the body of their loved ones. A symbol of protection, perhaps of “ownership”, imbued with their elemental energy. Legends has it that they remain mostly invisible to the naked eye, glowing brightly only when the Archon in question touches it, but leaving behind a distinctive trace able to be identified with elemental sight.

However, none of this has been proven at all, and remains mostly as a fantastic tale, just a rumor…

Or is it?

-Barbatos

Venti’s mark rests between your shoulder blades, the small Anemo sigil emulating tiny wings in the most appropriate of places. It makes him fond of calling you his “angel”, though, you know it cannot compare to his own real wings... it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.

It remains mostly covered, and yet without fail, Venti’s hand would always gently rest on it before his hand slides over to your shoulder or waist. At this point the touch soothes you and you’ve come to expect it every time you enter Angel’s share and bright Aqua eyes land on you.

In the dark of night, those precious moments of closeness and passion among the bedsheets, Venti’s nimble fingers, calloused by the Lyre and the bow alike, trail along your spine and stop at the mark, before he leans in and places a kiss on it.

For the God of Freedom to brand someone like this… it would seem as a contradiction, but you know it to be his blessing, his vow to you and your love. As his lips go up to your shoulder and his hands slide down to your waist, sneaking between your legs, he closes his eyes and hums a soft tune.

-Morax

The Geo mark is found on a rather unusual place, and to tell the truth, it even embarrassed you a little at first. The golden diamond placed just below your navel, partially hidden by the line of your underwear. When asked about it, Zhongli simply murmured something about dragon mating, fertility or virility… his cheeks dusted red.

You admit though, that once you get used to it, you do find yourself idly tracing it from time to time. Sometimes it seems to glow softly, or feel warm, perhaps responding to the Archon when he thumbs gently at it, contrasting and comparing with his own blackened arms, etched with veins of gold. Amber eyes staring up at you with love and desire as he places a kiss on it making you shiver.

Zhongli constantly wants to mark you more, in all sorts of ways. Drape you in silks and cover you in gemstones and gold. Leave bite marks along your skin. Douse you in his scent. It appeases his draconic instincts. But nothing compares to that little geo sigil, a personal indisputable claim, tattooed on your skin.

In a way, the mark could be taken as the God of Contracts’ signature and an unbreakable oath to you, his mate. It makes the dragon purr as he rolls his hips into yours, sinking deep inside you and making you whine as his palm presses against it.

-Beelzebul

Right at the center of your collarbone, like a pendant held by an invisible necklace, that is where the Electro mark was placed by Ei. Sometimes it’s a real shame it can’t be seen normally by humans, it would make for a pretty nice tattoo…

It’s not like the Electro sigil is rare to see anyway, quite the contrary, a rather popular choice and common sight all over Inazuma with deep cultural and religious meanings alike honoring Her Excellency. But one look from a youkai or one of the mikos at Narukami shrine and you know this is different.

Ei could act aloof and have a hard time expressing or understanding feelings, but the way she looks at you as she straddles you… dark violet hair cascading down her back and sides, hands roaming your chest and settling at your shoulders. She pins you there under her intense purple gaze and then bends forward to kiss at the sigil before moving to your lips.

The Goddess of Eternity considers her choices deeply and rarely ever goes back on her word or breaks a promise, and that is what she bestows upon you with her mark, a promise. Of love, of respect, of loyalty. Who would’ve thought the Electro Archon could be so… passionate?

-Focalors

You couldn’t believe just where Lady Furina had placed a pretty, blue, Hydro symbol on your skin. When asked about it she’d just giggled and said everything had a reason when it came to divine marks such as these… then proceeded to not explain at all. But seriously, your inner thigh?!

You could only sigh but smile softly at her antics as she laid across the couch, head rested in your lap, taking a nap by using your thighs as pillow, or demanding to be fed more sweets and sputtering indignantly when you poke at her nose or cheek instead, blushing.

She often drives you insane, paying special attention to the hydro marking with kisses and nibbles when you need her lips to go just a little more to the side… but oh, how she enjoyed teasing and riling you up. Mismatched blue eyes blinking coyly under thick eyelashes.

This is Lady Furina’s pledge to you, her word of honor as the Goddess of Justice, to love and cherish you no matter what. For despite her innocent act, she is guilty of having fallen for you.

-Bonus: Buer (Platonic)

Many people underestimate and doubt Nahida. A grave sin, in your opinion. When she places her mark of Dendro softly in your forehead, you feel nothing but pride, willing to follow and defend her and her teachings, for it is an honor to be her acolyte.

You see her wisdom in her actions, in the contemplating looks at her beloved city and people, in the way she always tries to solve problems and learn from difficulties, in her kindness, gentleness and little smiles. You see her love in the way she helps the elderly and soothes the children, in the candied ajilenakh nuts she shares with everyone, in the sparkle of her unique green eyes.

Like any other Archon, her nation and all its inhabitants are like her children. Despite her preferred appearance, the way she holds your hand as she guides you along and brushes at your hair gently with comforting words and praise feel more akin to a mother.  

Just as you trust her, she trusts you, that is the covenant her sigil represents. And in the eyes of the Goddess of Wisdom, one day you’ll reach the sky and stars above.

-Bonus II: Hydro Dragon Sovereign

You stare at the sigil in the palm of your hand. An ancient symbol of power, no doubt, but with a meaning long since lost to time and shrouded in mystery. Yet, its significance is crystal clear to you: “I am yours as you are mine.”

The way the Iudex would always, without fail, hold your hand gently and kiss your palm instead of the back of it as it was traditional would no doubt confuse some people, but it makes your heart skip a beat. This special connection, the knowing look from those gorgeous lavender eyes and the hidden smile pressed against your skin…

Your back arches with a moan as Neuvillette ruts softly into you, slow and reverent, peppering kisses and nuzzling at your neck. His hand takes a hold of yours, fingers intertwining and you shiver as the marking in your palm seems to react. Your grip his hand tighter, canting your hips as well and surrounding him with your legs, asking for more, more, more-

It’s unknown if one day his kind will return to power, just as it’s impossible to predict the flow of the elements and the energy in leylines or just what the future will bring. But for Neuvillette, having you by his side feels like the most refreshing spring water and makes life that much sweeter.

[shadowdaddies]

Distraction

Azriel x Reader

A/N: I keep thinking about how this scene from Captain America: the Winter Soldier would fit so well for Azriel x reader on a spy mission

warnings: none

A knock on your door shook you from your daze, wide eyes alert in a prepared defense until you heard the familiar voice rumble lowly through the wooden doorway.

“Are you ready?” Azriel questioned, rough voice sending an unrecognizable thrill through you as you strode towards the door. Turning the handle, you looked up to see hazel eyes darkening as the striking Illyrian swallowed, gaze raking over your form in the fitted dress you’d donned for the evening.

“Ready, Az,” you nodded, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of admiring your friend’s appearance. He was dressed in a fitted all-black ensemble, tailored to show his impressive physique and highlight his features. He looked like a Prince of Darkness as he stepped to the side, holding out an arm for you to take.

“You look very nice, Azriel,” you smiled, playfully nudging him with your shoulder as he led you down the hall to the grand ballroom. 

He stiffened slightly at your words, as though shocked by the compliment, before he turned to face you. “You look...” he paused, taking a deep breath when he stepped back to look at you. Something sparked in your chest when he spoke again. “You look beautiful.”

Nodding, you looked away in an attempt to hide your blush as well as Azriel had hidden his shadows for the evening. You were both undercover from the Night Court, attending this ball in Hybern to find information on potential traitors. 

Since the war was won, Prythian had absorbed the kingdom of Hybern, but many were still resistant to the ideals of the Continent. You were sent with Azriel to the new ruler of Hybern’s birthday celebration to gather intel, searching for those who might pose a threat to the High Lord and Lady’s restructured kingdom. 

With Azriel’s shadows, he would be quickly identified as the infamous shadowsinger of the Night Court, but with his shadows hidden and you by his side, you could blend in with the other fae relatively easily. 

Which is why you now carried your shimmering skirts, shoes clicking down the marble floored halls with Azriel on your arm. You had expected to be more nervous going into the event, but something about Azriel’s touch kept you grounded, feeling calmer than ever. 

Approaching the double doors that led to the grand ballroom, you nodded your appreciation to the guards who opened the doors for you both. Words escaped you at the beauty of the room before you, murals of fairies from old lining the walls along with gilded chandeliers and twinkling faelight. It was beautiful and romantic, a far cry from what you had imagined Hybern to be.

Feeling a tug on your arm, you looked up to see Azriel flashing you a knowing grin as he guided you towards a servant. Picking up two drinks from their tray, he murmured appreciation to them before handing you a glass. You half-expected him to say something about the beauty of the evening, but surprise didn’t find you with his words.

“Remember our story. Keep it vague and learn what you can tonight,” Azriel murmured, his warm hand rubbing affectionately on your waist at odds with his words. You nodded, remembering your role new mates as your role for the night, and that his touch meant nothing more.

Twining your fingers with his, you led Azriel to a couple who stood by the hearth, smiling as they both listened to the band play its lively tune. You chatted with them, learning the gossip about several royal families who did not approve of the new structure in Hybern. 

“Well done,” Azriel murmured, his lips warm against your knuckles as he pulled them, twirling you in a playful move across the dance floor closer to the next target for intel. 

You wished the giggle that escaped you was more effort than it was, but something about you was truly drawn to Azriel. He was gentle with you, but fiercely defensive of those he cared for. A skilled warrior and good friend. 

Swallowing, you willed your emotions beneath the surface to plaster on your face of grace. Swiping another glass of faerie wine, you focused on the faux feelings you’d manufactured for the evening, ignoring those you really felt towards Azriel as best you could.

You were deep in conversation, laughing and joking with the female visiting from Vallahan when Azriel’s fingers tensed around your waist. Feigning ignorance, you smiled lazily at your “mate.” 

“Is everything alright, my love?” You asked - the question you’d planned beforehand if anything unplanned were to arise. 

Azriel’s gaze flicked to you, more wild than you had ever seen his bright hazel eyes. “I am just aching for a dance with my mate, is all,” he purred, teasing voice betraying the shaking fingertips that hovered your hips.

With audible “awws” and cooing at two new mates who couldn’t resist to be apart, the other fae ushered you towards the busy dance floor, where Azriel took your hand and waist, back held in surprisingly impressive form.

“I know the male in the opposite corner from where I face,” Azriel whispered in your ear, soft as if he were telling you sweet nothings. You ignored the hitch in your breath, gaze flicking briefly to a tall, burly male in the corner whose own eyes flicked to Azriel with curiosity.

“Come with me,” you whispered back, not missing how Azriel shivered at your lips on his ear. He followed you, hands loosely intertwined while you wove through the crowd towards the dark corner of the room opposite from the suspecting male.

Your heart hammered in your chest as the male moved through the ballroom, gaze scanning the crowd including yourselves as though he were looking for someone. 

“Kiss me,” you whispered, pulling Azriel’s body tight against your own, which was pressed to the cold wall. 

“W-what?” he choked out, and you had to bite back your grin at the uncharacteristically flustered spymaster. 

“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. Kiss me,” you demanded, willing yourself not to look to the presence you could sense nearing you.

Azriel’s eyes practically glowed as he searched your face, searching for affirmation before one hand found your waist, the other wrapping around the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.

An electric energy shot through you, the spark hitting your chest hard enough to steal your breath at the feeling of his soft lips on your own. You melted into the kiss with ease, both of your bodies interlacing like two halves of a whole. 

You were dizzy for air, completely forgetting everyone else around you when Azriel pulled away, his eyes wide with something that looked like shock. 

Pushing back, you scanned the area for potential threats before deciding you couldn’t find anything. “Azriel, what happened? Are you okay?” You whispered, thumb stroking his cheek to keep up the charade of new mates.

“I- you’re my...” Azriel stuttered, just as you caught sight of the suspicious male slipping out onto the balcony. 

“Come on, Az. Let’s see what they’re up to,” you whispered, keeping a note in your mind to ask him what he was distracted by at a later time.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Tawtute Sickness (A Precious Drabble)

Pairing: Adult Ao'nung x Hyperfeminine Human Reader

This one shot is from the Precious series. It can be read alone but reading the Precious origin story gives a better experience and context.

Summary: There is still so much that Ao'nung does not understand about Sky People so with your cycle running off track, he is in for quite a surprise.

Warnings: MDNI, explicit talk of menstruation, talk of blood, hormones, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding, dominant Ao'nung, interspecies relationship, aged up Ao'nung, crying, self doubt, insecurity, protective Ao'nung, swearing, PMS, sexual themes, etc.

A/N: This is just a random little fun something I thought of when I was on my period. Nothing like a silly fantasy to help one cope:)

Adult Ao'nung pic by @cinetrix

Another cramp rolls through you mercilessly. With a groan you stuff a handful of stolen popcorn into your mouth. Surrounded by a small parade of stuffed animals atop your bed and drowning in the charm that is Mr. Darcy, there is no better place to take refuge. Your period has sprung into action earlier than expected but you’re proud of how things have been handled. 

It had taken copious amounts of bribery to convince Norm to deliver an excuse to Ao’nung as to why you can’t see him for a bit. Although double his age and even in possession of an Avatar body, Norm has always crumpled slightly under Ao’nung’s presence. Even as his visits have become more frequent at the outpost. The sight makes you giggle, no matter how hypocritical that is considering you too were anxious in his company for the first few weeks here. 

Despite the time that has passed since feelings were shared between the two of you, there is still a level of intimidation and intensity that comes with Ao’nung’s visits. He is never shy when it comes to sharing his opinions. Half the time it is hard to tell what will come out of the Metkayina male’s mouth next. Although, there are ways to identify the mischief that dances in his ocean blue eyes before. 

And neither is he bashful when it comes to sharing his particularly ravenous intentions with you. You would not be able to count on both hands the amount of times you’ve tried to swat his hands away while the two of you are in public. Not that it deters him. With a potential mating on the way it’s clear that the Metkayina prince views you as his own. Even in the extreme heights of embarrassment you can’t resist the wonders that he bestows upon your body. Always leaving your heart pounding at your rib cage and red face tucking under his chin afterwards. 

So in a way, you can’t blame Norm for never growing accustomed to Ao’nung’s company.

Regardless, the alibi has been sent and you’ve foraged for the proper snacks and feminine supplies to get your through. Now all that’s left to do is tuck into your room like a locked away princess in a tower and survive the next five days. Everything is going according to plan despite the sudden arrival of ‘Aunt Flow’. And in a few days you will be back snuggled in the impressively bulky arms of a certain Metkayina male. 

With a sigh you snuggle deeper into the plush surface. Despite the risk of stains you’ve allowed yourself the luxury of wearing one of your favorite pajama sets. It’s a dusted pink shade of silk that reminds you of the vintage film Sleeping Beauty. With the soft trim of purple lace along the sleeve and shorts hem, you feel like a delicate princess waiting to be rescued. Perhaps a foolish and even childish way to cope but it’s easier to get through the pain when you blur the harsh lines of reality into that of day dreams. 

However, it seems reality will not be kept out for long.

Or at least, Ao’nung won’t be.

You hear his pounding footsteps before he even reaches your hallway, the faint echo of Norm’s protests doing nothing to stop that determined rhythm. Norm scatters away once Ao’nung has pushed your door open, with a little too much force that makes you cringe. It’s an under evaluation of his strength luckily and not rooted in any real malice. Not when his eyes now narrow at you with a playful reprimand as his tail swings. 

“What have I said about avoiding me, precious?” He clicks his tongue, hands atop his hips as you scramble further under the pillows and stuffies. 

You feel foolish for thinking this plan would work but now that Ao’nung is here you are ready to do whatever it takes to conceal your embarrassing condition. 

“Not to.” You cake the tone over with sweet innocence and an even more tooth rotting smile. As always it’s done with a certain level of hesitancy, your nerves getting the better of you when his bulking frame is taking over your doorway. Still, you’ve learned there are special ways to soften Ao’nung’s composure. 

He takes a few strides into your room, effectively prompting you to scoot back further towards the headboard. 

“Hm, so then why is my precious sevin tucking away from me? I’m starting to think you crave some discipline, paskalin.” That sharp curve of a devilish smirk looks stunning along his turquoise lips. And like the true traitor she is, your pussy flutters at the sight. 

It’s not fair for him to waltz in here with bedroom eyes and chest still adorned with a hunting harness and weapons. Not fair when your body is literally punishing you for not being pregnant and Ao’nung offers himself up on a silver platter for your nature’s carnal desires. And especially not fair when pieces of those curling strands have fallen from his bun and lay across his collarbones to leave drops of salt water. 

You are in no state to be making plans. And definitely not finding ways to coerce the stubborn prince away from something he wants. 

“I’m just not feeling well, Ao’nung. Didn’t want to make you sick.” 

Ao’nung scoffs at the idea, borderline offended that you would even consider that a possibility. With your delicate state it seems laughable to him that you would be capable of passing on any sort of sickness to him. 

“Such a fragile thing.” He steps forward with the roll of his eyes. “Do not worry, I will-”

His sentence cuts off as sharp as the jagged rocks on the westside. Now at the foot of your bed, his nostrils flare visibly. Your stomach tangles in despair, already anticipating where this is going. 

“You’re bleeding.” He states, dark tone barely giving you a chance to register his words before he is rushing to your side. Ao’nung crawls onto the bed without  a passing concern for the screeching of the bed frame under his weight. Within seconds his large frame is towering over your own smaller body until you are wedged into the corner.

“No it’s nothing really. Well I mean I am bleeding but not in the way you think…or well it’s…” The rambling doesn’t reach his ears, ocean eyes searching over every inch of you to find the injury. Trepidation settles at the looming embarrassment that threatens to follow as you desperately squeeze your thighs together. 

Fighting against Ao’nung massive hands that clutch your shoulder and hips to turn you is useless but you can’t resist trying. And then his eyes snap downwards and with it your last shred of hope signed away. A look of utter horror contorts over his face as he stares down at the thin shorts just barely covering your panties. 

A beat of silence ensues. 

Face now the shade and temperature of a raging bonfire you struggle to think of a response through the fog of humiliation. 

“How…” The sound is barely choked out from his lungs. It’s a rare sight to see Ao’nung speechless, every ounce of playful banter wiped clean. And if the circumstances were any different, as in not having that dread painted across his face at the reveal of your bleeding vagina, then you would be tempted to enjoy seeing the mighty male so caught off guard. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your plush hips. It’s clear that his head is struggling to come back online and process what devastating news he has uncovered. 

“Well you see-” Your voice unfortunately seems to snap him out of whatever daze he has been in, his body moving into action before you can even finish your sentence. 

“I will take you to my mother.” Perhaps the most terrifying sentence Ao’nung could say as he starts trying to pull you into his arms. Embarrassment bleeds into panic. A sense of anxiety bounces between the two of you as he rushes to scoop you up and bring you to the healer’s tent and you grasp at anything to keep from being met with the most intimidating woman on the planet in this condition. 

“No wait! Ao’nung it’s fine. I’m fine.” It’s not much use when he already has your wiggling figure dragged to the end of the bed with just one hand around your ankle. It traps you underneath his body in one swoop. 

“You are bleeding.” Ao’nung reiterates, sharp canines coming to show with a slight hiss. “Mawey tawtute, she will know what to do.” He nods firmly, but there's a crack of hesitance in his voice. As if the reassurance is really there for himself than anyone else. You’ve never seen Ao’nung so serious before, nor this panicked. 

Your pleas for release mean nothing as he quickly gathers you into his arms. Panic and humiliation work in tandem to wrestle you into a state of utter panic. And working more on instinct than real thinking you do the one thing that will grant you freedom.

You grab a fistful of curly hair and yank. Hard. 

Dropped back onto your plushy bed as Ao’nung lets out a pained hiss you scramble for the one place you might be able to hide. It’s painfully obvious and stereotypical but your closet is the first and only place you can think to escape the handsome male. The door bangs shut, encasing you in the darkness surrounded by frilly dresses and tickling lace. 

You grasp the handle with all the determination your exhausted body can muster. Ronal is a wonderful healer and exquisite leader but quite literally the last person on the planet you would want to witness your embarrassing, very stupidly human, condition. It’s likely that similar to her son she too would not know about human menstruation. 

It’s gross. You feel gross. Your entire body aches and as Ao’nung starts to yank on the other handle tears are already welling up in your eyes. From what emotion exactly you haven’t the faintest clue but the weak reaction brings a pit of annoyance into the mix too. Because of course all it takes is your concerned boyfriend who is just trying to help, to put you into another crying fest. This would be the third one this morning. 

It seems that whatever god created humans was far less kind than Eywa who at least had the decency to keep women from suffering monthly in the name of procreation. And with that thought in mind, anger comes to intertwine as well. 

“Ao’nung stop! I’m not injured!” A rough shout that is anger more directed at your current situation than hands that now swing the door open. 

The Metkayina male however is more than peeved now too. He isn’t about to take no for an answer as he hooks a thick arm around your midsection to pull you out. 

“Stop struggling.” He growls. 

You're halfway to the doorway of the bedroom and Ao’nung is anything but deterred by your babbling about how it is normal, just a tawtute thing. So your mouth makes a decision before your brain can approve it. 

“It’s because I’m not pregnant!” A shout loud enough to echo down the outside hallway and freeze the Metkayina prince in place. 

What a stupid thing to say. A terrible terrible mistake, you decide as you wiggle out of his grasp to glance up at his face. Now having rendered the male speechless twice in five minutes you feel slightly guilty. And humiliated. Along with disgusting, angry, tired. In fact you may as well feel every emotion under the sun with the way your chest squeezes painfully. 

“I’m not hurt. I’m not in need of healing. It’s called menstruation. Yet another wonderful thing about being a human woman. Where my stupid vagina decides to bleed every month because there is no fucking baby in me!” Your screeches make Ao’nung’s ears pin back, your chest heaving with the effort as tears rocket down your cheeks. You can’t find it within yourself to care that this is the harshest language Ao’nung has ever heard from you. Not when sobs are already crawling up your throat and tears blurr the view of the towering male before you.

The same male that is beautiful beyond belief. The same that has somehow found some interest in you. And now the same that has yet another gross reason to rethink being with a human. 

“So no I’m not hurt but I am…am…” Trembling lips crumble into a pout. Ao’nung’s tail curves. “I am miserable. Cramping. Tired. So fucking sad because this is the seventh time I’ve watched Pride and Prejudice because I can’t find the other earlier remake of it. And angry because I’ve already ruined a pair of pink panties. The ones with the clouds…that…that took me hours to make and…and I’m so disgusting!” Ao’nung’s eyes are blown wide enough to push his hairless brows into his hairline. “There’s blood everywhere! And I fucking hate it! And…and..my sleeve got caught on the doorknob earlier-”

Strong arms gently pull you until your cheek meets the warm skin of his abs. That simple action is enough to break the dam barricading your emotions. Now in a full meltdown, you paint his swirled skin with your tears and the racketing sobs fill the room sporadically. It feels nice to have something to hold onto, small fingers squeezing his hips as you break down. 

Minutes. Hours. Years. There is no recalling how long the two of you spend in that position as you unleash every torturing feeling from your chest. What you do know is that those large hands drawing up and down your back eventually soothe those sobs into small hiccups and then finally into short sniffles. 

“You’re not hurt.” Ao’nung checks again, calmly breaking the silence. 

“M’not hurt.” You mumble against his skin, soon thereafter mourning the loss of contact when Ao’nung carefully shifts you backwards. Disappointment does not linger for long, however, when a set of turquoise thumbs brush away the tears falling over your cheeks. 

Although his expression appears to be nothing related to anger, it’s difficult to decipher what exactly the Metkayina prince is thinking. A part of you wishes to not even venture to guess but that train of thought has already left the station. Another wave of embarrassment floods as you imagine just how ridiculous you must look at this moment. Eyes blotching and red as you cry over a simple natural process that is nothing in comparison to that of which the Na’vi go through to maintain everyday village life. Hiding away from your boyfriend in a sea of stuffed animals and stuffing yourself with popcorn as your way of throwing a pity party all while Ao’nung is still dressed in his hunting gear.

No doubt he has been up since dawn. Fulfilling both physically and socially draining duties to keep the clan running smoothly, in preparation for his time of reign. Ao’nung is everything you are not. You knew it within the first few minutes of meeting him. Perhaps he is not always the most patient or humble, but he is brave. And tough. Oh so mighty and resilient in taking on whatever Eywa throws his way. 

How much worse do you appear when coming from that perspective? Still dripping in salt water and spear leaning against the doorframe, what compels him to want to spend time with a whiny thing like you?

“Stop crying.” Large hands bracket the sides of your head as he works to keep up with the dropping tears. 

And you wish you could. 

You wish you could be more like the mighty warrior in front of you. Years have proven you to be nothing more than a small child that can not let go of her toys. Drowning in day dreams as your silly way to cope. 

That truth spins despair back into full swing. You feel even more guilty when Ao’nung pulls you back into his embrace, because who are you to warrant such affection? It’s clear that he deserves someone so much more and yet you selfishly accept the feel of his strong arms encircling you because it makes you feel safe. Because it allows air to properly enter your lungs again at a normal speed. 

When Ao’nung takes a knee to match your eye level, you twist to veer away from those crystal-like eyes. The Na’vi doesn’t give you much of a chance as he manhandles you back into place,his tongue clicking in disapproval, so he can look you over properly. 

“My poor tawtute.” He coos at you, as if addressing a lost juvenile creature without its mother. “Mawey, oeyӓ paskalin.” [Calm, my dear]  And before your brain can register the sweet nectar of his words, larger lips are pressing against your own. The light flutter of your heart is recurrent as he patiently works to deepen the kiss. It’s different from those that fill your passionate nights of lovemaking. Ao’nung patiently pulls you into that bliss until you are melting against him. 

Heavy eyes stall in opening once Ao’nung has pulled away. 

“Bring your mask.” Ao’nung intstructs abruptly. 

“What?” 

He has already risen to full height, a large hand resting along your spine to urge you towards the door. Unbothered by your confusion, he takes a well needed sip of air from his own dangling mask. When he does catch a glimpse of your expression he pauses before a smirk tugs at his lips and his tail bats playfully. 

“And your bunny of course.” He eyes the discarded toy with lips pulling back just enough to reveal sharp canines. “You will feel better once you are home.” 

And suddenly you are no longer confused. It should have been obvious, this most recent topic of argument between the two of you. No matter how fascinated Ao’nung is by your well decorated room he stops at nothing to coerce you to abide in his marui. He has been caught more than a few times even openly smuggling things from your room in the scheme of planting it in his home like bait for his prey. 

“Ao’nung no. I can’t come over tonight. Not like this.” 

Those hairless brows knit together as he sweeps over your frame once more. It’s clear he finds no flaw in your condition that would prevent you from letting him steal you away to his home. 

“And besides I have everything I need right here.” You scramble back over to your bed and begin explaining the little nest you have created for yourself. “Pillows for the perfect position, stuffed animals, snacks, and in another twenty minutes Mr. Darcy is going to confess his undying love for Elizabeth.” It’s clear that the last indication is lost on him as he follows your point towards the small tv. 

It’s not his first time observing the thin rectangle that plays moving pictures but it still manages to catch his confused attention each time. His lips curl back and faces squints with an utter look of disgust. The fact that the characters speak in Sky People language never helps to spark an interest for him. 

“I’m fine right here, Nung. I promise.” Your soft smile when you perch to sit atop the covers is only met with a scowl. The difficulty in explaining this to Ao’nung is yet another reason you had originally planned to hide away alone until this nightmare had blown over. “Go back to your duties. I’ll be happy here.” 

And that is the tipping point for Ao’nung. What is meant to come off as reassurance instead has his hairless brows pinching together and large hands settling over his curved hips. 

“You’re staying here for mester darsee.” It’s difficult to take his misplaced anger seriously when he struggles to pronounce the few English words. 

“No, Ao’nung that is not-”

“Fine. I will stay.” His massive body is already climbing onto your poor bed before you have another chance to protest. He continues to mutter under his breath. It’s a messy sprawl of annoyed curses and something about you not needing a Mr. Darcy. The giant Na’vi pouts even as he pulls you close to curl his body around yours. 

It’s wrong to keep the future Olo’eyktan to yourself like this but watching him sulk like a giant cat is too amusing to pass up. And then there is the comfort that comes with having Ao’nung wrapped around you like a dragon protecting his hoard, so you decide to be selfish. 

His curls tickle the back of your neck and a large hand spans over your abdomen. As he rubs soothing circles into your lower stomach you swear the heat and motion alone is better than the battery powered heating pack. The cramps don’t evaporate away but they settle into something more bearable, especially when your favorite scene finally comes onto the screen and you snuggle closer to your ridiculous lover. 

Slowly throughout the movie Ao’nung’s hand come to explore south into territory that would have Mrs. Bennett passing into an early grave. That confident exploration is a stark contrast to the simple touches exchanged between your favorite characters, but it holds the same passion. The same tension that has your thighs clamping together in defense against his devious fingers. 

You can feel the way his lips curve into a smirk against your ear. Period hormones are your sworn enemy as you are caught between fighting him off in sheer embarrassment and finally letting his hand slip underneath the band of your pretty shorts. 

“Don’t worry, oeyӓ tawtute. Next month I will do better.”

The sudden comments has you taken aback. .

“Do better at what?”

“Giving you my baby.” He casually states, unbothered by the way you freeze and struggle to take in oxygen. “This Sky Demon sickness won’t come for you when you are filled with my seed.” 

And like a silent promise, his thumb swipes over your lower stomach just as his fingers breach the band of your panties. 

I hope you enjoyed this little musing. I can't wait to carry out some of the other plans I have for these two. If you enjoyed it too please please let me know. I can't tell you enough how much hearing your feedback and comments means to me (anonymous or not).

[onelittlespiral]

Warning: Bear Attacks

As we move into the holiday season, we would like to issue our annual warning about bear attacks. With colder weather setting in, an increased number of bears will be driven indoors as they search for food, warmth, and mates. And bears are far more dangerous in confined spaces.

Take this specimen here for instance. At first glance, he seems like a kind, friendly, fuzzy man who would keep you warm through a cold winter night. Maybe not the most happening upstairs, but he means well. Would you believe that just this summer he looked more like this?

Young and cute, but certainly not the hairy beast we have seen him turn into this season. If you are going out this winter, be aware, and be alert for the warning signs and know what to do if a bear sets its sights on you. First, how do you identify a bear? There are a few common varieties, each with their own quirks:

You have the very standard Grizzly bear, warm and cuddly. Pronounced dad bod. Notice the expression, the signature bear smirk. This will be one of the earliest signs that a bear is on the hunt.

Of course you also have the muscle bears. Their signature muscles will be coated in a thick layer of fur, accentuating their size. Hair will peak out from beneath heavy biceps, and their tank tops give no doubt to the forest underneath. They will often infiltrate and train you up before attacking. They like their marks ready, bro.

Even the smaller, younger cubs present a danger this time of year. They may seem helpless, but let us assure you they are far more knowledgeable than they seem. They can cause some of the most drastic changes in age, hair, and temperament. Countless men soon find themselves caring for their cubs, foraging for them, and assuming responsibility as they age into papa bears for their sweet little cubs.

Now bears will all hunt in their own ways, but there are patterns to their behavior. First, bears tend to congregate together. If you notice one, be on alert for others. Second, beware of beer and whiskey drinks offered to you. These are the trademark drinks of several bear species. Third, monitor the air in a room. That many big, burly men will tend to warm a place up and start to sweat, and bear musk is among their most potent tools to pacify targets. And in greater numbers these effects can be amplified. Their fur traps the musk close to their skin, so the closer they get the more enraptured you will become. If you are subjected to a direct hit from, say, a bear’s pit, it may already to be too late.

In case you find yourself taken back to a bear’s den, all is not lost yet, but far more drastic measures may need to be taken. Continued exposure to them will accelerate any changes, so you must be quick and decisive. First, avoid any food they may offer you, no matter how starved you may suddenly feel yourself becoming. Feeding the insatiable new hunger will only awaken the bear that is growing inside of you. Second, avoid direct contact with their fur. They may appear warm and inviting, and their cuddles are indeed among the coziest in the world. But skin-to-fur contact encourages hair growth as your body grows a pelt of its own. Third, avoid getting under the covers with them. Their body heat will quickly begin to melt your wits and your body will begin sweating, creating a musk of its own to compliment. Take this young man for example:

He barely made it out from a cuddle session with a bear, but some drastic changes have already occurred. His 6 pack abs have begun their journey to a muscle gut. He can hardly go a day without shaving or a full beard will quickly cover his face. And the musk he now produces keeps him far hornier than he ever was before. The effect seems to be limited to just himself, for now. Can you believe he is only 21? Hasn’t been carded in months. He had to drop from his football team, no longer in the right shape for it. He now is much more suited to rugby. And he is one of the lucky ones. This one was not so lucky:

These two photos were taken mere days apart. He was, sadly, subjected to the final transformation: becoming a bear himself. After being taken to a den, accepting some greasy snacks, and cuddled into submission, this poor man was selected to be a bear’s mate. He was laid on his back, had his clothes removed, and the bear started massaging his legs and thighs. He ran his thick fingers over his hole and slowly worked his way inside to stretch him out for what was to come. It wasn’t long before his bear dick was pressed against him, and he felt the thick, veiny cock begin to slowly pump into his cavity. Once bears get started, it is nearly impossible to get them to stop. His thighs slapped against his target’s ass as his wild bush pressed against his hole. When a bear decides to breed, it is hot, steamy, and rough. Moans tend to erupt from victims as their body betrays them, fur pushing out from every follicle, minds consumed by thoughts of sex, food, and men. Their dicks tend to stretch to match that of their mate’s, growing thick as a beer can, and so sensitive. Any memories that conflict with the bear they are becoming are churned by a new, heavy sack. Testicles will swell to the size of golf balls under the effort. Their old lives leak out of their cocks as they are edged, molding beneath their captor until the bear is happy with their target. And then, the bear will come, pumping load after load deep into their new mate. The target’s belly bloats to contain it all, creating the signature bear gut that juts out over their new bodies. The effort will push any last memories out as their cock erupts. Both bears will quickly be exhausted, falling asleep in a sticky, smelly, sweaty heap. And then it’s over. We have yet to discover a way to revert any victims. Not that they would want to. They become enraptured with their new bodies, and begin to hunt on their own for new mates. It is said a bear has an insatiable appetite, and will change as many men as they can get their hands on in a winter season until they find the perfect mate for hibernation.

It is advised that men stay aware, stay alert, and stay away. Report any bear sightings immediately. And stay tuned for any further information.

[ghsface]

I CAN SEE YOU - spencer reid

summary: You watched him from a distance, dreaming of a moment when you could muster the courage to talk to him beyond the professional.

warnings: spencer reid x bau!fem reader ,kissing and I think that's all, if I'm missing something let me know.

author's note: The only thing I can do when I listen to this song is imagine Spencer, idk why this reminds me so much of him. I hope you like it and I'm sorry if there are mistakes/misspelled words, my native language is not English.🎀

All the friction in the hallways when you found him going to get some files or when you were going to see Penelope, all the stolen glances that you noticed almost every day when you were at your desk, even when they were on the Jet, he never took your eyes off.

The FBI office in Quantico was bustling with constant activity, but you were always lost in thought while pretending to review a file. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander to Spencer Reid, the genius of the team, who was sitting at his desk, engrossed in his books or his work.

You saw it every day, noticing the small details that others overlooked. The way he bit his lip when he was focused, how his fingers played with his hair when he was nervous.

There was something hypnotic about him, something that made you feel an inexplicable connection. But you always lacked the courage. You didn't want to risk your professional friendship, or your place on the team, for feelings that might not be reciprocated.

That afternoon, after a particularly tiring day, you found yourself reviewing some reports at your desk, trying to keep yourself busy. Most of the office had already left, leaving you alone with your group mates, leaving the place a little silent. You realized Spencer was there too, working on a file.

"Hi, Spence," you said, trying to sound casual as you approached his desk. The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, y/n,” he responded, his tone relaxed but attentive. "I thought you had already gone"

"No, I don't have to do three reports yet, it's like it's never going to end," you said, smiling warmly but with noticeable tiredness on your face.

Conversation flowed effortlessly as you shared stories and laughter as the two of you completed your reports. You felt more and more comfortable around him, and the connection you felt was palpable. As the afternoon wore on, you noticed a growing tension in the air, an implicit desire that you both seemed to share.

But all this was interrupted when you had to go get a file. "I have to go get a file," you said, getting up from your chair. "Wait, I'll come with you anyway, I am missing a file to finish this," he said, getting up and following you to the room where all the files were.

The filing room was dark and lined with shelves, and the atmosphere was filled with a tension that had nothing to do with work.

As we reviewed the files we were looking for, the conversation flowed naturally. We talked about books, movies, and of course the case we were reporting on.

Suddenly, I found a file that looked promising, but it was on a high shelf. I asked Spencer to help me reach it. As he reached out to grab it, I lost my balance and fell backwards. Just before I hit the ground, I felt Spencer's arms wrap around me, cushioning my fall.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

I nodded, feeling my heart beat faster than usual, not only from the shock, but also from the sudden closeness to Spencer. His eyes were shining with a mix of concern and something else she couldn't identify.

We stayed in that position for a moment, and the air between us was charged with a tension I had never felt before. Slowly, Spencer helped me to my feet, but his hands remained on my arms, as if he didn't want to let me go.

"Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, a shy but genuine smile that made my heart beat even faster. Before I realized what I was doing, I leaned towards him. Spencer didn't pull away, instead he closed the distance between us.

Our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss, filled with a suppressed emotion that had been building for a long time.

The kiss intensified quickly. We moved to a corner of the file room, out of sight of anyone who might enter. Our bodies joined in a dance of desire, the outside world fading as we gave ourselves to each other. Passion drove us to undo buttons and explore with trembling hands, desire growing with every second.

Just when the moment seemed like it was going to end in something more, a noise outside the room made us stop abruptly. We looked at each other, both out of breath and with flushed cheeks.

"We should stop," Spencer said, her voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

I nodded, trying to regain my composure. We made up the best we could and parted ways, knowing that what had just happened would change our relationship forever.

Leaving the archive room, we meet the team. Derek looked at us with an amused smile.

"Where have you been?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and a mischievous smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks blush, but before I could respond, Spencer took the initiative.

"Checking some important files," he said, with an enigmatic smile.

The team accepted the explanation, although not without some suspicious looks. As the night wore on, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the file room. It was an intense and beautiful, albeit interrupted, moment that marked the beginning of something new and exciting between Spencer and I, something I was eager to explore further.

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

Months later...

From that day on, Spencer and I began a secret relationship. We kissed in hidden places in the office, taking advantage of every opportunity to be together without being seen. Meetings became an excuse to brush hands under the table, and coffee breaks were furtive moments of quick kisses in deserted hallways.

One night while working late, we met again in the file room. The tension between us was palpable, and we couldn't resist. Spencer cornered me against a bookshelf, his lips meeting mine in a hungry kiss. His hands explored my body urgently, and I found myself responding with the same intensity.

"We have to be careful," Spencer whispered against my lips, his breathing ragged.

"I know," I replied, my fingers tangling in his hair, "but I can't help it."

Our secret romance continued, each encounter filled with the thrill of the forbidden. Despite the risks, neither of them wanted to stop. The passion we shared was too strong, and every kiss and caress only fueled our desire more.

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly☆

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello! I know that your asks are closed right now, but this idea just popped into my mind and I needed to get it to you before it disappeared. Please feel free to ignore this until your asks reopen or just ignore it in general. I don't want you to feel forced to do anything, especially when I'm breaking your blog rules!

Jack Howl × Gorou M! Reader

I just noticed that you didn't have anything for Jack where he's by himself; so I wanted to give you a bit of inspiration! Have a wonderful day, Mr. Benny.

Jack Howl - With Gorou-Like Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Originally I was going to do all of the asks from franchises that I hadn't written for before first, but then I saw this and remembered that Jack didn't have any stand-alone content on my blog yet, so I just had to right this injustice. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺

🍐  Jack first met you at the orientation ceremony. He sort of already felt comfortable around you because of your canine traits and the way you carried yourself with such seriousness and determination. The white-haired boy also thought you smelled kind of nice; like the ocean and water-logged wood, but there was also a bit of sweetness in there that he couldn't quite identify. As orientation ended and all the Savanaclaw students made their way to the mirror chamber, Jack's curious eyes stayed glued to your cloaked form.

🍐 Coincidentally, you and Jack ended up sharing a dorm room, how nice for him. He was a bit shocked when you told him right off the bat that if he needed help or just someone to talk to you would readily lend an ear. The fact that he was bunked with such a supportive person was incredibly relieving for the wolf-eared boy. While it would take him a little while to open up to you more, considering you just met, Jack would be sure to act on your offer in the future.

🍐  Jack loves exercising with you! After learning about your previous status as a general before your enrollment in the NRC, he requested to know your exercise routine during that time, to which you happily agreed. You both have a habit of waking up at the crack of dawn and going for a run which made you decide to ask him to accompany you instead of heading out separately. Your skills with a bow and arrow also caught Jack's attention, often watching you practice and occasionally catching glimpses of a certain weird Pomefiore third-year hiding in the bushes.

🍐 During one particularly hot day, you and Jack ended up staying in your shared dorm room after class instead of going outside or to the dorm's indoor gym to exercise; far too hot to will yourselves to move. This is when the wolf beast-man learned of your shared habit of your extra appendages giving away your emotions, your orange-brown, and white ears drooping with exhaustion from the heat. When Jack suggested going to the dorm kitchen and making smoothies, he had to hold back a chuckle at how your ears perked up and how your tail began to sway. Although, when you saw where his gaze was directed you grew embarrassed and covered your butt with a pillow.

🍐 Speaking of sweet things, Jack discovered that his dorm mate had a fondness for sweets, he remembered you mentioning that you didn't get them very often while you were a general. He actually whipped up some pear jam on toast for you once to see what you thought about the taste and was happy that he found a fellow pear enjoyer in you. You did tell him that your favorite fruit was something called lavender melon, a tree fruit that was native to the cluster of islands that you grew up on. The fruit was on his mind for a while after that, Jack may or may not have made plans to eat it with you in the future.

🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[loveyouprongs]

hope we grow old, but we never grow up

james potter x fem!reader

upcoming content: fluff! mentions of reader being anxious in crowds, mentions of just having had sex but not smut, mentions of alcohol. lmk if you think i missed anything :)

authors note: i hope you like this! i’m still new to writing, so i tried my best! inspired by one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite artists: never grow up by niall horan!🎶 despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

word count: 2.8k

masterlist

“I hope we still dance like we're fallin' in love, Hope we still drink like we're back in the pub”

the noise inside the pub was so loud you could feel the floor shake beneath your feet, or maybe it was just your brain making it up. you were getting jostled and a man elbowed your shoulder, causing the cranberry juice in your cup to slosh over the edge. a sharp gasp escaped your lips that you were sure would get lost in the rowdy atmosphere but james quickly snapped his head to look back at you, eyes trailing down to the red liquid dripping down your hand.

“y’alright, sweetness?” big, brown eyes peering at you as the hustle and bustle of the crowd moved on around you both.

“i’m good,” you said back softly, squeezing his hand that had been tightly grasped in yours since the moment you both walked in. today was the final match of the rugby championship and everyone in town was together to watch in anticipation… and drink, no matter the outcome. james had sweetly invited you out with his friends a few nights ago and you of course said yes. the two of you had begun dating a few weeks ago, and you were eager to learn everything about him and spend as much time as possible with him, even if it meant trudging through sweaty, drunk bodies, resisting the urge to cover your ears.

“sirius got here early so he got a table for us already, we’re almost there,” james assured, squeezing your hand back. as you neared the large booth tucked away in the corner, the weight in your chest lifted at the sight of remus rolling his eyes at whatever sirius was saying, waving his hands expressively.

“they’re here! finally!” marlene squeaked and everyone’s eyes turned towards the two of you and they started making room for you both in the booth. you couldn’t stop the tingly feeling in your chest at how easily they accepted you in their tight-knit group.

“mate, where the fuck have you been?’ sirius exclaimed, slapping a hand on james back.

“if you couldn’t tell, he’s already had a bit to drink,” remus muttered in your ear as you leaned in for a half hug around him. when you first met, you were sure he didn’t like you despite james’ reassurances that he was just a quiet person naturally. you understood that, being quite shy yourself, but you still desperately wanted his friends to like you. so when you instinctually gave him a soft hug for the first time and he didn’t pull away, even initiating it the next time you saw him, you were sure you and remus were becoming good friends.

“oh, i’m sure,” you responded, eyes widening at the collection of empty pint glasses that littered the table.

“what’s the score?” james asked, cleaning his glasses against his sweater with one hand, squinting up at the screen, the other stayed wrapped around yours, even though you were both sitting comfortably.

“not good jamesie, why’d y’think i’ve been drinking so much already?” sirius said, taking another swig of his beer.

throughout the night james was intensely focused on the match, going between not even breathing as he stared at the screen to groaning or shouting with sirius whenever his team made a play. you were fine with the fact that he wasn’t paying much attention to you, knowing this game was so important to him, and you and marlene were catching up anyway.

“y’having a good time, honey bee?” james asked, looking down at you for the first time in a while, his large arm wrapping around your shoulders, warmth immediately overtaking you. you could tell he’s well past tipsy, eyes alight with bubbly frivolity.

“honey bee? that’s new”

“‘cus you’re so sweet,” his hand that wasn’t grabbing at your shoulder came up to stroke your cheek and you were sure he could feel it warming up under his touch. the subsequent smirk that crawled across his face affirmed your theory, all adoring if not a tad smug, but he was charming enough to get away with it.

“i am having a good time, yeah, i mean, i don’t really understand what’s going on but it’s cute seeing you so focused.”

james laughed and you felt his chest rumble against your cheek as he tugged you in closer, “mm, it’s probably good that you don’t anyway, we’re getting absolutely shitted on.”

“it’s only half time, it can still turn around!” sirius slurred emotionally with his head in his hands, a lot like the other patrons in the bar disappointed at the team's performance.

“keep telling yourself that, mate,” remus said, patting his back pitifully, still reading his book.

“you want another drink? i can go get you one,” james offered and you shook your head, preferring to stay relatively sober so james could have as much fun as he wanted. “you’ll let me know if you do though, right? anything you want, i’ll do it for you.”

for the umpteenth time tonight, and for the millionth time in your relationship so far, james made your heart stop as he looked down at you with his unwavering gaze. you knew he was only offering to navigate the crowded bar for you, knowing your aversion to crowds, but such a declaration paired with the tightness of his grip around your shoulders, how you could feel his heart beat against the soft of your arm if you focused enough. something about this moment, tucked away in a pub booth, felt like it was the beginning of forever.

“i know,” you breathed out softly and james lips quirked up in a small smile, as if instinctively, and with a single nod and press of his lips to your head before he turned back to the screen, you knew he felt the same way.

in a way that could only be described as a miracle, the team pulled through and as the reporters announced a home win, the crowd erupted in cheers. “praise be to god!” sirius cried, reaching for remus’ pint while remus tried to keep him away. he’d been cut off around thirty minutes ago when he attempted to throw marlene’s purse at the screen.

“sit down! you’re not even religious!” remus sighed, wrangling in his wild friend. you could only smile as remus tried to feign annoyance but couldn’t help but laugh when sirius started pressing congratulatory, sloppy kisses to his cheek.

“i can’t believe it!” james cried, wrapping his arms around your front, your back pressed to his chest as he towered over you. you were still sat in the booth but james had stood up five minutes before the match ended, pacing to get his nervous energy out.

you titled your head back to look up at him, genuine happiness radiating off his large form. “that was incredible!”

he looked down at you with a beaming grin, “it definitely was! did you see that last play? blimey, can’t believe we pulled it off!”

as he spoke you twisted on your butt to face him, and he caged you in between his spread thighs. “i know! i don’t know how they do it, i would get so tired- oh!”

you were no longer sitting, now fully upright with your feet dangling off the floor, arms tightly strewn around james’ neck as he lifted you in a hug. you could feel his hair tickle your cheek as he tucked his face into your neck. he spun you both around in staggering circles, having to stop when he felt the alcohol quickly begin to travel back up his stomach.

james couldn’t believe how perfect today was. his favorite team winning, surrounded by his friends, and at the center of it all was you. like a figurine from a snow globe come to life, so charming and sweet. so open to becoming friends with his friends, liking what he likes; he still doesn’t know how or why you agreed to a date with him, nonetheless put your trust in his rough hands, but he could only hope that soon he could carry your heart, and you his.

“this whole day is incredible,” he said, lips brushing against your ear as he set you down.

your guys’ bubble was popped when marlene shook your shoulders, not quite as gone as everyone else, but getting there as sangria glossed her lips “babes do you hear this?!” she let out loudly and you tuned back into reality, music now blasting through the speakers as the patrons danced and sung along happily.

“sorry to steal her from ya, but this is our song!” marlene slurred winking up at james who only shook his head and watched you get dragged to the middle of the makeshift dance floor and jump about with the other girls.

“to doing this all next year?” remus spoke, handing james a glass of water, with one for himself as well.

james chuckled and watched as sirius infiltrated your dance circle, horribly attempting to break dance, but you’d never guess based off of the encouraging woops! and wows! from you and the girls hyping him up.

james could do this again next year, and the year after that, he’d quite like it, he thinks.

“I think that we could be like that, every single Sunday in our Sunday best. Laughin' over nothin' with a full wine glass.”

“honey bee, i’m hopeless with this,” james grumbled, giving up on his tie and falling back against the bed. at your silence he rolled on his side to catch a glimpse of your face through the mirror. your lips twisted at the side, surely holding in a laugh you refused to grant him with, not wanting him to know he’s softening you up again.

“it might help if you button your shirt first,” you said, finally turning to face him. even with his face half squished against the mattress and hair sticking up in all directions he was still the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

his eyes slowly grazed up your figure, body he was just ravaging now covered in soft, flowy blue fabric, and your hair was tied up neatly with a bow. James let out a low whistle, heat immediately rising to your cheeks, “well would y’look at you,” he mumbled as if he was speaking to himself, “s’ gorgeous.”

you took a minute to collect yourself, shaking your head at how he still made you this flustered this far into your relationship. “thank you, love. you could look beautiful too if you got dressed.” you now sat primly on the sheets beside him, stroking his cheek.

“too tired,” he said, voice low as he engulfed the hand of yours on his cheek in his and brought it to his lips, “you really wore me out, baby.”

“james!” you chastised, trying to pull your hand away fruitlessly. he smirked against it and pressed a final kiss to your palm.

“what? you did! absolutely mindblowing! that thing y’ did with your hips… oh baby!” he moaned and you slapped a hand against his chest, walking back over to the mirror.

“clearly i didn’t hold up my end of the bargain if you’re able to get dressed s’ fast, lemme make it up to you, honey.”

“no!” you squeaked, quickly gathering your make up and running to the bathroom, james’ laugh echoing behind you. any more talk like that and he actually would convince you to go back to bed with him for another round. but you promised you’d go to marlene’s birthday dinner and you were really looking forward to it. in the back of your mind, you knew it was a mistake to get tangled up in the sheets so close to when you had to leave, knowing james could be absolutely insatiable when he wanted to, but you couldn’t resist!

for the next few minutes, you both got ready in silence. you applying light mascara and blush, and james trying to manage his hair. “need a haircut soon,” he said breaking the silence as he reached over you in the bathroom.

“me too, i think. but i like your hair long.”

“i know you do,” james remarked back, a haughty smirk donning his features once again, falling into a pure smile as you playfully rolled your eyes. as he combed some product into his thick locks you took in his appearance, a plain white t-shirt that hugged his muscles and framed his arms in a way that made you question if he was really from this earth or a Greek god, and fitted slacks, you recognized as the one’s you bought him a few months earlier, after claiming he had no nice going out clothes aside from jeans and the one tuxedo he had for a friends wedding.

“you look really nice, james” you said and he cast his gaze down to you through the mirror.

“thank you, sweetness,” he said back and two sentences, as simple as that, caused the love in the room to blow up like a balloon. the sultry, teasing energy from before now a pure adoration that hung in the air.

“we’re a good looking couple, aren’t we,” james said as you both finished, now looking at the two of you in the mirror.

a startled laugh escaped you, “i suppose we are,”

“no wonder i always want us to be having sex, i mean who could blame me!” james exclaimed, walking to the door, keys jingling in his hand.

“please get it all out now before we get to marlene’s, this is supposed to be a classy party!”

“oh, alright! but i’ll remember this when you’re grabbing at me later,” he said, holding open the car door for you.

“we’ll see about that.”

the sun was beginning to set, casting marlene’s back garden in an orange glow. she set up tables and chairs, all holding delicious food and wine, and fairy lights were strung along the awning.

“marls this looks amazing! happy birthday!” you said, giving her a hug.

“thank you! i love your dress! potter… you cleaned up nicely,”

“it was hard to find a clean shirt, but this one passed the smell test, didn’t it, love?” he joked back, twin gags coming from you and marlene before the three of you erupted into laughter.

“i want you to come meet my best friend at work, she’s so nice!” marlene said and in a flash you both were gone, pastel skirts flowing in the wind.

“‘bout time you got here!” sirius called, hugging james, “was starting to thing you wouldn’t show,”

“sorry, got caught up at home…”

remus rolled his eyes, already knowing what was coming.

“…if you know what i mean,” james finished, wiggling his eyebrows, eating up sirius’ wolf whistles and high fives.

“you keep us oddly informed of your sex life, you know that mate?” remus asked, pushing off james’ hand that took purchase in his hair.

“what else are brothers for?”

“ugh!” remus groaned.

“are they bothering you, rem?” you asked, pulling up a chair at their table.

“aren’t they always?” james and sirius let out matching offended scoffs as you laughed.

“y’always take remus’ side, ‘s not fair!” james whined.

“i have to! it takes two of us to watch over the two of you!”

“exactly,” remus laughed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“well in that case, the two of you can stay here, while jamesie and i settle a bet,” sirius said, mischievously, lighting the adrenaline in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“do i want to know?” you asked james, who sent you a blinding smile.

“siri here thinks he’s faster than me. than me! can you believe him?” james said, stretching his calf. his thighs were hugged wonderfully in his trousers and you quickly darted a glance at marlene’s beautiful -yet muddy- garden.

“have to prove him wrong, don’t i?”

“yeah, you can’t be datin’ a loser, a slow one at that!” sirius retaliated and you knew there’s no way you could talk him out of it then.

“just make sure to be careful of your nice clothes, love,” you pleaded, “you look so handsome, the last thing you need is to be covered in grass stains.”

“promise, i’ll try my best honey bee,” james said back, cupping your cheeks so your lips squished together and pressing a kiss atop them.

“c’mon let’s get this race started! or are you scared, pretty boy?” sirius egged and james ran up besides him. as the boys took off you knew it was only a matter of time before it resulted in a friendly yet frantic wrestling match, as most of their competitions did. so you captured the image of your tall, broad-shouldered boyfriend, dressed like he just came out of a catalog, running under the setting sun in your head now to look back on fondly. his childish giggles carried throughout the air and you had a pathetic smile on your face despite yourself.

“you’ll just have to hose him off before you get in the car,” remus said, content with sitting with you, watching your loved one's mess about, truly happy.

“it’s my own fault for thinking he could keep a white shirt clean.”

[just-a-ghost00]

Where is your path taking you?

Images are from Pinterest. I do not own them. The decks used for this reading are the following : Crystals oracle to determine the imagery representing each groups energy, Threads of fate oracle shadow edition, below the surface oracle, White Numen tarot.

Group 1 - Meteorite - Connect to your "star stuff"

If you were drawn to the meteorite, you might consider yourself a starchild. You may have a fascination for stars, astronomy and astrology, science fiction and alien theories. You may find it difficult to connect with people and feel like you belong in a group. You may struggle with your sense of identity. The meteorite oracle card states the following :

" When to use it : When you're looking to conduct more spiritual energy, try Nickel-Iron meteorite. When you're looking to chat with a friend in another galaxy, go with Chrondrite meteorite. When you want to feel aligned to that universal energy that pulsates through everything, try Pallasite meteorite." It feels like you're doubting whether you'll ever find people that are on the same wavelength as you. Well, good news for you. You're getting closer to your soul fam. As you're intuition and connection to the universe are getting stronger, you're able to sense people with whom you may match or your magnetism is doing the trick for you, since you're raising your vibrations. This card also tells me that you may be deepening your connection to the spiritual realm. I'm especially picking up on your ancestry.

Now let's take a look at your other cards. You got the card n° 35 from Below the surface oracle : Oarfish - Be the bigger person. Your kindness is your strength. Here your spirit team is reassuring you on your ability to love and be loved. They're asking you to trust yourself and your qualities. You also got the card n° 34 : Titan triggerfish - Your bold side. Make the first move. Oarfish is a very long fish that adapts well in the depths of oceans. It seems that in different cultures, it is a symbol of misticism, intuition and inner work. It invites you to uncover hidden talents and truths that will help you on your journey. The titan triggerfish is known to be quite protective of its territory and rather aggresive, especially during mating season. Though being bold is a great quality, it shouldn't lead to arrogance and agressivity. Looking at these two cards together, it seems like your journey is taking you to a new territory. You might start a new project, discover a new interest or find a new job that gives you the opportunity to meet your people. Other cards that you have include "dare to dream" and "self love" from the Threads of fate deck. The first card is related to air and the second to water. "Dare to dream" is an invitation to "step wildly into your dreams, to visit them often, to ask them what they need from you". The guidebook insists that though we feel like our dreams are out of reach because we don't know how to reach them, we should still pursue them as dreams coming true is a collaboration between you and the universe. "Show up forthem and they'll show up for you too". To me this also means that lucid dreaming could be a way for you to either manifest these connections faster or to help you identify them when you meet them. Pursuing a dream could very well be the door to new friendships and alliances. Have you ever dreamt of starting your own rock band or publishing a book? Now might be the time to give these dreams more substance by taking a first step towards them. On this card, an eagle's claw is depicted holding tightly to a ruby. The claw is surrounded by Buckthorn. The eagle, the buckthorn and the ruby are symbols of resilience and durability. The Eagle's energy allows you to see clearly through people and situations, to spot the connections between events and people. While the buckthorn helps you deal with external influences that might deter you from following your path, the ruby helps you with the internal factors such as self limiting beliefs. The "self love" card provides a similar meaning as it figures a magestic peacock. Your journey is leading you to a higher perception of yourself and more acceptance of your identity.

It also leads you to success, personal and material accomplishment as well as more opportunities to grow, for your last two cards are the ten of pentacles and the two of wands. On the first card can be seen three animals that resemble white dogs and on the other is a snake. These animals could be reprensentative of the energy of the people you're about to meet. You could be traveling a bit more in the future.

Group 2 - Chrysocolla - Be your own mama.

If you chose this crystal, you may feel quite vulnerable lately and emotionally overwhelmed. You may ask for external validation and help in making decisions for yourself, as you don't trust your ability to be objective and thorough in your analysis of situations and people. You might be in a state of confusion and exhaustion because of someone or something going on in your life. You may feel anxious about the future. Your path is taking you to more control over your life and being your own parent. Meaning that you'll learn to nurture and provide for yourself. You'll learn to be your own mental and emotional suppport, as life may take you away from loved ones. Specifically, I'm picking up on the energy of students or young adults that are leaving the parental home for the first time to pursue their career or studies. It could also be that you're leaving a relationship and being single again scares you. You will be healing your heart chakra on this journey to your independence. Maybe some of you were taught at a very young age that they were unable to live on their own for some reason, that they would always need somebody else to succeed in life. These false and self limiting beliefs became your truth and made you depend on people when in reality you only needed yourself. Looking at your cards, I can tell that your path is taking you to reclaiming your power. Your cards from Below the surface deck are the following : n°23 Coconut Octopus - You're on the right path. Keep going through the in-betweens. n°14 Giant oceanic manta ray - Life is a marathon. Don't burn yourself out in one sprint. I get a strong feeling here that you were manipulated and belittled by people around you, made to feel like you were incompetent or even unstable. That you were worthless, untrustworthy, following the wrong path. Your spirit team is begging you to wake up. "You're not crazy, they are" is what I heard. Your gut feelings are accurate. Your vision of yourself and the world is accurate. Your opinion is valid. You have to keep pushing and keep going. Don't doubt yourself, your skills or your intent. Your mind is clear. People want you to belive otherwise because they are scared of your light, your influence and your power. You mirror back to them their BS and it makes them uncomfortable. The reality is that they dispise themselves more than they dislike you. You have done nothing wrong. Your journey is thus taking you back to clarity and to your inner truth. The octopus is a very clever creature. Its brain functions in ways that are so complex even humans fail to grasp its potential. Your energy is so intense and deep people fear it. You are not to be blamed for their inability to grasp your potential. The giant manta ray invites you to slow down and meditate, to take a few steps back in order to see the bigger picture. It is a symbol of healing, adaptability and focus, as the manta ray is a swift navigator that knows where its going and never loses sight of its destination. The manta ray is also called the "devil fish". People have been misinterpreting its nature which could be something that oftens happen to you. The manta ray highlights the importance of choosing your source of help wisely, if you ever feel the need for external support.

Following these cards are "fate" and "The Magi" from the Threads of fate deck. These two cards are related to the element of Ether. There's a quality to you that people can't grasp. They can't put you in a box basically because you were never meant to fit in one. You are meant to expand and grow beyond anything they could even comprehend. Your path will lead you to great manifestation and a better sight. You could be among the people whose influence in life will be meaningful and well known. You could find your calling in spiritual and divination practices such as tarot, pendulum or chiromancy. Fate and Magi card remind me of Doctor Strange and the multiverse. Similarly to this character, your path may lead you to the awakening of the ability to consider all alternatives and roads to achieve one goal, but also to predict which are likely to be more successful. These cards remind you of the importance of boundaries and the power our actions and words hold. Especially the power and meaning of saying no. The fate card figures an egg resting on a pillow while the Magi shows a hand supporting an eye. It feels like you are currently incubating but soon you will hatch and be able to see the world clearly with your third eye.

Your last two cards are The Chariot and The Empress. The energy of these cards feel welcoming but also extremely powerful. Your path is leading you to stepping into your feminine and leading your life with dignity and grace. The Empress here is depicted as being active contrary to traditional tarot. She stands proud and ready to battle with anyone that would try to dethrone her. She is fierce and with the Chariot in her shadow, she is a force to be reckoned with. She knows where she's heading and will not stop until she reaches her destination. The energies of Cancer and Taurus accompany you on your journey. The Venusian energy of Taurus will help you attract love and nurturing experiences. The lunar energy of Cancer will help you see beyond the veil and understand the threads of fate and their intricate design. You will slowly but surely become the Weaver of your life. Like a manta ray, you will swiftly navigate through shallow waters and like a spider weave your way through the lies and deceit people might want to trap you in.

Group 3 - Rhodochrosite - Soften your heart.

If you selected this group, you may be going through a break up or mourning the loss of a loved one. A situation that was important to you might have ended unexpectedly which left you feeling lost and resenting what was happening. Rhodochrosite is to be used when your heart hurts. It reminds you that though you're hurting, you will heal and love again when you are ready. Your path is leading you to forgiveness and acceptance of that which you can no longer change. It will lead you to detachment and renewal in matters of the heart. The card n°18 from the Below the surface deck is associated with the broadclub cuttlefish. It states : rapid changes, let your flexibility serve you. The following card is the n° 12 represening the ambon damselfish. It states : don't be afraid of your voice, your opinion matters. These two cards suggest that this state of mourning won't last too long. You will quickly be presentend with new romantic opportunities or new projects and spirits are reassuring you. You will be able to move on and start anew. When these opportunity rise, don't be afraid to step in the light and let yourself be seen. The cuttlefish and the damselfish are both very unique and bright. They live in deep waters and can adapt pretty well to their environment. Like these two species, you are resilient and can make your way back to the top pretty quickly. Your other cards tell me that any limiting belief regarding love and relationships will be purged, as you have the destruction card followed by the versatility card. It was important that you do through this experience as it was meant to bring to light the toxicity and limits of your reality. Destruction is associated with fire whereas versatility is related to air. The versatility card reminds you that timing is very important and that forcing a situation to be when the timing is not right will only hinder your growth. It asks you how you can shift what is already existing in order to progress or to consider moving on when no solution can be found. Your path will lead you to a spiritual "spring cleaning". You will be going through your life, your possessions and relationships and ask yourself whether you truly need them now. You will be reassessing the value of your environment, your beliefs, your routines. Your approach to dating and entertaining relationships will be complitely different afterwards.

Ultimately, your path leads you to a new offer. An opportunity to be the main role in your life instead of a spectator. The knight of pentacles and The Emperor bring a message of patience and faith. You have to trust that at the right time and in the right place, what is meant for you will find you and you will be able to recognize it. They also invite you to be clear on your intentions. Especially if you consider dating again. Make sure you are clear on what you expect from a relationship, what you appreciate or what triggers you. Be mindful though of the power you exert over your life. Allow yourself to receive but do not shy away from your responsibilities. Your next partner may be a little bit controlling but also guarded. They need to take things slow and can be quite stubborn. But they will also teach you how to ground yourself and be in the present moment, not to burn any steps and feel things through to ensure you are on the right track. The signs of Aries and Taurus could be significant.

[forthelostones]

sev x bff!reader (nsfw, 18+) 🧚🏾‍♂️

loosely proof read. wrote on my phone. first sevika writing.

you and sev have been mates for a long time. after a good training session or a meeting, you’d meet up for a smoke and a drink or two. but the way she looked at you this night seemed a little different. her eyes were full of an identifiable glare of curiosity as if she hadn't known you for ages.

“great session today. you kicked my ass.” she chuckled, expelling smoke from her nostrils, nearly shouting over the bass in the music.

“yeah, what’s new.” you sipped some dark liquor from a gauntlet.

“haven’t had a lady handle me like that in … well, ever.” she smirked.

the look in her eyes was dark and mischievous. secretly, you had always found sevika very attractive. her umber skin and toned body left you speechless fairly often. you often thought about her when you were alone and desperate for connection. coming to the thought of her voice in your ear. but you could never truly admit that to yourself.

“i’m sure you get handled just fine.” you nudge, pulling the cigar from her fingertips and bringing it to your own mouth, tasting her drink ever so. sevika was comfortable with you in ways that might have jumped your friend status to best friend. although sev was a busy woman, she managed to court the occasional woman. sleeping with them and that was it. she confided in you with that information and sometimes the descriptions were so vivid that you became steaming with jealousy.

“fine is not good enough,” she rolled her eyes. “i need someone to do it behind doors, y’know?”

she looked off into the distance causally, as if that wasn’t an invitation. well, it couldn't have been, could it? you ignore her usual antics.

“hm, we could find you a girl here, that won’t be hard,” you say, scanning the room.

“i’m sure you’re right. so, why don’t you come over tonight?” she takes a big gulp.

if you and sev were just friends why was her mouth leaving bruises up and down your breasts right now?

the smoky flavor of the cherry in the cigar was now littered on your skin. you were enveloped in the scent of sev — her dark skin glittered with cedar and sage body oil and so were her sheets. how many nights did she come home and lay here alone, you thought.

she trails her hand over your body, from your shoulders down to your panties and she brushes her thumb gently against your wetness. you shudder at the feeling, trying not to show her how much you're enjoying this. just like ignoring the fact of how you didn't protest when she first laid you on this bed, despite the title you gave each other. friends.

“this okay?” she whispered.

“yes, sevika.” you moan.

“good.” she smiles and that gap you’ve learned to like over the years shines from the light emitting from the city. purple and green hues made her look even more beautiful.

her lips come close to yours and you meet her halfway, pressing yourself against that delicious mouth. she feels your hips rise and fall at each gentle stroke. you fell further into the pace she set. and when you can’t take it anymore, she pulls your panties aside to circle your clit.

she was perched on your thigh, slowly riding it, fully clothed, practically begging for relief. her ass bucked upwards and tucked down to stimulate both her lips and clit against the seam of her pants. the woman was too proud to say what she wanted, so you took the initiative and somehow those training moves came to be useful.

sev was on her back, shocked at the maneuver you made, as she easily has several pounds on you. without discussion you unbuckled her pants and pulled them off, tossing them into a corner of the room. you glide your hands up her thighs, admiring her bruises and tracing her scars. you raise your hand to brush a delicate stroke against her hole. her underwear was swallowed by her cunt, drenched, and all because of you. her metallic hand clanked as she guided your wrist up toward her clit. but you weren’t aiming for instant satisfaction, she had to wait. she had to beg.

[world0fmadness]

KMF1

max verstappen x kmfdm member! reader

faceclaim: assorted but mainly lucia cifarelli

୨୧ are there any other kmfdm fans in the f1 community? timeline is all wrong obviously because kmfdm has been around for years and i know the tattoo part is a bit unrealistic but just imagine it’s a little smaller and just… shut up <3

reading music recommendations: stray bullet by kmfdm - take it like a man by kmfdm

ynln: sweet show in monaco tonight! thanks to everyone who came out, c u again soon 🕷

loveuyn: more hot yn pictures, let’s gooo

> kmfuckmeyn: her eyes in the first picture… mph

maxverstappen ✔️: amazing show!

❤️ liked by ynln

> iluvf1: max, what are you doing here? 😭

> kmfdmsux: who tf is this?

> ynsteponme: why did mother like his comment? she only usually likes sascha’s comments…

> kmfuckmeyn: someone hit this man with a broom until he leaves, i don’t like the look of him

> ynloveme: relax you guys omg 😭

saschakonietzko ✔️: yah… i’m sure you gave a very special thank you to that one very special person who was there ;)

❤️ liked by ynln

> ynln ✔️: you know it <3

> steponmeyn: sascha… who? where? when? why?

kmfdmsux: such an amazing show! can’t wait to see you guys live again someday 🖤

ynln: taking a short break from touring! loving the stray cats in monaco <3

steponmeyn: and the whole ass man? whooo?

loveuyn: who is that? is it trent?

> steponmeyn: we need to be rid of this trend x yn ship, he is literally married

kmfuckmeyn: can anyone identify the hands and legs?

> kmfdmsux: literally, we need to put a hit out on whoever that is!

> ynloveme: we’re never beating the possessive fan base allegations…

saschakonietzko ✔️: ah… wonder who that is with you?

❤️ liked by ynln

> steponmeyn: sascha FUCKING TELL US 😭

maxverstappen and ynln: soon to be mr and mrs verstappen 🖤

loveuyn: oh he came to set the record straight 😭

> steponmeyn: LITERALLY, MY GIRL! NO ONE ELSES

oldf1lvr: IM SORRY WHAT?

danielricciardo ✔️: congratulations mate! knew it wouldn’t be long before you put a ring on her finger

❤️ liked by ynln and maxverstappen

> maxverstappen ✔️: thanks mate, for everything!

❤️ liked by danielricciardo

maxontop: i don’t know who she is but i’m moving this side of max she’s bringing out 🫢

> f1forlife: no but literally! he seems so confident in these pictures…

lovememax: these pictures just altered my brain chemistry… i want them both

charlesleclerc ✔️: you’ll be wearing redbull gear to the wedding i presume?

> ynln ✔️: absolutely not

> maxverstappen ✔️: you heard the lady! no redbull at the wedding

❤️ liked by ynln and charlesleclerc

> redbullracing ✔️: 😔

lovemyf1dilfs: who is this? they’re hot…

> steponmeyn: kmfdm fans 🤝 f1 not knowing who tf the other is dating despite both being famous because these fandoms are so different

steponmeyn: max, what’s your favourite kmfdm song?

> maxverstappen ✔️: murder my heart!

❤️ liked by ynln and saschakonietzko

maxverstrapon: do i need to go back to sleep? this can’t be real right? he didn’t just announce that he’s engaged when no one even knew he was in a relationship?

> iluvf1: well, the other drivers knew…

maxverlvr: omg… this explains why he’s seemed so much happier the past few years…

lewishammy: max… i’d like to apologise, i wasn’t familiar with your game…

landontop: why do these white bread men get the baddest bitches 💔

kmfdmsux: oh that ring is so cute… i still don’t know if he’s good enough for mother but at least it’s cute

> steponmeyn: right? i’m glad he actually knows her personality so well 🥹

saschakonietzko ✔️: can’t believe you’ve actually gotten yourself tied into a knot! congratulations yn and max

❤️ liked by ynln and maxverstappen

> maxvertappen ✔️: thanks sascha!

> ynln ✔️: thank you sasch 🖤

kmfuckmeyn: we lost her to a m*n who drives in circles lol what the fuck

> ynontop: hope he dies ( not really )

> loveuyn: we’re never beating the obsessed with yn allegations…

> maxverlvr: you mf’s are crazy holy shit 😭

maxverstappen and ynln: officially mr and mrs verstappen ln!

comments on this post are limited

charlesleclerc ✔️: best cake i’ve ever had

> maxverstappen ✔️: that’s all you have to say?

> charlesleclerc ✔️: oh right! congratulations max and yn

> maxverstappen ✔️: 🙄

iluvf1: max having a more gothic wedding instead of a traditional all white church one 😭 we love to see it

danielricciardo ✔️: congratulations mate! beautiful ceremony

❤️ liked by ynln and maxverstappen

> maxverstappen ✔️: thanks mate ❤️

steponmeyn: okay… whatever… maybe they’re a little hot together, but only because yn seems to be really bringing out his personality

sebastianvettel ✔️: congratulations max and yn! very nice wedding setting - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynln and maxverstappen

> maxverstappen ✔️: thank you sebastian!

> oldf1lvr: of course the bug loving dilf would like the wedding in the woods lmao 😭

saschakonietzko ✔️: congratulations you two! great wedding

❤️ liked by ynln and saschakonietzko

> ynln ✔️: yeah… you only drank yourself to a point of wanting to make out with all of max’s friends <3

❤️ liked by maxverstappen and saschakonietzko

> saschakonietzko ✔️: ;)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

kids deserve good music

[weebsinstash]

He's not in the show yet but as a comic reader I've been thinking a lot about how ABSOLUTELY AWFUL it would be to be a human captive of the Viltrumites and, forget Mark, forget Nolan, those two would not even compare because THRAGG is the real mf you don't want to be yandere for you

I was sitting and thinking about it and like. Just. Imagine being in a relationship or platonic yandere situationship with the Grayson family and then, boom, the invasion happens. You're just a helpless little human and Nolan traps you away to keep you safe while everything you've ever known and loved is taken from you. By the time you're "let out" the Earth and most of its major cities have been all but razed and Viltrumites and their construction drones are EVERYWHERE, rebuilding what was broken, essentially erasing the history of humanity

You're now a "registered human" under the official Viltrumite occupation of Earth. You have to wear an identification badge that can be scanned to identify you, to designate which Viltrumite you belong to, like some cat with a collar tag, and it also tracks your location at all times. Humans have extremely limited rights, and Nolan and Mark heavily restrict which other humans you can interact with because the occupying forces don't want some kind of rebellion (mostly though Mark and Nolan just couldn't risk any dumb humans putting any silly ideas in your head and getting you hurt when this life is good for you after all :( and what if some nasty little rebel tried to kiss you--)

But I just. I just picture Reader being Nolan's mate and at some point, you're sitting in your completely Viltrum-constructed home with Viltrum robots and androids that cook and clean and do everything for you and completely take away all your usefulness and agency for yourself when, someone comes to visit. Another Viltrumite you recognize from the broadcasts on TV. All you understand is that he's Nolan's boss on some level or another, and he came to speak with Nolan, but since the man isn't here, all his questions are directed to you

Can you even imagine you're like sitting there already suicidal and in comes Thragg asking why you aren't pregnant yet, like literally wanting actual fucking details about why you haven't bore a single child despite being with Nolan for a few years. I'm talking complete dehumanization as Thragg is asking you TO YOUR FACE how often you're having sex with Nolan, which positions, what do you do in bed, acting like you're doing something wrong. He asks what you do after mating and you just kind of start to reply and he sort of smirks, "you can still walk afterward?" And he seems grossly smug about it, but, this is a very threatening conversation to you. You have a man who could reduce you to paste at any moment and completely take away any luxury or privilege you and Nolan have and he's asking you extremely intimate questions you have to answer through ground teeth and at some point I'm sure he starts on about, "your duty as a woman"

Nolan comes home completely unaware that Thragg has been there and you're still sobbing on your hands and knees as you literally scrub the spotless floors by hand because Thragg told you what a submissive little servant you're expected to be as a lowly human woman and Nolan is trying to comfort you and your hands and fingers are literally pruning from cleaner as you keep crying and refuse to stop "because it's not good enough, it's not good enough"

At some point Nolan and Thragg get into it. Nolan is sent off on some mission that he very slightly underperformed on, or maybe he actually made a really huge tactical error, and here's Thragg, deciding to punish Nolan by. Taking you. Just straight up taking you away from Nolan like you're some kind of privilege he has been allowed and YEAH it is to be a servant/mate for Thragg himself. And Nolan makes a big fuss about how he's one of the ones who helped even conquer this damn rock, how dare the Grand Regent take his mate, but Thragg doesn't care and even if other Viltrumites who serve under him disagree, as you know he rules with such an iron fist that none dare to speak up

Can you even imagine you were with Nolan for like 5 years overall with never so much as a pregnancy scare and Thragg has you for like two months and boom, you're pregnant, in fact you're INSANELY pregnant, you've got TWINS, and for you noncomic readers, Viltrumite DNA is literally so aggressive that twins are literally quite literally unheard of because they cannibalize in the womb or only the strongest lives so, now you've presented Thragg with these nice shiny new little trophies he can self aggrandize over. The first Viltrumite twins in the entire history of their culture, and they're Thragg's

(Something something "what if thragg was having birth control put in your food so you wouldn't become pregnant by Nolan before he could manufacture an excuse to take you for himself" something something)

I also think like. Thragg had the twins in the comics, Ursaal and Onaan, so like. What if he already had the twins when you're taken from Nolan and you give him TRIPLETS. Like. Jesus not only is your fate sealed, you're going in the goddamn Viltrum history books as some sort of magical womb the oh so virile Grand Regent Thragg managed to conquer for himself idk 🙄🙄🙄

But I think it's just the concept of. Such a monstrously violent and cold dude realizing he has uncontrollable feelings for you and they're like FEELINGS FEELINGS, but he literally doesn't know how to act so he's being. Like. Kind of just blatantly shitty and abusive most of the time. You give him any lip and he's got his hands on your throat and threatening you but internally he's like. Turned on by your spice. He wishes you were a Viltrumite so he could be rougher with you. You two have a rare argument where you get those oh so rarely seen guts to talk down to him and later that night he's putting you in your place underneath him fucking you like he's trying to get another brood of children out of you

Think of just the little ways he could show affection which is completely foreign to him and he like doesn't even realize his own behavior and is rationalizing it as something else. He sees you talking to Ursaal one day, combing her hair, telling her that she could potentially consider cutting her hair as males tend to grab it as a battle tactic and he feels a little warmth in his chest as Ursaal dutifully nods "Yes Mother" and Onaan is lurking around the corner, jealous. Thragg forces you to make public appearances with him and you learn how to temper your emotions better, and you'll be brought along to school functions for the children, like Thragg smirking internally as you scold Onaan that he lost a scheduled fight because he's arrogant and wasn't properly paying attention to his opponents

You're forcibly assimilated deeper into Viltrumite culture, but you're also humanizing the Viltrumites you interact with. Ursaal and Onaan realize that they deeply desire more affection and support as children and become fiercely protective of you because you actually treat them with kindness. Thragg can act indifferent to you at best but one day you realize that you have significantly more privileges as his mate than Nolan's and you march off to Thragg's place of work because maybe the twins wanted you to see where they work with their father and you're brought into Thragg's office and he's as stonefaced as ever while you're like. Surrounded by photos of yourself just all over the place. The one on his desk directly in front of him isn't even one of you smiling, it's you scowling with a glare and looking pissed and apparently that one is his favorite. And Thragg is like not even bothered by you seeing all these photos, and his kids are just completely nonchalant like this is all totally normal, "oh, Father, you had a memorial photo made from where you and Mother visited my school, I like this one--" as if these uh collages have been up for quite some time, some maybe even taken from security cameras from your time with Nolan--

I just picture like. Can you imagine the triplet scenario and you wind up giving Thragg Mark, Ursaal, and Onaan, and you bond more with Mark as a late bloomer and the one who is the most human and his siblings are getting monstrously jealous and Thragg doesn't want his legacy tied to a weak powerless Viltrumite, like this man would rather have Mark be dead than not have powers, and Thragg is trying to force you and Mark apart. Can you even conceive like, being a mom and you walk into the room and your son is being absolutely brutalized by his father who is convinced he is hiding his powers or something and you have to shield your own son from his father before he kills him. Could you EVEN IMAGINE Thragg going to throw Mark off of whatever cyberpunk skyscraper nightmare you're living in because he's convinced the panic will make his boy finally learn how to fly and you have to watch as he just drops your (favorite) child off the building and Mark ... never comes back up. Thragg just sees how absolutely devastated you are and convinces himself it's because you're emotional and weak and just casually, "we can make another" (although I imagine in this scenario Mark was saved by Nolan and the two train and eventually basically spearhead a rebellion against Thragg and his empire and rescue you and restore Earth, but, whatever lmao)

I feel like as a general thing, yandere Thragg would often indulge in and enjoy the fact you couldn't deny him sex, because even if you try to deny him, what are you gonna do, overpower him? So he uses it to assert control over you. You snap at him or mouth off, you're getting railed that night to remind you how powerless you are, that you're still his mate. You two have a nasty fight where you legitimately manage to wound his pride, you're getting fucked near unconscious and you're essentially "grounded" for the next few days if not weeks where you aren't allowed to leave your home (maaaaybe because you've managed to make him insecure that his little mate doesn't like him 👉👈 he can't have anyone else steal you away, not when you're making him feel all these powerful emotions he doesn't even know what to call)

You're not even aware of it but the surveillance systems in your home are being CONSTANTLY tuned into all the time, if not by him, then by his own children who are tasked with watching you. I also feel like having the kids on the mix kind of makes everything kind of grotesque. Like imagine you just wake up and you're going by your business one day and you walk into the room and Thragg has your like 5 year old toddlers gathered around a table with knives and weapons on it and you hear little Mark say, "all these things can hurt Mom?" "They can" "even though they're so soft?" "Only to Viltrumites like us" "Mother is really that... weak?" And you realize Thragg is turning your own children into weapons to use against you, watch you, report back to him, because... your kids aren't like you. They're Viltrumites like him and he'll be damned if you make them 'too soft'

But I imagine a day comes when he's forced to at least semi-confront these feelings. Ursaal and Onaan are dedicated little soldiers to him, but also seem to respect your authority as their mother, something Thragg also sometimes encourages (since your "rank" as their mother earns a certain degree of respect and he's trying to teach them to respect the chain of command, even if you are a soft human). Ursaal and Onaan take a mission to another planet with their father and they return and Onaan has a gift for you, an alien flower he thought you might like, something he took without telling his father, but. He doesn't realize there's something wrong with it, something that wouldnt bother a Viltrumite but would definitely harm a human. The second you touch the plant, the second some of its pollen touches your akin, enters your lungs, you start becoming ill, very, very, very ill.

Thragg is trying to tell himself you're just another mate to him, just another bearer of his many many many children that he has no emotional attachments to, but the second he receives word that you might ACTUALLY BE DYING like genuinely actually fucking dying, there's no hesitation. The next time you open your eyes, you're in a Viltrum-run hospital in a lavish sanitized room receiving ONLY the best of care as Thragg is sitting in a chair beside your bed staring directly at you as if he had been staring at your unconscious body perhaps the entire time you were asleep. There's almost a visible relaxation of his posture as you're able to hold a conversation with him, but, his voice is, lowered but firm as he tells you you have yet to fully recover, that you're in isolation to reduce the risk of foreign pathogens. He feels the need to tell you in detail how severely Onaan was beaten for almost costing you your life, almost as if he's seeking your approval, some sort of forgiveness. You ask him how long he's been sitting there and he just deflects and tells you you're still too weak to hold a conversation and to conserve your strength, that the two of you can speak later.

Once you've recovered, it doesn't even seem like he's that interested in sex anymore, but the notoriously sturdy Viltrumite is suddenly returning home much more often now, if only to hold you as you sleep in the marital bed you share with him....

I guess as one final, final suggestion, I can't get over like. Is there an upper limit on the whole "oh you had Viltrum DNA but it just didn't kick in yet" thing. Could you imagine like, once the Viltrum invasion has begun and you're "acquired" for either Nolan or Thragg or whomever, you're scanned or whatever by Viltrum tech and they're like "oh hey what up, Viltrumite DNA detected? Dope?" And maybe it could even be "weak" like from a grandparent or something but, it inevitably "kicks in" and now you have to confront all the new caveats this brings with you. You're expected to live as a Viltrumite now. Maybe Thragg seems to find you a little less pathetic and personally wants to train you himself because he doesn't want the most publicly visible and famous of his mates to be weak. Also just maybe he's glad he can have rougher sex with you. I can just imagine he's forcing you two to have some sort of spar amd you have some sort of natural aptitude or higher than average strength and you wind up really giving him at least ONE really good fucking punch to the face and he's wrestling you down, pinning you down and forcing a kiss onto you as the blood from his broken nose drips onto both of your faces, like

Yeah, anyways I have normal feelings about this series tee hee 😘

[darkfantasysworld]

Forced de-transition, 2 guys- please? One would be trans masc?

Sorry if you were hoping for a human one, the idea of a werewolf not understanding the concept of a human being trans fits so well I HAVE to make this a werewolf post… plus knots are hot. I can do a normal human one if you want though! FtM!reader x M!werewolf

I promise I'm not transphobic, forced detrans is just really hot, the idea of a trans guy being forced into being his "proper gender" even though he identifies as a male is hot idk why.

Your werewolf boyfriend, Oak, didn't exactly understand the whole trans thing, he saw you as a girl although he only ever introduced you as his mate so he had no reason to say girlfriend/boyfriend he just referred to you as his mate or by a nickname or petname. On rare occasions where he'd call you his girlfriend or something else that had 'girl' in it you'd always correct him and he'd just nod. Tonight you two were drinking at home, sitting down when he said something about you being a girl. "Baby, I'm a trans male." You responded, taking a sip of your drink, Oak was definitely tipsy and you correcting him made him growl. "You're a woman, goddamnit! You have ovaries! You have a uterus! You have a womb! You have a pussy! You're a fucking woman!" Oak yelled and grabbed your neck, this was very unlike him. "Oak! What the hell!" You tried to push his hand away but it didn't budge. "I'll prove it." Oak growled, his brown eyes filled with something you couldn't quite figure out what. "What's that supposed to mean!?" You asked, clearly scared of what he might do. Oak ripped off your clothes which made you try to push him away but he turned into his beast form and forced your legs open. You cried out, begging him to get off but he didn't listen, instead he forced his large canine cock past your folds and into your cunt, immediately thrusting into you like you were just a toy. You cried, begged him to stop, even pulled at his brown fur but he didn't stop, if anything you made him go harder. "You're a pathetic little girl. Just fucking accept it!" Oak growled, his cock leaking precum into you, indicating he was already close. You cried harder and begged him to pull out if he wanted to cum, your cries grew louder as he went faster and forcefully knotted you, spilling his seed inside of you. Oak rocked his hips more, making sure to fully drain himself in you while you cried more. "You're a female. A woman. A girl. You're not a fucking man." He growled again, one of his hands grabbed your neck again, this time he choked you and watched as you passed out.

You woke up the next morning and looked between your legs, you saw how swollen your pussy was and how red it was as well as cum leaking out of you. You cried and opened your bedside table drawer only to discover your birth control was missing. You looked at Oak's side of the bed but didn't see him, you didn't know where he went, you decided to look through his bedside table but couldn't find any of your birth control, but you did find fertility pills that looked suspiciously like birth control. You quickly put the pills back and shut the drawer before standing up on wobbly legs. You slowly made your way into the bathroom and cleaned the cum out of yourself, hoping he didn't get you pregnant. Oak walked in on you cleaning up and leaned against the door frame, his eyes filled with satisfaction. "You're a sick bastard." You said to him, your voice cracking slightly from his betrayal. Oak just let out a low chuckle and walked away, leaving you alone. You knew you had no other choice but to live with him for the time being, all of your friends were also his friends and definitely would've told him where you were staying, you sure as hell didn't want to live on the street, and it's not like you wanted to move in with family members, what would even tell them? You were also pretty much financially dependent on him, he didn't let you have a job, he took care of you… well… he did before this. You went back to bed and laid down, still sore.

It'd been a few weeks since the incident and you didn't get your period which finally gave you the courage to buy a pregnancy test, you took some money from Oak's wallet and let him know you were going to the store for groceries. You bought four different tests along with some groceries so Oak wouldn't catch on. You threw the receipt away under some stuff in the trash and hid the pregnancy tests. You took one of the tests while Oak was gone and waited for what felt like an eternity then you checked it… it was positive. You took the test to the garbage can outside and threw it as well as the box away so Oak wouldn't find them. You laid in bed that night, crying, Oak asked what was wrong multiple times and you made up some dumb excuse, you claimed a family member of yours died. Oak dropped it when you yelled at him but he knew something else was wrong. You didn't know if but he could smell your hormones changing.

As you got further along in your pregnancy Oak got more clingy and overprotective, he blamed it on his instincts and that you were getting chubbier so you were like an easy target for predators, he talked about it like you were prey that another werewolf would find tasty and try to take you from him. You blamed your weight gain and larger appetite on depression and your period, you'd even throw away menstrual products just so he thought you were on your period. You blamed hormones on your boobs suddenly growing as well and Oak put on a great act, pretending he didn't know what was actually happening. Every small argument you had with him, he'd suddenly apologize and say that you were right or pretended to suddenly understand and agree with you. You got to a point where you had to tell him the truth and he acted surprised and excited. After you told him he started buying things for a nursery, scheduled appointments for you and the baby, and practically worshipped the ground you walked on. He'd give you massages, cuddle you, rest his head on your stomach to hear the baby, and when you were finally ready to be intimate he only ever dared to perform oral on you, he didn't want his large cock to somehow break your water or something even if the doctor said he could still penetrate you. You started to accept going by feminine pronouns again since everyone calls you a girl now anyways even if you don't feel like one.