crisp night air, easing into his car and priming the engine. He'd be looking for the glow of McDonalds sign, feeling better after blowing off some much needed steam.

a slow breath, the surge of anger fading into a heavy, familiar exhaustion.

His stomach growled, and the thought of something simple and comforting crossed his mind..

"Hm- Maccas. A burger, fries, maybe even a sundae sounds perfect right now.."

Tossing on his jacket, he headed out into the -

watched it, his breath gradually slowing, claws retracting, yet the metallic scent lingered around him.

Simon let his fists fall, breathing heavy, as the punching bag swayed before him. His knuckles throbbed, raw from the workout, and blood tinged his palms where his claws had dug in. He took -

fists slamming into the bag.

Finally, as he drew back his arm one last time, he drove his fist forward with all the strength he could muster. The impact reverberated through his body, but he stood still, chest heaving, fists clenched and trembling.

The bag swung lazily in front of him, and he -

empty space.

He could feel his shoulders tightening, his breath coming out in short growls, punctuated by sharp exhales as he released every ounce of frustration and tension he’d buried deep.

For a brief moment, his mind went silent, the world around him fading into the rhythmic noise of his -

welcome, his testosterone and adrenaline stifled the pain, if anything he was burning excess fuel the only way the wolf knew how.

Each punch grew more intense, his powerful canid frame quaking with each swing. He snarled through his clenched teeth, a deep, guttural sound echoing around the -

began to burn and his breathing grew ragged. His claws instinctively unsheathed, digging into his palms as he clenched his fists tighter, the sharp pain of his own claws a grounding force.

Blood welled up beneath his nails, but he didn't care, not now. The raw, biting pain was almost -

curled back to bare his teeth as he threw another powerful punch, his knuckles aching as they slammed into the dense material. The stress of the last few days - missed payments, sleepless nights, and gnawing frustration, it all boiled over into every blow.

He didn’t stop, even as his muscles -

🎸 ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ x.

Simon stood alone in the dimly lit gym, his fists clenched and his breath heavy. The only sound was the rhythmic thud of his fists slamming into the worn leather punching bag. Every strike landed with intense force, sending the bag swinging wildly.

He snarled low, lips -

🎸 my mate said it best. mother gave me life, barber helped me live 🙏 (my hair is a mess if I don’t get cut once a month)

🎸 I don’t consider myself a vain person, but if my barber asked I would kill for him no questions asked.

🎸 maybe I’m one of your stuffed animals? you’ll never know-

it does work, in conjunction with a warm shower and lemon tea. ;; I get husky voice often ha

treat yourself

🎸 sick bearkits should be in bed, snuggled beneath like, blankets and stuffed animals.

or at least gargle salt water.

- deep breath, gathering himself, and gave her an encouraging wink before moving toward his guitar, feeling her gaze on him like a warm, supportive spotlight.

“Have I got the audiences attention~?”

moment feel just right.

Setting her down in the lounge with care, he gave a soft, lingering stroke along her cheek. "Be a good girl for me, Nixi, I need a little patience." he said with a smirk, letting his fingers trail down her arm. "Im.. still getting used to an audience." He took a -

Simon chuckled as he scooped Nixi up into his arms, carefully cradling her. "Well uh- seems I was caught then-” He murmured, voice low and warm as he held her close. He carried her with ease, her tail swaying as she settled into his hold, and he felt her gentle weight press against him, making the -

eyes from her petite form.

“Got a soft tune for you— if you’re up for it, that is.”

Simon chuckled softly, hands moving with gentle care through her fur, pulling out bits of straw as he offered an adoring nuzzle against her fluffed cheek.

“Sounds fair! Once you’re all set, I’ll, uh- grab my guitar.” He paused, brushing another stray from her coat as he sheepishly shifted his -

“Long day?.. uh- c’mere.. let me help you with the hay..”

The wolf sheepishly invited as he pat his lap a few times, setting down his guitar. A timid yet warm smile curling on his gaunt cheeks, he’d get her cleaned up.

The wolf ached for someone to claim, to cherish fiercely, with the raw intensity burning inside him. He craved the rough, primal passion only he could give, longing to be consumed by a love that matched his fire, a connection so deep it made his soul tremble.

Simon enveloped Vinnie in his arms, dragging the pooch into his embrace. He didn’t mean to smother him but.. he wanted to dote on someone tonight. The wolf gently lapped at his cheek, a soft, guttural growl resonated from his throat as a soft hum.

Worship deez.. uh- hugs..

c’mere pooch, cuddle and licking, I haven’t had a chance to groom your cheeks today.

thinks you're holding back, then so will he, because the last thing he wants is to hurt you in his excitement.

him, then how do you expect to get his blood pumping?

He's 𝐧𝐨𝐭 a masochist, he wants to feel alive, he wants an excuse to 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦 your lethargic organs, leave your legs 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, feel the adrenaline and testosterone race in his blood as he 𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 your 𝐠𝐮𝐭𝐬.

Though he has to match energy. If Simon -