#old neck commercials

[highfunctioningfleshrule63]

I always wanted to see Face Christian vs Heel Edge. Did it ever happen during his second WWE run outside that backstage segment when Christian won the ECW title?

this never happened cause the fed thought christian was a joke

[sy-on-boy]

future damianya telling their kids their story is gonna be like "yeah your mother got a bolt for me and i offered to wear the bomb around her neck and i promised to invent commercial space travel for her and we finally danced. yes in that order. yes i was six years old,"

[joeburrowshaircurl]

Victory Sunday

paring: Joe Burrow x reader

words: 1,223

warnings: mention of sex twice but not written out, & fluff

a/n: Wanted to get this out yesterday on actual victory Sunday, but things happened that delayed it. Here is a lazy day with Joe on victory Sunday after the nail biting win against the Broncos!

Your eyes opened slowly, a small groan falling from your lips as you stirred slightly, shifting your position to lie on your back and stretch. The room was dark, the early morning sky just barely turning blue through the curtains in front of the bedroom windows. Your phone said 5:00am which was your normal wake up time. But after all of the emotions that had been experienced at last nights over time win against the Broncos, you had stayed up late and your body craved more sleep. But it wasn't happening.

The victory sex with Joe had been phenomenal, your body ached in all the right ways and your mind was clear with contentment. Joe was facing away from you, having moved from his position with his arm around you at some point in the night. Carefully, you got out of bed. The last thing you wanted to do was wake Joe so early after he had long day.

After getting dressed into some leggings and one of Joe's shirts and sweatshirts, you made your way downstairs, clipping your hair up out of the way. It was time to make some breakfast. You cooked for Joe whenever you got the chance, it made you happy and brought you two closer together. It was also one of your love languages.

You hooked up your phone to the bluetooth speaker and picked out a playlist from the 1940s and 1950s that had old radio commercials mixed in with the songs. It was the perfect playlist for a relaxing morning while you got busy cooking.

You were in the middle of stirring the home fries you had cut and seasoned, gasping softly in surprise when you felt arms wrap around you and lips on your neck. "Mornin'" Joe's voice was heavy with sleep in your ear.

"Good morning." You set your wooden spoon down to be able to turn around, get on your tippy toes and wrap your arms around Joe to give him a big hug. "I was hoping you'd sleep longer." You frowned with concern as you looked up at Joe.

"I know, but you know I'm up early with you. " He caressed your side gently. Thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome, and I know." You repeated with a small smile, touching his cheek before you turned back around to stir the potato bits more so they wouldn't burn. You also turned off your speaker. "Breakfast is almost ready."

You didn't fail to notice the stiff walk that Joe made on his way over the fridge. He had been sacked 7 times last night, and had been hurting last night. But this morning it seemed on another level. "Are you going to take a bath today?" You asked as you grabbed a couple plates from the cabinet.

"Mmm maybe." Joe poured some water for you two. "I already took one last night. Could use a massage." A grin tugged at the edge of his lips as he put the water pitcher back in the fridge.

You pretended to be upset and roll your eyes but the smile didn't fade from your face as you plated all of the breakfast food you had cooked. "I'll keep that in mind, maybe later." You wanted to tease him and keep him guessing. He knew exactly what you were doing. If he let you be there to help with his recovery, you would always eagerly help. And he knew that too.

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

The day had been slow and relaxing with light work outs and catching up on movies. Joe had also gotten his massage to ease his stiffness, and Joe had treated you with sex afterwards as a thank you. Then it was time for football watching in the afternoon with snacks. You and Joe were curled up on the couch with a blanket over both your laps as you watched the days games, his fingers running through your hair as you stayed close to him. Once in a while one, or both of you would sit up suddenly or exclaim after a play or a flag. Football was something that had brought you together when you were friends in the beginning.

The Colts lost their game against the Giants which gave you more hope that the Bengals would make it to the playoffs. But there was still the Steelers game and the Dolphins and Broncos needing to lose. The Steelers game was going to particularly stress you out, but you wanted to enjoy this slow day with Joe before the madness started.

"What do you want for dinner?" You asked after you checked the time.

"What about take out from Jeff's?" His favorite steakhouse, usually reserved for special occasions but you weren't going to turn down the opportunity.

"Sounds good to me." You grabbed your phone off the side table to bring up the online ordering. Once you picked what you wanted, you handed it to Joe and got up to grab your wallet so you pay at the restaurant when you picked the food up. What you didn't know was that he was already paying for dinner with his card and was having it delivered instead.

"Can you grab my ipad please on the way back?" Joe called out to you to stall you. He was able to order in time and get rid of the tab on your phone before he sat back, happy with himself.

"Did you get what you want?" You asked as you handed him is iPad, not even thinking to check your phone. You had nothing to hide and trusted Joe to complete the check out since it wasn't the first time you had done this.

"Yep, I'll set." He watched you as you went to grab your shoes, it would take some time to get to the restaurant downtown. "I'll come with you, let me just change." He called out before he ran upstairs. He wasn't actually going to change but he needed to pretend to, and he took his sweet time too, which annoyed you even more.

"Joe come on, the food is going to be cold by the time we get there!" You yelled up the stairs after he hadn't come back down in a while. Then you spotted lights outside the driveway which made you nervous. "Was Ja'Marr or Tee supposed to come and you didn't tell me?" it wasn't abnormal for them to come over and talk about work.

"Yeah should be them!" He called back before he grinned and made his way out of the bedroom while you answered the door, surprised to see a delivery driver from Jeff Ruby's.

"Oh! I l must have chosen delivary by mistake instead of pick up. Let me pay you." You opened your wallet that you had been holding since you had gotten it while Joe had been ordering.

"All taken care of." The driver smiled as he handed the bag over. "Have a great night, enjoy!" You were baffled as the driver turned to walk back to their van.

"T-thank you!" You called you hurriedly, not wanting to forget your manners before you shut the door, wondering if you had paid but thought you hadn't. Then you saw Joe with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face as he made his way over to you to take the bag.

"I paid." He kissed your cheek as he pried the bag gently out of your grip, the shock still on your face. "Felt like treating my girl."

His girl.

The words made your legs feel like jello. No one had treated you like this before. "Now let's get our food and get back to football watching." You were sucked back into reality by Joe's words as you slowly followed him into the kitchen, your brain still spinning. What had you done to deserve all this?

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[jymwahuwu]

BARKINGN WOOF WOOWF DOES HE LIKE DOGS?? I CAN BARK!! GOOD HEAVENS MR. RECA. MISTER MISTER!! HELLOOO SAILORRRR!!

cough cough, my apologies for that outburst but here are my thinking thoughts on Mr. Reca..

Thinking of him holding you in a headlock to make sure the camera could capture your face. Maybe press down on your tongue with some of his fingers so the camera can capture those lil mewls and such.

He loves to keep going until he sees that doe-eyed blank stare you get whenever he goes too far. Face tear-stained while you drool mindlessly against his fingers. In fact, he always tries to get that one clip in whenever he wants to record(which is always.)

Bondage but it's him tying you up with old film from your previous commercial/scenes of you in other movies. Just so he can see the before and after his special films. He loves you dearly, look at how footage he kept of you from your previous acts!!

(Also on a more romantic topic, thinking him of making roses out of his favorite film tapes of you on the first date. You don't know because it's pitch black but they're actually from the films that you have acted as a romantic love interest. He's very sweet..when he's not insane me think.)

I passed out…Mr. Reca…his movie-related kink, and the way he expressed his love…😩💖💖💖

cw: yandere, dub-con, obsession, humiliation, oral sex, ooc because the official plot has not been released yet

Headlock may be a little rough, but that's the way to get your face on camera! He enjoys making low-budget movies for his own entertainment, without any regard for commerce but only his art and desires. The camera is right in front of you. Are you a little too shy? His arms were draped across your neck, holding your face in place as you bounced on his cock. Now you can't avoid the camera no matter what. He presses his thumb against your tongue as you swallow those sobs. No reason to hide them!

Mr. Reca doesn't show restraint. He pushes you to your limits to see how far you can go. Disappointing that you only need 5-6 orgasms to be brainless. The dazed look on your face is priceless (eyes melting out of focus, tears all over your face, and trembling legs. No quick reaction, just a subconscious whimper as your lips wrap around the cock). He often fails to part with these precious films and adds plots that have no obvious connection. In a movie about human loneliness in the universe, the scene of your orgasm is played. This is what happens at film festivals and cinemas. Anyway, if the audience complains, he will say it is a montage.

He keeps every movie that includes you. Those are his treasures. Even with the technology here, he still keeps these physical movie discs in his collection box. There are handwritten marks on it, such as: "1:15:32 blowjob part", "A must-see during the holidays", "3 hours without breaks version" and so on.

This stems from Mr. Reca's romantic moment. He created a CD collection of movies about you, decorated with fresh flowers and a cosmic gemstone.

Tucked inside is a card:

"To my favorite actor, legend, and sun. (Beautiful cursive writing, but at the last word, the person who wrote it seemed a little emotional, and the ink melted) Only when the sun shines on him, the moon will glow.”

[bengals-barnesbabe]

There’s Something You Should Know

Pair: Dad!Joe Burrow x OC , Dad!Joe Burrow x ExFianćee!Reader

Desc: Joe’s new girlfriend is in for a big surprise when she drops by unexpectedly.

TW: Jealousy, Toxic Gf, talks of divorce, childhood trauma

a/n: just a little idea I had and worked on for 2 weeks :)

Main Masterlist

WC: 4.9k

┊┊┊┊ ➶ 𓆉｡˚ ✧

August weekends are some of Joe’s favorites, not because he goes out with friends or showers his girlfriend with the attention she desires. No, he loves days like this. Days where his living room doesn’t stay clean for more than a few hours, mornings filled with cute giggles and sticky-syrupy little fingers, and nights controlled by a little girl with beautiful hazel brown eyes and a head full of dark tight curls, who picks the same bedtime story every night. These are his favorite moments.

Like now as he picks up the pink and purple lego sets off his living room floor while his little girl is off playing with some other toys in her playroom. From down the hall, he can hear all the make-believe scenarios the stuffies are going through. Currently, Who Dey the tiger and Joey the kangaroo were shopping for skirts but there was only one pink sparkly one left, it was a heavy debacle that Joe couldn't help but chuckle at while putting away the rest of the legos. 

Elliana, or Ellie for short, is the no doubt most important person (albeit little person) in his life. From the day she was born, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his little girl. Now at 4 years old, the bubbly and charismatic girl is taking in some of his interests, hence the immense collection of Lego sets that decorate his home. Sure this hobby came back to bite him in the rear when he would fall to victim of said legos by stepping on them, but the time they spent together just playing around was worth all the lego injuries in the world. But they also have house slippers now, to protect both of their feet.

Joe moved to tidy up the kitchen after double checking that all legos were in their rightful spots, not that he was actually going to count every single lego. To prepare for his 4 day weekend with Ellie, he made sure to restock on all her favorite meals and snacks but also ingredients to make the Bengals-themed cookies that she hadn’t stop talking about since she saw them on a commercial for a grocery store they don’t even have in Ohio. Joe wasn’t much of a baker, he only began cooking real meals when Ellie started staying over for multiple nights. Give him a box of Kraft Mac N Cheese and some dino nuggets and he’d turn it gourmet for his daughter, but for now that’s as far as he could go. So he called in reinforcements for this mission.

*ding dong*

His saving grace, Ja’Marr Chase. Joe was forever grateful to have a best friend that loved and cared for his daughter like she was his own. Ja’Marr was a great uncle and Ellie thought so too.

“Daddy, daddy! It’s Uncle Marr, he’s here to make cookies!” He smiles as the squeaky voiced girl comes running down the hall. Before she passes the kitchen, he sneakily pulls her into his arms before she could notice him. “Daddy!”

“What did I say about running in the house? I know you’re excited but you might fall and hurt yourself and that would make daddy really sad.” He lightly scolds bending down to her height.

“I’m sorry daddy. No more running.” Ellie cutely nods and places her small hands on his cheeks to lift his faux frown.  A grin quickly returns to his face and he kisses her forehead. 

“That’s my good girl, how about you go wash your hands so you and Uncle Marr can get started?” Her face beams as she wraps her arms around his neck. He returns the hug almost as tightly to take in the warm sense of comfort that having her in his arms brings. His arms could probably wrap around the young girl twice, but the contentment of having her little ones squeezing onto him so tightly is a feelings he never wants to forget. When she finally lets go, she kisses his cheek then skips down the hall in her fluffy pink slippers.

The door bell ringing again brings Joe back to his full height, but his brows furrow when he doesn’t hear his friend do his usual call out. ‘He’s probably on the phone.’ He thinks walking over to front door. He opens the door wide with a smile to greet one of his best friends, but gets replaced with his eyes widening and mouth dropping in shock.

“Hi babe!” 

Joe blinks then narrows the door’s opening to only fit half his body. “What are you doing here?” He asks the woman he’s been seeing for 6 months.

“I thought we could spend some time together. I know you said you’d be busy this weekend, but you’re busy every weekend. But since you’re actually home, we could watch a movie or something.” She smiles trying to peak inside. “Are you going to invite me in?”

Joe can hear the faucet in the first floor bathroom turn off and another car pull into his driveway. He looks behind him and zeroes in on every detail in his house that screams ‘this is my little princess’ castle’ then turns back to his curious girlfriend. “Um, now’s not a great time Kate.”

The short brunette’s jaw clenches and just as she’s about to respond, Ja’Marr walks up behind her. “Wow- so what, Saturdays are for the boys?” She barks. Actually they’re for the girls, little girls.

“Kate-

Loud giggles erupt from behind him. “UNCLE MARR! Daddy he’s right there I see him!” 

His teammate breaks out in a smile and waves to Ellie. “Hey babygirl.” Ja’Marr excuses himself from behind the woman and Joe lets him in the house.

Kate stands in front of him now dumbfounded. “You have a daughter?”

When Joe met Katelyn, he hadn’t had a long term girlfriend in a while, not since you. So he didn’t have to introduce anyone to his daughter. His team already knew her, his friends were great with her and she had a mom and dad who would do anything for her. Joe didn’t even feel like dating after your engagement ended two years ago. He had some hookups here and there, but getting into a relationship was not on his mind. Funnily that’s how this ‘relationship’ started, she was just someone he could call and was cool about it. Then he took her out to dinner to test the waters and half a year later he’s here.

When you broke up, you and Joe agreed not introduce your daughter to anybody without the other’s consent. You both wanted to make sure that she was your priority and her safety always came first. Then Joe implemented the rule to not introduce Elliana to romantic interests until at least 9 months into the relationship, he said it was him being protective but it was also so he didn’t have to see you without anyone else until it was serious. You also didn’t broadcast your daughter to the world like other parents, so not many knew that he did have a daughter unless they watched his every move. 

So long story short, Katelyn did not know.

“We should talk.” He said as she shoved his body to the side and stomped into his home. “I guess I deserve that.” He shook his head and shut the door.

Thankfully, the kitchen and the living room were a decent distance from each other so when she plopped down on the farthest end of the sofa, he could relax knowing Ellie wouldn’t hear any distinct words the woman might start throwing his way. Kate sat facing the blank tv screen, he took the spot in front of her so he could still see some of the movements in the kitchen through a wall cut out.

“Listen Kate.”

“No me first.” She cuts him off with a hand in front of his face. He just nods and allows her to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is she actually yours? Where’s her mother? How come no one knows about her? Why didn’t you fucking tell me? I thought I was your girlfriend, do I mean nothing to you? Who keeps this kind of giant fucking secret? Fucking talk!” She huffs.

“I was letting you go off- whatever. Yes, Elliana is mine. She just looks exactly like her mother” He mumbles the last part, combing his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick he’s had since he was little.

“She’s 4 and I have dual custody over her, so I mostly get her during the weekends. I didn’t tell you because her mother and I have an arrangement and I would have to talk to her about it first. Her mom lives here- well not here here, she lives in the city. You know I don’t like the attention the spotlight gives so it was easy for us to decide to leave her out of it as much as possible. I guess was going to tell you at some point.”

“What do you mean, you guess? I’m your girlfriend! Don’t you think I have the right to know that the guy I’m seeing has a kid?” She crosses her arms red faced.

“Calm down, we haven’t been seeing each other that long. We were never that serious.” 

“Of course not, every time I want to spend time with you there’s a new excuse. Oh you have a game, or practice that evidently takes all fucking day. Maybe you’re hiding me because there’s someone else.”

“I promise the only other girl in my life right now is my daughter. And everything you just said is a valid excuse, I have a job and child that require all my attention.”

“Why can’t she just stay with her mother? Do you have this stupid arrangement so she can come by and give you what you’ve been missing? I bet you’ve been fucking her this whole time.”

Joe scoffs, her words starting to make his blood boil. “Katelyn, what do you not understand about us co-parenting our daughter? I barely have time to spend with you, so what makes you think I have time to cheat? If you have a problem with me being a father, then you should leave.”

“I don’t have a problem with you being a dad, I have a problem with you not talking about your ex. What, was she so special that it hurts to talk about her? Was she the one, Joe? What exactly is your relationship like with her now?”

“I told you, we co parent. There’s nothing going on with me and her mother, that’s all in the past. Can we stop talking about her now, she’s not going to just pop up out of nowhere?” He rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not convinced, you’d only hide her if there was still something between you.” 

“Yea her name is Elliana, the four year old making cookies in my kitchen right now.”

Before Katelyn can come back with another complaint, the doorbell rings, again. Joe sighs and looks out the window to see another very familiar car. Spoke too soon Joe.

He opens the door to see another one of his close teammates and the very woman he was just talking about. 

“Tee, Y/n what are you doing here?” His eyes lazily flicker between the pair and you send him a sheepish smile.

“Oh you know, we were just in the neighborhood.” Tee nods very nonchalantly. You nudge his side with a chuckle.

“I got a 911 call from Ellie, she said there was an emergency.” 

“Really?” He starts to pat down his pockets and realizes his phone is missing. He turns around and spots a smiling little girl with two long braids neatly done with purple bows in her hair. “Ellie…”

“Yes daddy.”

“Did you call mommy with my phone without telling me?” 

“Yep!”

You stop the laugh from bursting out your mouth when he sends you a pointed look. Taking that as a sign to go ‘confront’ your daughter. “Elliana why did you call me saying there was an emergency?

“There is an emergency momma! Uncle Jay is eating all the cookies!” Ja’Marr turns around shocked at his little partner. 

“Ellie, what did I tell you about snitches?”

“Snitches get stitches.” She relays matter factly. Joe shakes his head in confusion because clearly he wasn’t aware she knew about snitches yet. While you chuckle and run in to snatch up your girl.

“Ellie what did I tell you about taking advice from Uncle J?” You ask placing her on the counter.

“You said to tell you when he teaches me something new. He just did momma, see I told you!”

“Wow, Joe see what your friends have done to my sweet little girl.” She giggles wrapping her arms around your neck.

“They’re your friends too. How is it my fault, I had no idea?”

“There’s your answer.” You smirk. “Now Ms. Ellie Dae Burrow, is there any other emergency I need to know about?”

Freeing herself from your grasp she nods her head. “We don’t know how to ice cookies mommy.” Then takes your face in her hands and turns you towards the powdered sugar mess next to her baking buddy.

“Ellie, did you touch the cookies before touching mommy’s face?”

“Um yes?”

“Did you wash your hands after touching the cookies?” The young girl looks at her flour caked hands curiously. 

“No mommy.”

“Remember what I said about touching your toys with dirty hands?” Ellie nods her head. “Well that goes for people too, cause now I’m covered in flour.”

“Oh, sorry mommy. I’ll go wash my hands now.”

You go off to get washed up then Ellie returns to the kitchen to continue helping with the cookies while you join Joe in the living room.

“I hope you guys didn’t have anything planned, Ellie clearly has a mind of her own.” Joe jokes with the couple.

“Not much, we were just going to pick up some lunch and maybe catch a movie.” Tee shrugs.

“That’s what we were going to do, how funny.” Kate perks up with hidden mischief in her eyes. This is when you realize you have no clue where this woman came from nor who she is. 

“Joe?”

“Oh how rude of me. I’m Katelyn, Joe’s girlfriend and I assume you’re his baby mama.” She fake smiles holding her hand out.

The eyes of the men in the room widen at her bold choice of words. You smirk and shake the woman’s hand. “Yep, that’s me. The mother of his only child, you must know how great of a dad he is right? Whenever he has any time off, he’s always picking her up or coming over to see her. Truly father of the decade and she isn’t even 5 yet.”

Tee sits next the father hiding his face in his hands and chuckles. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted this to go.” He whispers to him. Joe just groans in his hands.

“Well, you should have a seat.” Kate invites.

“Oh I will, thank you for the hospitality in the house that my ex fiance asked me my opinion on over a year ago.” You grin and sit on the other side of Tee.

Katelyn’s kind demeanor shifts with a fake smile wide on her cheeks as she sits next to Joe. “So why’d you break up?”

“We are not starting here!” Joe’s eyes go wide and he straightens up. “Ask anything else please.”

“Joseph, your girlfriend wants to know why we’re not married right now. Why don’t you tell her?” You say forgetting how the whole thing happened for a bit. Thankfully those cherished memories come floating back to your mind and you hoped he decided to change the subject to cover your mishap.

“You just met, aren’t you supposed to be doing the making sure she’s safe for Ellie to be around thing?” You let out a muted sigh before replying.

“Oh please, and you haven’t?”

“No.” He mutters.

Your face hardens as you kiss your teth. “You let this woman around my daughter without screening her first? Joseph what the hell?”

He throws his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t think it was going to last this long, I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Then why is she here?” You question turning your body completely towards him.

“Your guess is as good as mine!”

Katelyn scoffs, “excuse me, I’m sitting right here!”

“Unfortunately we see that too. How long have you been together anyway?” You hope that their explanation has to do with the restrictions you came up with to keep your daughter safe.

“7 mont-

“6 months- They say at the same time.

“Damn, this is awkward. I’m gonna go.” Tee announces. “I’ll text you.” Then he leaves.

“Looks like that didn’t last, maybe that’s why Joe left you. You attract drama everywhere you go.” Joe grimaces at her just wanting her to stop talking.

“Oh no hun, I left him. Not like it’s any of your damn business cause you don’t know me or him that well either. But let me guess, he told you he was busy but you showed up anyway hoping he’d let you in and give you whatever you want. I wouldn’t stress about him not making enough time for you, there’s a lot of worst ways he could be treating you. Just remember that at the end of the day, I’m that little girl’s mom and he’s her dad. I’ll always have a key in the door, when you won’t even get to see the open house.” Then you got up and went to the kitchen. Joe watched in amusement as Katelyn seethed. Then peaked behind him to catch a glimpse of you and your daughter baking together.

“You need to talk to her, she needs to know that I’m your future and she needs to make room.” Joe rolls his eyes.

“She’s right. They’re my past, present and my future. You were just a distraction and now I don’t need you anymore. I’m going to have to ask you need to leave my daughter’s house.” 

She shakes her head. “Joe, we can have our own family. You don’t need them. I can do that for you.”

“Katelyn I want them, not you. It’s time for you to go.” He stands and walks over to the door.

“You’re going to miss me and regret this, but I wont open the door for you. When you want me back I’ll have someone way better than you. Please don’t do this, don’t break up with me.” Rolling his eyes at the quick change in behavior he unlocks the door for her.

“Joey, I thought we were having fun. You don’t want to throw that away do you?” She asks as a final strand of hope glistens in her eyes.

Joe sighs, “it was fun, but I’d rather play with flower shop legos and bake cookies.”

“Fuck you Joe!” She stomps out with expletives shooting from her mouth. 

⍣ ೋ

“Daddy was your friend crying because you hurt her feelings?” Ellie asks with frosting covering her mouth when he arrives in the kitchen. He picks her up and kisses her sugary cheeks.

“No bub, she hurt her own feelings.” 

“Joey hurt my feelings when left to join the circus.” She pouts talking about her stuffie and licking her sticky fingers.

“Are you eating the icing before we can put it on the cookies?” He asks the orange dye covered girl.

“Nyooo.” She chuckles.

“What are we going to do with you?”

“Mommy said we’re all going to the park to feed the ducks.” She smiles. You turn around with wide eyes and an amused smirk, halting your current task of making more orange frosting.

“I did not say that. Ellie Dae why are you telling your father stories?”

“I think she wants to go feed the ducks.” Ja’Marr snorts while eating some of the cookie dough.

“Uncle Marrrr, you can’t eat more cookies! It’s for the ducks.”

“Ellie ducks don’t eat cookies.” Joe chuckles putting her on a part of the counter that’s not covered in sugar.

“Kaia said they do.” Your daughter yawns mentioning your next door neighbor’s teenage daughter that likes to babysit her.

“Well you’re going to have to ask Kaia where she found the cookies made for ducks.” Glancing over at the oven clock you hum realizing its 2pm. Naptime. Looking back over at your ex, you watch him wrap his arms around your daughter as her eyelids struggle to stay open. “Joe.” You whisper. He looks up at you then the time and nods.

“Come on babygirl, let’s go upstairs.” She whines as he lifts her, but still wraps her arms around his neck.

“But daddy, I’m not tired. Cookies.” She yawns laying her head on his chest. He smiles and kisses her head.

“I promise the cookies will be there when you wake up, and maybe we’ll even take some to the ducks.” You can’t help but smile as the pair climb the staircase up to her room. You always knew Joe would be a great father, especially when the you were surprised by the idea of having a baby so young and so early in your relationship. But he only stepped up in ways you couldn't have imagined, watching him become a father felt like one of life’s greatest privileges. It’s one of the things you love loved about him. Joe’s caring nature was unlike any other, in those 4 years together you’d never felt so loved and cherished by anyone like him.

Turning around to go back to your icing duties, you’re faced with a smirking Ja’Marr Chase. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous.” He chuckles setting a timer for the cookies that you now notice are in the oven. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You look at him the same way he looks at you, which is the exact same way when you were engaged. You just need to put the ring back on and plan the damn wedding at this point. I mean he broke up with his fling for you.”

You just shake your head at his nonsense, there was no way you and Joe would ever get back together after how it ended- after how you ended it. “No, I’m with Tee. They just had a mild disagreement, the second Ellie comes home with me he’ll be calling her back over.”

“You’re fucking with me right?” He scoffs. “You and Tee are not together.”

“How would you know?”

“He texted me the minute you got here. The only reason you two were out together was because we’re all still friends. Don’t try and bullshit me. You’ve been trying to make Joe jealous for weeks.”

“I have not, lower your voice. If you think he would ever take me back after the shit I said that night, then you’re delusional. I already fucked up with Joe.”

“But you want him to though.” He tilts his head with a soft smile. “I bet you still have the ring on you.” Your eyes go straight to the floor.

“You didn’t give it back because he wouldn’t take it. You can’t put it away because of who it reminds you of and you won’t sell it because you still care. In fact Ellie said you put it on a necklace and kept it in the smallest pocket of your purse.” When you look up, he’s somehow produced the same ring Joe proposed to you with on that beach date when Ellie was 8 months old.

“She really is a little blabber mouth.” You sniffle taking the chain.

“She’s smart and a thief. She showed it to me after you went to go clean your face. She knows how much it means to you and whether she understands it or not, she wants her mom and dad back together.”

“Oh please, this is the same little girl that wants to feed ducks sugar cookies.”

“All I’m saying is you should think about why you’re still carrying that nice ass ring around and talk to him. Alright I’m gonna head out, you got this right?” You nod and share a friendly hug.

“Remember what I said.” He says as the front door opens then shuts.

You lean over the counter with your hands on your face and let out a groan. There’s no possible way for Joe to ever take you back. You don’t even know why you still carry the ring around, but somehow leaving the house without it makes you feel untethered to reality.

“I doubt the cookies are that bad.” You gasp startled by the man leaning on the entryway to the kitchen.

“Goodness, Joe.” Your right hand covers your eyes while still clutching the gold chain. 

“Wow,” you drop your hand remembering what you were holding. “That’s something I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Yea- um. I was having it cleaned.” You bite the inside of your lip, then replace it with a pout when his face tells you he knows the full story. “Joe-

“Put it on.”

“Listen- wait what?”

You want to believe he’s joking, but the look in his eyes is all seriousness. “I want you to put the ring back on.”

“I can’t, not after the way I ended things. It wouldn’t be right.”

“You can, because I want you to. I need you to put the ring on.”

“Joe there’s something you should know.”

He sighs and takes the chain from you. “I know you and Tee hooked up once, I’m still debating on if I need to sucker punch him for it.” Then unclasps the chain and releases the 7 karat diamond into his hand. “I know that we spent the last 2 years trying to forget everything that went down between us only to remind each other every weekend when Ellie is dropped off.” He begins to fiddle with the ring between his fingers. “I also know that nothing you said that night was true.”

You gulp locking eyes with the man you’ve always wanted to call your husband. “Joe.”

“On April 10th, your mom called you and said ‘never get married’ because she had finalized her divorce with your father after spending 25 years in an unhappy marriage, that without a doubt gave you enough trauma in itself. April 11th, I came home from a night out where I drank way too much and reminded you of a part of your childhood you tried to run away from, which is something I’m extremely sorry for. April 12th, we spent the entire day arguing about the dumbest shit because I couldn’t see the pain you were harboring. Then you said ‘I can’t spend the rest of my life with a man that doesn’t care how he comes home to his family. I won’t let you run me into the mud like he did to her, I want to be happy. I can’t marry you.’ And took your ring off.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face as he recalls the last night you spent together as a couple. A night you’ve regretted since it happened.

“Joey, don’t let me do this to you. You don’t deserve this, you could do so much better better than a damaged bitch with trust issues.” With one hand he wipes your tears and with the other he takes your left hand. “Joe think about this.”

“I think there’s something you should know.” He repeats your words with a more lighthearted tone, then gets down on one knee. 

‘There’s no way, no way. Nope, he’s not doing this.’ You echo to yourself while shaking your head.

“I spent two years thinking about this. Two years driving back and forth so we could have equal time with our little girl. Two years of wondering if I’d ever have you back in my arms the way I dream of at night. Even spent one in this house thinking about how hollow it feels without you living in it. I bought it for you, so we could raise our family here together. I know this probably won’t top the first one and I don’t have a new ring yet.” He winks causing another wave of tears to fall, this time happy tears. 

“I can’t see myself happier with anyone except this damaged woman in front of me with trust issues. Shit I’m not that happy now, cause every time I look in our little girl’s eyes all I see is her beautiful mother. She’s a constant reminder of the woman I miss more than anything. I thought we could do this co-parenting thing and stay friends so Ellie could have a happy childhood, but I spend more time with you than I do without you. I don’t want to wake up with anyone else in my bed that isn’t the woman right in front of me. And I’m thanking Elliana for bringing you here, because I need you. I want you back more than anything in the world.” 

His voice starts to tremble. “I’d step on a million legos for you, bake and burn a thousand dinners for you, miss hundreds of games for you- fucking anything. Anything you want, it’s yours. Just say yes.” 

You can feel the way your heart breaks for him, just proving how much you don’t deserve him. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

You can’t look him in the eye and break him again. You try to suck in the sob but there’s no use.

“I’m pregnant with Tee’s baby.”

.

.

.

SIKE

.

.

.

i'm sorry that was childish, don’t hate me lol here’s the real ending

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

“I can’t,” You giggle when his pout deepens. “You haven’t asked the question yet.”

A bright smile breaks out on his face as he sighs in relief. “You need to stop scaring me. Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes I’ll marry you, Joey. I'll marry you a hundred times if I have to.” You beam as he slips the ring back in its rightful spot then stands and pulls you into the most passionate kiss. 

After two years, you’re back in the arms you love, felt the most comfortable and cherished in. You feel so lucky to have found a man, a fiance so caring, thoughtful, and understanding. Lucky that every time you pushed him away, he just pulled you in harder. And you can’t wait to finally marry him and give him everything he’s ever wanted. Including a bigger family.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

so any critiques, comments, concerns. i'm open to any and everything🫶🏾 oh and don't forget to reblog for more :)

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Could you write about stan or Ford taking care of their sick s/o? I've been suffering from an awful head cold this past week and it sucks i could really use the comfort 😭

sick days with Stan & Ford (x reader)

a/n: starting with smth sfw while i work on… other things hehehhe but I hope you’ll feel better! take your meds and let yourself rest 💌 and thank u for the ask, anon!!

Stanford Pines

the kind of man who fights interdimensional monsters but still worries if your tea is the right temperature.

he tucks you onto the couch, fussing over pillows and blankets until you’re buried like some kind of marshmallow. then he disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear pots clanging and. . . is that the blender?

when he returns, he’s holding a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a strange concoction that’s vaguely green.

“head cold or not, you need fluids. hydration is important,” he says, setting a mug of something herbal-smelling on the coffee table. “this tea is from the forests of dimension 52. the locals swear by it for respiratory ailments.”

you squint at the mug. “it’s not gonna. . . mutate me, right?”

Ford pauses, adjusting his glasses. “probably not.”

“Ford!”

he chuckles, sitting beside you with a soft sigh. “it’s perfectly safe, i’ve tested it. besides, you trust me, don’t you?”

and of course you do, even when his idea of “helping” involves interdimensional remedies that could very well grow you a third arm.

you take a tentative sip. the taste is weird, but soothing, warming you from the inside out.

“good?” he asks, watching your face expression.

“yeah,” you admit, sinking deeper into the blanket. “not bad.”

satisfied or at least faking this, he leans back, but that little crinkle in his brow never really goes away.

“you’re overthinking again,” you notice, looking at him.

“i am not,” he says, entirely unconvincing.

“Ford.”

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just hate seeing you like this, i keep thinking there must be something more i can do.”

you reach out, tangling your fingers with his. “you’re doing enough, really, just stay with me, okay?”

Ford’s expression softens and he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“always.” and he stays, reading to you from one of his journals while you drift in and out of sleep. his voice is calm, comforting and every so often, he pauses to carefully check your temperature.

Stan Pines

you wake up with your throat feeling like sandpaper and your head pounding. you barely have the energy to groan, let alone drag yourself out of bed, but the world outside your room is loud. voices from the tv, Stan’s yelling at it.

with blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you stumble out and see Stan sprawled on the armchair in his striped boxers and tank top, he’s shoving popcorn into his mouth by the handful, but when he sees you, he nearly chokes on it.

“jeez, you look like somethin’ the cat dragged in. worse than waddles after he found that mud pit last week.”

you sniffle. “thanks for the pep talk, Stan.”

he waves you over as his tone softens. “c’mon, c’mere. what’s wrong? flu? cold? bubonic plague? don’t tell me you’re contagious.”

you plop next to him, dropping your head onto his shoulder. the tv’s too loud, but you can’t even complain about it.

“it’s just a cold,” you murmur. 

“cold, huh? well, that’s nothing to mess with,” you can hear the tease in his voice. “lemme get my doctor bag. got some snake oil in there that cures everything, even bad attitudes.”

he shuffles off to the kitchen, muttering about needing to find some ginger ale. he comes back with a mug of tea that looks. . . questionable. is that a bay leaf? and a handful of mints?

“drink this, kid, don’t ask questions.”

you sip and it’s awful. Stan grins as you make grimace. “told ya it’s magic. now, get cozy.”

he turns the tv down and drapes his old, scratchy afghan over you. you don’t know when it happens, maybe during some ridiculous commercial for glow-in-the-dark socks, but you fall asleep with your head still on his shoulder.

when you wake up, the tea’s gone, replaced by a cup of melted ice cream with a sticky spoon, meanwhile Stan is snoring loudly with his arm protectively thrown over you.

[storiesforallfandoms]

just for us ~ johnny depp

word count: 1790

request?: yes!

“Hii can you please write a Johnny Depp imagine where its the 90s, you are both famous, and the press keeps beging you  expose your relationship?”

description: being famous at such a young age makes it hard to keep anything a secret, but you’re determined to make sure your relationship is just for the two of you and not for the media

pairing: young!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

I started acting when I was five years old. It was a commercial, and I had all of 30 seconds of screen time. But that 30 seconds was enough to impress the director apparently, because two years later when he was hired to direct some new sitcom, he called my parents looking to cast me as one of the main kids. The show only lasted one season, but one season was all it took to kickstart my career.

Becoming an actor at such a young age meant losing a “normal” life. I never went to normal school, normal prom or graduation. I never really had normal friends, just co-stars and other child actors. And I never had any privacy. Once I became a household name, privacy went completely out the window as I was followed by paparazzi and fans daily. Not to mention the creeps who came out in droves when I turned 18.

Nothing in my life was private. Nothing except Johnny.

We met on set of a movie we were working on together, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was going to fall for him. I tried not to. Dating as a celebrity was basically impossible, even more so when it was with another celebrity. But i couldn’t stop myself, and when he told me he had fallen for me too, I was a goner.

Being a fellow actor, Johnny knew exactly how to keep our relationship a secret. He knew which restaurants had the most hidden away seating, which ones had the most private parking so we could actually show up and leave together. He knew how to sneak in and out of my place without paparazzi noticing, and how to do the same with me at his place.

It worked for a long time. Like, two years at least. No one had any idea we were together. Until a fan spotted us out together. They didn’t see us acting like a couple, but apparently us hanging out together years after our movie had come out was suspicious enough to get the rumor mill going. Suddenly, every interview we did had us asked at least once about our relationship. But we never broke. We kept insisting we were just friends, and we kept our relationship a secret.

It was early in the morning when my alarm clock started to blare. I groaned as I rolled over to turn it off. The bright red numbers read “7:00am”. I groaned again, sleep fighting to take me again.

I smiled as Johnny wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed my neck. “Why are we awake so early?”

“I have a morning interview at 9,” I told him. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

He squeezed me a little tighter. “Absolutely not.”

“I have no choice, J. I can’t cancel so close to the interview.”

“Just don’t show up. Problem solved.”

I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still drooping with fatigue, but he was trying his best to focus on me. I smiled at him and kissed his nose.

“You can stay here and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“You better be,” he sleepily muttered.

I chuckled and finally wiggled free from his grasp.

Getting ready for interviews never took long. I didn’t have to do my makeup because the studio makeup artist would do it for me when I got there, and an outfit was chosen for me by my stylist prior to the day. All I had to do was get breakfast, clean myself up, and get dressed in my pre-chosen outfit. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a car horn honking outside, signaling that my ride to the interview had arrived.

I took one last peak into my bedroom. Johnny was sound asleep again. I smiled and quietly moved to my bed. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before rushing out the door as the car honked again.

I was rushed through the makeup and placed in an uncomfortable chair within 20 minutes. I tried not to shift too much in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Morning talk shows always had the worst chairs for some reason.

The host walked onto set and greeted me cheerily. I smiled back at her, wishing I had her chipper energy for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had.

She sat down across from me and we were given the five minute warning. I adjusted myself in my seat one last time, then smiled as the cameraman announced we were live.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to our special guest, (Y/N),” the host said, gesturing to me. The crowd cheered as I smiled and waved to them. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to be here!”

The host asked me about my new movie, and I went over the talking points I had been given for every interview. It was going as smoothly as most interviews did, until the host said, “I have to ask, is there anyone special in your life?”

I kept the smile on my face, but I was sure it looked much more strained now. “Nope. I’m absolutely single pringle.”

“Really? There’s not even anything going on with you and Johnny Depp?”

I glanced over at my manager, who looked about ready to shut the whole interview down. Most celebrities have a few off limits questions that interviewers are told they can’t ask about. It’s usually super personal and private stuff that they want to keep private. For me, the one topic that was off limits was Johnny. It wasn’t just because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but it was also because my management and I didn’t want all my interviews to suddenly be just about Johnny and not about my work.

It was clear from the look on my manager’s face that this host was told my limitations, and she was choosing to ignore them. This was her attempt at getting a huge scoop before anyone else so that she could boost the ratings of her show.

I knew I couldn’t just stop the interview. It was a live show, stopping would just cause a scene that I knew would do more harm than good. So, I took a very subtle deep breath and said, “Johnny has been my friend since we worked together years ago. There’s nothing more between us besides friendship.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re aware of the rumors about you two. Everyone is dying for you to finally confirm that you’re together.”

“Well, everyone will just have to keep waiting because I am not confirming what’s not true. Also, I think it’s incredibly disrespectful and invasive to keep pushing this topic when Johnny and I have both said we aren’t dating and like to have our privacy. I don’t get many things that are just for me, but I want my relationship to be one of those things.”

My manager whispered something to the cameraman, who then signaled for the show to go to commercial. Once the cameras were off, my manager demanded for me to be un-miced so we could leave. I ignored the host’s apologies as the crew took off my mic and my manager beckoned for me to come with her.

As we left the studio, she nudged my shoulder and said, “You handled that amazingly, kid.”

I had no other obligations for the day, so my driver took me back home. I was happy to be back in the comfort of my own home after that interview.

The smell of food greeted me at the door. I smiled at myself as I made my way to the kitchen. As I expected, Johnny was stood at the stove, cooking up some breakfast. He was still in his pajama pants with no shirt on. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He leaned into my touch, allowing me to place a kiss on his bare shoulder.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“The interview was cut short,” I responded.

“So I heard.” I looked up at him in confusion. “I woke up just in time to turn on the interview.”

I groaned. “So you saw the whole thing?” He nodded. I buried my head in his shoulder. “We told her not to ask, I swear.”

He moved in my arms, turning so he could face me. He wrapped his arms around me, too, as I moved mine around his neck instead.

“I think you handled that whole situation very well,” he said. “It was pretty clear you were caught off guard by the question, but you still handled it maturely and with more respect than I think she deserved.”

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene over it, even though I really wanted to just walk out if she had asked.”

“Would’ve made for better television if you had just stormed out.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best that I didn’t then.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. Any tension I had left from that day immediately melted the moment his lips touched mine.

“We’ll have to tell people eventually,” I said with a sigh, resting my head against his. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”

“We’ve done so for two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve already gotten caught once. There’s just no proof of us actually being together for the tabloids to run with. But if we slipped up once, it can happen again. Then we’ll have to tell people about us.” I sighed and added, mainly to myself, “We’ll ever get a moment of peace again.”

“It’ll happen eventually, but until then I’m happy to have our private moments,” Johnny said. He kissed the top of my head and added, “But the day I get to loudly say you’re mine will be a good day for me. I want everyone to know eventually that I have the most amazing woman as my girlfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Good.”

He kissed me again, but pulled away quicker than I wanted. I tried to pull him back in, but he just shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want the food to burn. The last thing we need is everyone finding out we’re dating because I burned your house down.”

I chuckled. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the two of us.”

I nuzzled close to him as he turned back to the stove. “I’ll never say no to your cooking.”

[pandapetals]

One Of Your Girls

worst wolverine/logan x fem!reader - inspired by a troye sivan song, fluff, cute, happy ending, wade being wade, no y/n used, no reader description

Wade ships you and Logan together and tries to help make y'all a couple.

read on Ao3

You sat on the worn-out sofa in Wade’s living room, half-listening as he rambled on about his latest grueling day of being the “sexiest superhero alive.” He and Wolverine—or Wolvie, as Wade annoyingly liked to call him—had teamed up again, taking down some bad guys and saving the world, or at least a very small part of it.

“So there I am,” Wade continued dramatically, gesturing wildly, “surrounded by ninjas, which isn’t really a surprise because let’s be honest, ninjas are kind of my thing at this point—classic Deadpool. But Wolvie’s just there, growling and stabbing his way through, and I’m like, ‘Dude, we get it, you’re the strong, silent type, but maybe use your words once in a while?’”

He kept talking, something about the “grueling emotional labor” of working with Logan, but you weren’t really paying attention anymore. Your gaze drifted to the hallway, where Logan emerged from the bathroom with a grunt, a small towel barely hanging around his waist. His skin glistened with droplets of water from the shower, the muscles in his back rippling as he stalked down the hall.

You tried to tear your eyes away, but it was like gravity itself was keeping you glued to him. Logan moved with that same effortless intensity, his brow furrowed like he was annoyed at the mere existence of the towel. The heat rose to your face, and you quickly looked down, but not before catching a glimpse of Logan’s rough hand wiping the moisture from his chest.

Wade, of course, noticed because when doesn’t he notice?

“Geesh, I knew you were down bad for Wolvie, but—” Wade started, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to share some scandalous secret.

Without thinking, you slapped his shoulder to shut him up, your face burning as you tried to compose yourself. Wade, ever the drama queen, let out an exaggerated gasp and clutched his shoulder like you’d just thrown him into the sun.

“Ow! That hurt my feelings,” he said, turning toward an imaginary camera because, of course, he was breaking the fourth wall. “She hit me, folks, and not in the fun, sexy way either.”

You shot him a glare, your lips pressed into a tight line, though you couldn’t help the flicker of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Wade wasn’t done. He never was.

“You know, it’s always the quiet ones,” he added, stage-whispering as if that would somehow make Logan disappear or teleport out of the apartment in embarrassment. “Can’t say I blame you though. Look at him, all angry and dripping wet—he’s like a feral wolf in an Old Spice commercial. Honestly, if this was the kind of quality content the MCU promised me, I wouldn’t have jumped ship for Deadpool 3: The Comeback —coming soon, by the way.”

Logan, ignoring Wade as per usual, had already stalked off toward his room. He muttered something unintelligible, probably about how Wade was going to get his ass kicked later, but the low rumble of his voice still made something in your stomach twist. He hadn’t even looked at you, but you felt the heat creeping up your neck, spreading to your cheeks.

Wade, of course, was not done with his commentary. “Dude, he didn’t even throw you a glance,” he said, wagging a finger. “I mean, if I walked out of the shower looking like a damn Greek god with claws, I’d at least give a wink. Maybe even a smolder. Oh, wait!” He perked up and leaned forward, his voice dropping to a faux-conspiratorial tone. “What if he’s doing that on purpose? You know, like a power play? He’s got the whole brooding, tortured thing down—girls love that, by the way.”

You slapped him again—lighter this time, but Wade still let out an exaggerated groan.

“Oh, c’mon! The sexual tension in here is thick enough to slice with one of Logan’s claws. You’re telling me if he showered in your apartment, half-naked, and you wouldn’t immediately jump his bones? What are we even doing here, people?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. “Wade, for the love of God—”

“God has abandoned this apartment long ago,” Wade interrupted, standing up dramatically, his arms wide as if making a declaration. “But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’m more than willing to give you both some fantastic relationship advice.”

You shook your head, biting back a laugh. "Wade, the last time you gave relationship advice, you told someone to ‘just show up shirtless’ and that would fix all their problems.”

Wade grinned, completely unbothered. “Did it work?”

“They were arrested for public indecency.”

“Semantics!” Wade waved it off, flopping back down beside you. “Now, where was I? Oh, right. Wolvie. You know, he's probably sitting in his room right now, thinking about you. Brooding, shirtless, glaring out the window like some tragic anti-hero from a really dark fanfic.”

Before you could respond, Logan reappeared—this time, fully dressed but still clearly annoyed. “Wade, shut the hell up.”

Wade, undeterred, turned toward you and whispered loudly, “See? I told you he was brooding. He’s totally into you.”

You shot Logan an apologetic look, though you could tell from the tightness around his jaw that he was this close to throwing Wade out a window. Logan didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on you just a second too long before he stormed off again, muttering something about “goddamn loudmouths.”

Wade leaned back on the sofa, folding his arms behind his head with a smug grin. “Oh, yeah. He’s in deep. ”

The rest of the day was filled with more of Wade’s sarcastic quips and Logan’s signature gruffness, but beneath the surface, something had shifted. By the time the sun set, Wade had finally left leaving you and Logan alone in the apartment promising to bring back pizza.

Logan was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking worn out, his head hung low as he rubbed the back of his neck. You stood in the doorway, watching him quietly for a moment before stepping closer.

“You alright?” you asked softly.

Logan grunted in response, his usual noncommittal way of saying “I’m fine.” Before he glanced up at you, and something in his expression softened. His shoulders relaxed slightly as you sat down beside him, the silence between you comforting.

“Wade get to you?” you asked with a smirk, nudging him playfully.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “That guy never knows when to shut up.”

“Yeah, well, you gotta admit, he’s got a point,” you teased, nudging him again. “You do tend to brood.”

Logan gave you a look, his usual scowl softened by the hint of amusement in his eyes. “I don’t brood.”

“Right. Sure you don’t,” you said, smiling as you sat on the bed beside him. The air between you was lighter now, but that familiar, charged tension still lingered, just under the surface. “So… was Wade right? You were totally into me earlier, weren’t you?”

Logan chuckled under his breath, running a hand through his still-damp hair, his muscles still tense from the fight and the usual Deadpool chaos. “You’re ridiculous.”

“ You are,” you countered, your voice taking on a teasing tone. You leaned in closer, bumping your shoulder against his. “I mean, look at you. Everyone loves you. I swear, every time we go out, every woman in the room is practically lining up just to—”

“Would you stop? You sound like Wade,” Logan grumbled, his voice low but without any real annoyance. He shook his head, but there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed, your eyes sparkling as you nudged him again. “I’m serious, Logan. I’ve seen the way they look at you. Like they’re all just waiting for their turn to fawn over the ‘mysterious bad boy.’ The brooding, the claws, the ‘I’ve been through hell’ vibe—it’s working for you.”

Logan shot you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “I’m not trying to ‘work’ anything.”

You shrugged, your grin widening. “That’s the problem. You don’t even have to try. You just walk into a room, grumble a bit, maybe glare at someone, and they’re hooked.”

He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, please. Next time we’re out, I’ll start keeping a tally of all the looks you get,” you teased. “What’s it like being the main character in everyone’s secret fantasy?”

Logan huffed, giving you a side-eye that would’ve scared anyone else, but you just smiled. “Keep it up, and I’ll start sounding like Wade for real.”

You burst into laughter at that, imagining Logan in full Deadpool-style monologue, breaking the fourth wall mid-fight just to complain about your teasing. “I can’t wait for that.”

“Not happening, darlin’,” Logan muttered, but his voice was warm, and the smirk playing on his lips betrayed him.

The playful banter between you felt easy, natural—like this was how it should be. No walls, no tension, just you and Logan, comfortable in the teasing, in the back-and-forth that had become the foundation of your relationship. For someone as tough and guarded as Logan, moments like these were rare, and you cherished them every time. 

As the laughter faded, the mood shifted. You were still sitting close, the air thick with something more. The lightheartedness gave way to a quiet intensity, and suddenly, the space between you felt smaller and more charged.

Your eyes flicked to his, and you found him watching you, his gaze a little softer now, a little more focused. The teasing smile on your lips faltered, but only for a moment. You leaned in slightly, just enough for your shoulder to press against his, your hand brushing against his forearm.

“You know,” you said softly, your voice quieter now, more sincere. “I wasn’t joking earlier. You really do have people falling for you left and right.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly, his voice low. “I’m not interested in ‘people.’”

There it was. That honesty, that vulnerability he rarely showed anyone. You’d gotten used to the way Logan opened up in small doses, revealing just enough for you to see through the tough exterior he wore so well. Each time, it made your heart flutter a little more.

You raised an eyebrow, your voice dropping to a whisper. “No?”

Logan shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No.”

For a moment, the room felt completely still, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. The weight of what he wasn’t saying hung between you, and you could feel your pulse quicken, the tension between you building by the second.

“Good,” you murmured, leaning in just a little closer, your breath mingling with his. “Because I’m not interested in sharing.”

A low growl rumbled in Logan’s chest, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as his other hand cupped your cheek, his rough thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Who said anything about sharing?”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you closed the distance between you, your forehead resting against his. The moment stretched on, your heart racing in your chest as you waited for him to make the next move.

Then, finally, Logan closed the gap.

His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that sent heat rushing through your entire body. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was steady, intense, like Logan was savoring every second. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You kissed him back just as deeply, letting yourself get lost in the feel of him—his warmth, his strength, the way his body seemed to mold perfectly against yours.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your lips still hovering just inches from his. Logan rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek as his thumb traced lazy circles on your skin.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he muttered, his voice rough but affectionate.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the damp strands still clinging to his head. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

Logan chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back just enough to look at you. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I do.”

A Few Days Later…

The teasing between you and Logan hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Especially Wade, who had already managed to weave an elaborate tale of unrequited love between the two of you, complete with bad fanfiction-level plot twists.

“So, you guys finally make out?” Wade asked one evening, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smug grin plastered on his face. “Or are you still in the ‘awkward pining’ stage?”

You sighed, giving him a deadpan look. “What do you think, Wade?”

Wade’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my God, it happened, didn’t it? I mean, of course, it did! I knew it! Everyone, Deadpool called it—Logan and his better half finally—”

Logan shot him a look that could kill, his claws extending just slightly. “Wade.”

Deadpool raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger! Or, in this case, the super-insightful, super-hot guy who predicted your inevitable romance. I’m just here to celebrate. Maybe I should write a poem about it.”

Logan grunted and shook his head, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Wade turned his attention to you, winking like the two of you were in on some grand scheme.

“You’re welcome, by the way. All my meddling totally paid off. You owe me one, well I guess you owe the writer of this fic but I’m totally taking credit.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “Sure, Wade. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Sleep? Who needs sleep when you’ve got love to keep you warm?” Wade sighed dramatically, holding a hand to his chest. “Honestly, I should start a matchmaking service. First Logan and you, next the world.”

Logan groaned. “Wade, shut the hell up.”

Wade grinned, unfazed as ever. “Love you too, peanut.”

[notjustjavierpena]

I dont know if its Father’s day where you are but Happy Father’s day to Hubby Javi!!

Father's Day (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: It's not but he sure appreciates you reminding me! In other words, I threw this drabble together just for you. Spot a little reveal in there!

Summary: Join Hubby as father's day comes to an end.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, pregnant reader, fluff, allusions to smut, Javier being called Daddy

Word count: 725

Father's Day

As the day is coming to an end and the weather starts cooling down outside, Javier drags his favorite garden chair into the center of the back porch so he has an overlook of the garden. He settles into the chair with a contented sigh, feeling full from the fantastic dinner you served half an hour ago, and in his hand, he twirls and rereads the card he received during his breakfast. 

It’s a handmade card full of glitter and dollops of messy glue, each of his children contributing a drawing but also a joint message telling him that they love him. Lucas has drawn a picture of them all, complete with a depiction of the growing belly on you as you carry his twin girls, while Inés has drawn a heart with a stick-figure family inside it and one of her famous butterflies. Javier’s eyes had practically sparked at the realization that even Sebastian had added his mark with a few colorful lines and squiggles.

He looks up with a smile and observes Sebastian babbling in a kiddie pool that you’ve set up next to him. His one-year-old is splashing happily in a swimming diaper, trying to figure out how things seem to stay afloat despite his efforts to drag them under the water. 

Javier’s two eldest children are playing tag on the lawn. They’re barefoot, speeding across the grass until their pant legs are covered in green stains and dirt but they look so happy as they take turns to chase each other.

Lucas pauses for a moment and decides to hide behind a bush when he sees Inés is distracted by a ladybug on one of the trees and seems to forget that she has to run from him. He pants with excitement and exhaustion at the same time, waiting patiently for her to start her search for him. 

“Got you!” He shouts triumphantly when she runs past his hiding spot, jumping out and capturing his baby sister with a grin. She squeals with laughter as she tumbles to the ground, the sound echoing through the garden and settling in Javier’s chest, warm and comforting. She regains her composure, animatedly dusts herself off like she’s seen in cartoons, and then she’s off again and Lucas adapts his speed to match her. Lucas is so good at making her feel confident and seen, Javier thinks to himself, if only he knew that being an amazing big brother is paying off because you’ve looked at a dog for his birthday in August, a two-year-old beagle from the local shelter. 

You step out onto the porch, immediately bending down to check the temperature of Sebastian’s water, and only when you’ve made sure it’s not too cold make your way to your husband. You lean down to kiss him, a hand on your pregnant belly as you do it, and Javier stretches his neck to meet your lips in a soft peck. 

In your free hand, you carry an already-opened Corona beer. You hold it out for him and he carefully sets the card down on the side table to take it from you. 

“Thanks, baby, you spoil me,” he says gently. He sits back and takes a long sip in the scorching summer heat. Then he rests the bottle on his thigh, “Still don’t think I look like him… the guy in the commercials.”

“Yes, you do. Happy Father's Day," you say fondly and kiss him once more, this time a little longer and enough for him to want to wrap his arm around your waist. 

"Thank you," he replies, placing a gentle hand on your belly instead as his eyes are filled with love for you. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

“Just wait until you realize what I have planned for later,” you tease with a knowing smile, “It’s going to be all about Daddy tonight. I’m showing you how much I appreciate everything you do for me and the kids.”

“Tell me more?” His interest is definitely piqued. 

“Not in front of the baby. It’s not appropriate,” you tease.

“Come on.”

“Use your big brain,” you laugh softly, “I’m giving you a blowjob, you idiot.”

A grin spreads across his face and while still staring into your eyes, he shouts across the garden, “C’mon, mijos (my children), it’s time for bed.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[mikibaby94]

Family Portrait ✨

~

I really tried hard with this one 😭

Ya know drawing this I realized this could be an old family portrait, probably when the boys were in their late teens! I tried really hard with Papa Mario (Charles I like to call him)

I also have a little headcanon that Luigi didn’t cut his hair until maybe the tv commercial? I like the idea of Luigi having a mullet only to cut it in the hot summers maybe? In the movie you can see or I think his hair might be longer than Mario’s tho that could just be him having a longer head and neck.

Anyways I got a lot of ideas drawing this and it was fun! I kinda figured Charles (papa Mario) is balding hence the receding hairline. I also like to play with the idea that Mia (mama Mario) asked Luigi to cut his hair for the picture but he like a older teen forgot lol

So she just had to make do haha! I tried with Mario but I couldn’t get his head just like it was in the portrait but I kinda like how it all turned out!

Fuller vers:

[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ Picture Perfect ♡

A/N: COMMISSION FOR MY LOVELY SUNSHINE ANON!!!! Thank you so so so much for your support and patience my love, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!!

Content/warnings: Puppy! hybrid reader x Vendetta era! Leon, 2nd person (you/yours), fem AFAB reader, reader calls Leon daddy, very grump x sunshine, lots and lots of fluff, a moment of angst and realisation but it all gets resolved :3

Word count: 7700 est. (sweet jesus)

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Leon hadn’t gone to a shelter expecting anything. An act of service, he told himself. That’s what this was. Entertaining the idea of adoption. Like people who drop loose change into charity boxes, the ones by the cash register with scuffed edges, to feel better about themselves. Right now he feels like the scuffed one. 

‘Go to the shelter,’ Chris said. ‘Hybrids make good companions,’ Chris said. He was vouching for his fellow soldiers at the BSAA, stick-up-the-butt men with trained military hounds. And judging by the posters hung on the windows outside the pet store, satisfaction was guaranteed. So he expected to enter a building of colourful lights, cheery music, and happy hybrids as far as the eye could see. Fluttering butterflies, sunshine and rainbows. Just like the commercials on tv. 

What a heap of shit. A smelly one, too. Big, steamy, stinky load of it. Those flyers were all smoke and mirrors, and let’s just say this was one hell of a broken mirror. The place reeked of bad luck. At least the stalls were cleaner than his conscience. Should he have actually done his research for this, even if it was just for appearances? It wasn’t the worst place in the world for him to go looking, right? No, right. 

Leon had seen his fair share of hybrids in his time at the DSO. Missions where he took them out of labs, stopped genetic modification. Sick bastards they were, people prodding rabbits with all kinds of needles. Yeah, he enjoyed taking those types of operations down. 

But he’d also seen the ones trotting around the office on occasion. Trained to sniff out B.O.W blood, or health herbs and antibiotics. And yeah, he was intrigued. Had watched the training rounds, memorised the starting commands, noted the stiff tail and hard gaze on every breed there. So he figured he may as well take a look at the less hard-ass offers.

God, what a mistake that was.

How had the mighty fallen so far? He’d planned to walk the dusty concrete floors with pride, to look down at the row upon row of hybrids only to decide no, he did not in fact, need a pet. A companion. A friend, a lover, whatever. No rabbits, no puppies, no kitties. He was too old for this shit. He’d seen it all before, lazing black cats and bouncy bunnies. Nothing stuck out to him, he’d tried. He could at least say he tried. From then on if anyone asked why his face would sink into a frown watching his coworkers bring in their happy-go-lucky hybrids, he had an open opportunity to rub a calloused palm over the salt-sweat skin of his neck and mutter that he tried.

That’s what mattered, right? Sure, that’s what mattered. He tried. He kept that thought in mind as workers tried introducing him to some of their more ‘respectable’ species, the fluffier cat girls and boxier dog boys. None of it was for him. All of this was a lost cause. 

And then there you were. 

Next thing he knew he had the thought of you living at his house stuck in the back of his head. Not just the back, though. No you’d left handprints - pawprints - over every fissure of his brain, burrowing into the ventricles. Now you were doing two little circles before settling into his cerebrum, digging at the surface to bury down nice and deep. Maybe bury a bone there. Extra comfy. 

He’s stuck. 

You’re a cutie. Pretty as a picture. A fine should be plastered across that sweet face for even existing, a paper bag over your head. It’s a crime for anything resembling you to exist, because otherwise Leon would’ve picked up every hybrid on the street. Those puppy-dog eyes pierced right through his soul like a bullet to the chest. And he left his kevlar vest at home, too. What a mistake. 

A floppy eared thing, fluffed to the max, your tail tapping aimlessly behind you. Bored. Lonely. They kept the pup hybrids in separate kennels when the little kids weren’t here to meet them, so you were on your own. Eyes as big as saucers, he was sure they’d have popped out of your head by now like one of those squeeze toys, the ones you squish so they squeak something reedy and awful. 

Glossy. You looked dejected, sad. Hopeful yet hopeless. In his mind he saw you bounding through long green grass in the dark night, nipping at fireflies between golden giggles. Watching you paw at the sky aimlessly, beckoning upon lightning bugs so you might try and ‘accidentally’ catch one in your mouth. You were made to be loved by someone.

It hurt. In a way you reminded him of his younger self. That cop, once bright eyed and bushy tailed, now decaying and withering into the husk of a human he was now. The one that burned down with the rest of whatever was left of Raccoon City.

And yeah, he wasn’t proud of this shelter specifically being his only pick of the bunch, there were hundreds he could’ve picked from. But this was a boot-out shelter, AKA they only hold onto hybrids for so long before kicking them to the curb. Just the thought of you, your fluffy self out on the streets..

He couldn’t let that happen to you.

And then those wet eyes fell on him and your tail swished quicker, your ears perking. Like a heartbeat picking up, a skipping pulse. You’re playing jump rope with the veins to his heart, his BPM’s music to those fuzzy ears. And that tail? Oh it’s swaying to the beat.

Something in your body seemed to click at the sight of him. It was an instinct, a switch flicking in your puppy brain. If he were in a movie this would be the part where time slows down and the camera focuses on his face and your own, panoramic view of the environment you both found yourselves in. Your face behind the bars, slowly shuffling your way towards him in curiosity. 

That’s when he knew he had to take you home. Surely he was a better choice than the other scum that might get a hold of a soft thing like you. And you seemed sweet. So it was settled.

The paperwork was easy enough. Signing on dotted lines, signatures to his left and right. Handing over his credit card for the chance at ‘friendship’ or something like that. The only thing he truly recalled was leaving with you in the backseat, curled up against the car cushions. 

Change. That’s what this would be.

You were well behaved. Quiet, too. At first anyway. Leon’s whole life had been thrown into disarray and all he had to do was give his credentials to some lady with a blurry nametag, confirm he wasn’t a psycho murderer or trying to Cruella DeVille you for your ears and tail. Which he absolutely didn’t have the time for, so no need to worry about that factor.

It only took a few hours for his house to be filled to the brim with new puppy gear. Collars and leashes of different colours (he couldn’t decide on those), squeaky toys and stuffed animals, comfy clothing, food and water bowls, and of course one of those playpens to lock up overnight. Leon wasn’t entirely educated on how to take care of you. Was he supposed to get you a room, a proper bed? How human was he supposed to treat you? 

The overall adjustment period was fast, for you anyway. Sure, at first you’d gone all timid when he brought you home, staring up at this well-built, shaggy man in a leather jacket like he was about to lock you in your cage forever. Might be a poacher, your brain scrambled together, or one of those mill owners. Yeah, he looked the type. But as soon as you heard him whisper a “Well hey there, sweetheart,” in your direction in hopes of coaxing you out of the backseat you were set and smitten. And in case he was still hesitant, you gave him a pretty clear giveaway on how you felt. After he’d set up your cage in the living room, packed full of blankets and pillows atop your pet bed, and watched you practically dolphin dive into the sea of plush, it became clear you were truly just happy to have a home. You were happy to be with him. 

Not like you spent many days in that puppy bed anyway, it only took a few days for you to come whimpering at Leon's feet in the night to climb under the blankets with him. And of course, he caved. How strong could you expect a man to be? Not to mention the stuffed toys you brought with you every time you hopped up, he’d become familiarised with all their names by the third week. 

Sure, it’d been tough for Leon in some areas, but in some ways it was also easy. You brought solace where you went, and you knew better than to overstep boundaries. He found out quick enough that you didn’t entirely know what to address him as, ‘Leon’ felt strange for some gut reasons but ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ were too formal, so you immediately leapt to daddy. Which, of course, caught him horrendously off-guard. Almost sent him into cardiac arrest the first time you yipped it in his direction, a plaque of cholesterol, fat, and an unbelievable amount of cuteness clogging his arteries. 

The worst part? After a few days he found himself enjoying it. Had his heart fluttering when you giggled it out as he ruffled your ears, rolling onto your back as he gave your belly an affectionate rub. Was he sick for liking it? Sure. He needed a doctor, stat. Symptoms included being extra ready to get home from work, planning his meals more thoroughly, and catching himself daydreaming more than usual. The diagnosis was a fluffy tailed sunshine puppy who trotted around behind him 24/7. A sweet shadow, a nosy thing. Prescribed treatment? Lots of cuddles, apparently. Cuddles, and plenty of daily shenanigans.

On one particular day he caught sight of you padding through the hallway slowly, looking up at all the photos he had hung upon the walls. Drinks with Claire and Chris on his birthday where he (begrudgingly) attended the surprise party they’d set up. Standing in the Whitehouse with some old man in a fancy suit. An old picture of just him sat atop the table below it all, his graduation photo from the police academy. He didn’t have the heart to throw it out. That was merely one of many old-news trinkets scattered around the house, objects that told a mixed story of Leon Kennedy. Well, now it was the house of Leon Kennedy and his puppy girl.

With a soft thud you sat your cute butt down on the floorboards to simply.. Stare. Examine, memorise, imagine what it was all like. 

Maybe his hair was softer in this photo, shaggier in that. Darker features and rougher around the edges, as if someone had switched from watercolour to graphite, defining his jaw. More stubbled and strong now, with a broader frame. Like watching a tree trunk even out, sprouting tough branches, leaves coming to fall over his eyes in bangs. He needed a haircut soon. 

However, in that moment of watching you, he knew he’d made the right decision. He saw it in the way the silhouette of your tail swished in interest, how your flopped ears perked up an inch whenever you focused on the finer details. Most of all he loved that signature puppy head-tilt. He got one of those whenever you didn’t understand what he was saying, be that garble about his work or the lulled out words from whatever book he read to you as you laid in his lap.

Yes, you laid in his lap now. And it was starting to feel so normal to him. The wagging tail in his peripheral vision, your eyes peeking up at his desk in his study. It all came so naturally, including the moments of chaos. One of which was the messy dance of getting you bathed, or dressed.

Baths. God, you stood your ground on baths. As soon as you heard the pipes squeal you took off like a rocket. Zoomed past the potted plants, darting through the backdoor if you could make it in time. Leon had to scoop you up mid-sprint as you wriggled and squeaked to get out of his hold, and shit did you run fast when you felt like it. Oh sure, you dragged your feet to snails-pace when you had to leave the park, but suddenly his puppy had the legs of a trackstar when it was bathtime. Once he actually had you in the warm water it was a whole other thing. You just couldn’t sit still for the life of you. Thank god for bath toys, or else you’d spend every second giving your flapping ears and soaked hair the signature wet dog shake. He turned his back? Shake. Reached for the shampoo? Shake. Went to turn the faucet on? Shake. He’d honestly rather you do that than try to jump out, and at least you got extra comfy with him when it came time to towel dry you. The last time he tried the hairdryer method you’d snapped and barked at the hot air like it was a personal affront, as if the loud hum was cursing you out in its own fan-whirring way. Then came the clothes.

On a good day he could wrangle you into a shirt of some kind (usually one of his own) and a pair of fluffy shorts with a hole in the back for your tail. On other days it was a tug-of-war fight over a v-neck because it’s obviously an invitation to play and growl between giggles and not Leon seriously begging a quiet “Baby- honey, no- Please, sweetheart, Chris is coming over and you can’t be butt naked, listen to daddy-”. Sometimes he really thought those floppy ears were just painted on. God, you were a little menace.

Luckily you were also adorable. Sure, a little dull, but so damn sweet. He couldn’t count how many times he’d pretend to throw a ball, watching you go sprinting out across the floorboards, slipping in your socks, in desperate search for it. Then it’s the head tilt, a routine trot around the coffee table, and sitting in the hall with a quiet whine. Vanished, poof, thin air. Gone.  Not to worry, cause soon Leon calls out an ‘Oh look!’ and the ball has magically teleported back into his hand to your shock and awe. Pawing at his hand and begging him to explain how on earth he learned such witchcraft. 

But there were a few things that threw him off guard about you, even after settling into this routine. For starters, your face. He didn’t mean that in a harmful way, he promises. Cross his heart and all that. But you were just so… gentle. Bright. Sometimes he found himself squinting at the sheer shine of you. Made him wonder if you came with batteries that just never got removed, corroded into place after years of chasing your own tail. Stuck on this constant sunshiney state with no way to power down. 

And you were manufactured in some lab, a biological anomaly even he couldn’t wrap his head around. A person who wasn’t whole and yet was so much more than that. You contained multitudes, brought life and colour in ways those others may see a ‘normal’ never could. The pitch of your bark, your hatred - and he meant hatred - of squirrels, how fast you leapt at the opportunity for a ride in the car. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was proud to be the one to bring you home. That he was the one to trace the curves of your hand, to rub your ears, to hold you in his lap while watching late-night tv. This was good for him. This was good for both of you.

Day after day he found himself adoring you in a new way. A week ago he’d have dropped his head in his hands at the sight of you nosing his morning slippers towards his feet in the wee hours of the morning, now he can’t help but smile sleepily. Lopsided and scratchy from his beard. Because despite the energy threatening to burst from your body, you still took the time to sit and wait for him to get up. 

He was a weak man now. A trained government agent was trailing behind his puppy girl in a pet store as you insisted on getting specifically that bunny with those ears cause it looked like the one that ran outside the living room window every day. And he listened to every ramble about said rabbit as you trotted to the cash register, plushie in mouth.

He’d fallen. Hard. 

Time had passed in the blink of an eye before either of you could process it. Seasons blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, and soon enough Leon found himself with a cuddle buddy more often than he did an empty bed. The feeling of your nose nuzzled into his shirt, strings of happy whimpers and whines mumbled from your sleepy lips, it all became his white noise. You’d made very quick friends with the sprinklers out in the yard by the time summer had rolled around, jumping back and forth over the swinging water in an attempt to catch it in your mouth. All Leon had to do was sit on the porch and watch in adoration.

What you both seemed to adore much less was when Leon left for work. It had you pawing at the windows with screeching nails, teary eyed and howling when he got home extra late. He didn’t have the heart to lock you up when he left, something about it made his chest strain. His poor girl, stuck in her little blanket cave, wondering where her daddy went. Pawing aimlessly at the wired frame, chewing on the gate between whimpers. He couldn’t bear the thought. It ached, in fact. You were hurting his heart without even doing anything.

But the past four days had been a nightmare. His first long term assignment since adopting you. Sure, Claire and Chris had done their best to entertain you since you couldn’t just be left home alone, plenty of toys and games and walks, but it just wasn’t it. You’d pace in little circles, whining and crying and crying and whining. Hours spent drying your tears with cooing and shushing from the Redfield siblings only to burst the pipes and sob some more. It was no use. Until he came back.

And now he had. After so many days (a million, you’d told Claire) without him, he was home. 

The sound of his motorcycle - that he’d retired from everything other than work for obvious reasons, vis-à-vis your sensitive ears - was a dead giveaway, and soon enough you had your cheeks squished up against the front window yapping away till your vocal cords strained. God, wasn’t that a sight. Face lifted into a glowing grin, ear perked up, tail a wagging mess. You looked like a whirlwind had been stuffed down into a body, and you were ready to tear through his home. An oh so dangerous fuzzy tornado on the hunt for endless snuggles and belly rubs to swallow up, up, up into your cyclone of love. 

You were gorgeous. You were adorable. You were everything he didn’t know he needed. He’d hardly stepped foot in the house and you were already jumping up to try and kiss and lick at his face with a thousand puppy kisses, tail wagging so fast you might just take flight. Like one of those cartoon dogs from those 80’s shows, ones Leon still can’t name to this day. That was the other good thing about all of this, you made him laugh. Chuckling hoarsely as he pushed past the door only to be met with your arms wrapped around him excitedly. 

“Daddy, you’re back! You’re home! I missed you!” Yip, yip, bark. You were melting his heart, almost running yourself into the wall at the sheer buzz of excitement thrumming through your body. 

Oh, how he’d missed you, rubbing that tender spot between your ears with a kiss to your hair. 

You’d made him soft. A side of him he never knew existed came out when he got you.

“I missed you too, pup.” He could only shake his head with a tired grin, dropping his bag at the door by the coat rack and shoe cubby. He’d had to buy one since you’d developed the habit of stealing his slippers to use as makeshift mittens. “Be careful where you’re walking there, honey.”

You were too busy babbling away about everything you’d done while he was gone to hear him properly, from playing a gazillion games of fetch to daily trips to the park. How that chipmunk had purposely ticked you off so you pawed at a tree trunk yapping at it for a good 5 minutes. And of course, how you’d almost managed to finally catch your tail. Looking up at him with so much pure puppy love with every step you took backwards through the hallway with a quickly wagging tail. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, you’d just missed him too much. 

That tail of yours though, it was out of control. Swish, swish, wag, sway. Mind of its own. Too happy to have your daddy home to focus on anything else. Pure puppy love. 

During your ramblings as Leon slowly worked at his shoelaces and zipper, all you could do was emphasise how happy you were that Chris had caved and let you visit the cafe downtown. Whilst mid explanation about what a ‘puppuccino’ was and how spectacular it tasted, the sudden smack of your fur against glass had you jumping in surprise. It seemed you’d collided with something in the midst of your excitement. The impact was followed by a loud crack, one that had Leon’s head pulling up to a swift stillness, no longer worried about getting his boots off. 

“What was that?”

There’s a concoction of emotions in his voice. A cocktail of worry, concern, and an off sternness. He’s hardly ever been stern with you. The last time he had been, the sad look on your face had him faltering. Usually he was so comfortable with being stern, it flowed freely through his body like the familiar warmth of whiskey. It was something he was so used to. But he wasn’t used to those glossy eyes tearing up at him. He was just a man, after all. And you were his puppy. 

That thought seemed to elude you both right now though, jolting to step away from the broken picture frame, looking down at the damage you’d done.

“Pup, are you-”

His academy graduation photo. You’d smacked it with your tail, and the frame had snapped.

All the colour drained from Leon’s face in one fell swoop. His calm, tired gaze ripped wide into one of shock, kicking his shoes into the shelves with a harsh thud.

“No- no no, no- shit!” His voice was a boom, it was loud and uncontrollable. Shaking the plaster of the walls with rolling thunder, his eyes zeroed in on the shattered glass, lightning crackling behind stormy blue eyes. Usually they looked so clear. Usually he was clear, his intentions and his love, how he was trying to and learning to get used to this life. And for a while he really was. “Goddamnit!”

And then this happened. 

And it was scary. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it frightened you. A dead giveaway was how your ears flattened against your hair, once wagging tail now dead still and tucked between your legs. You’re cowering. 

You were afraid. 

But Leon didn’t notice. No, this was the end of a short fuse after a long week of work. A flame to the stick of dynamite Leon Scott Kennedy sometimes found himself to be. This was not what he wanted to come home to. He was too busy pulling at his hair in a nostalgic wave of guilt, of horror clawing up his back, staring at the mess.

The mess you’d made.

Cracked fingers pick at the shattered glass in hopes of salvaging what he could, the sharp edges slicing at the flesh that had grown tender with your touch. 

You’d made him soft.

Had that been a mistake?

It must have been with the way he flinched back, cursing under his breath. Shards of the frame bit at his fingers as if in anger, snapping dogs of his past. Not like his pup, not like his sweet girl curled up in the corner, wondering if this meant he hated her.

That wasn’t the worst part.

Right across the top corner of the photo the paper had been scratched, ripped by a stray piece of glass. Slicing through the date he’d graduated. The day he thought everything was going to start getting better way back when. The sight had his whole body frozen in place. Bracing for something to happen, because something always happened to him. The feeling building from his belly to his chest, from his chest to his eyes. It was sickeningly familiar. It was a bullet to Leon’s shoulder. It was the click of a lighter to a cigarette. The screams from an Eastern European church. His bloodied fists against Arias’ face. The mole in his unit.

It was the gunshot that ripped through his family home. 

That’s what really set him off.

“This was the one thing I had from it all, this was it! The one good thing!” Rambling like a mad man, someone you’d watch talk to himself on the sidewalk late into the night. “And it was in such- such good condition. It was perfect. It was all perfect before you- Damn it, pup, why couldn’t you-”

By the time he’d finally turned to you, his words screeched to a halt. Brakes squealing at the velocity of such a hit, a surprise, he could feel his heart overturn. Rolling haphazardly down the highway. He couldn’t stop it, because he caused it. He caused such an accident. So busy running on empty thanks to work that the dried out tank had crushed beneath his feet, crunching steel caving so easily. Weak. You were weak for him. He was just only seeing it now.

He’d hurt your feelings, whether he meant to or not. Over an accident, no less.

He was the reason your body was quaking in fits similar to that of a leaf atop frozen winds. Why your eyes were shot open, glossy and round, like the first cracks in the icy pond at your favourite park making way for water. And you looked like you’d plunged through the surface. 

Maybe the most awful detail of all was the fact that Leon simply didn’t know what to say to make this better.

Licking over his chapped lips, the air in his lungs seemed to dissipate. He was left breathless, and not in the way he usually liked to be. Not like when he watched you pick at the dandelions in the backyard, or when you chased your tail in circles to the point of dizziness. Someone had trapped him in a vacuum of consequences, leaving him to face them. To face you, you and those big puppy-dog eyes threatening to flood with tears. “Look I didn’t- Oh, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like-”

It wasn’t working. His words were getting caught in his throat, pulling a tense cough from his chest. As if the answer was teasingly scratching at his vocal chords and no amount of water could wash it away. He could feel his chest tighten, any trace of anger or frustration being flushed from his system. Now he could think clearly. He could see how heartbroken you were.

The biggest giveaway was how your body leaned in the direction of the living room without thinking, braced on your toes. An instinct dug deep beneath those layers of fuzz and the warmth of your hand in his own. Something to be left untouched, like a toy you’d buried in the backyard, under pile after pile of soil and past traumas. 

Now Leon had dirt on his hands. The clouds in that stormy blue seemed to clear out, the moonlight streaming through the window like a lighthouse reflection. He was seeking you out, trying to let you know it was clear. That you were safe.

It just wasn’t enough.

“Hey.. Hey, no. Honey-

It was no use. He’d blinked and you were gone, left with the echo of your sock-clad footfalls against hardwood floors. Every step beating in unison with his pulse, his ears rang to the rhythm of your rushed breaths. Now you were the one pulling him along on a leash. Tugging at the weak retractable cords of his heartstrings, you’ve wrapped him around a tree once, twice, three times. His head was spinning, a splitting heat sizzling in his frontal lobe frying the edges of his mind until they curled. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, smearing the guilt from cheek to cheek, up to his forehead. He was swimming in that grief. Mourning a time before this one, praying for a reset button. You had such a way of turning him inside out without knowing it, pulling his muscles and bone up from his anatomy to gnaw affectionately on his femur and nip at his biceps. He barely hid anything from you, he never felt the need to. Who were you going to tell? The mosquitos you stalked after with a batting tail in the cooler summer nights? Please. And half the time you didn’t really understand what was going on, anyway. So there was no harm in letting you lay your head in his lap while lounging on the couch, his voice a deep lullaby soothing you to sleep, aimlessly tapping your tail against the cushions. You were so pure. You didn’t mean any harm, you never did. Leon wasn’t sure you had one malicious bone in that cute body of yours. 

How was he supposed to approach this, though? This had been the first major incident in your white-picket-fence-esque lifestyle. Did he go upstairs and change out of clothes dusted in gunpowder and shame? Try with a clean state so you had some time to yourself, some space? Is that what you wanted?

No. No, knowing your usually chipper clingy self that was probably the last thing you wanted. So he manned up, got his shit together. An unusual thing for him to say about himself, but he was in an unusual situation.

After shrugging his leather jacket off and leaving it to hang on the coat rack, he swore to leave his aggression with it. Tucked into the pockets and zipped tight, so he might save it for his next mission. There was no use in bringing shit like that into his home, where his girl was. So he’d let it gather like lint until the next time he washed it, then he’d let his conscience run through a spin cycle; in which he meant watching you do three little spins before settling into bed. You were better than any washing detergent, cleaned his slate better than disinfectant. They should sell your personality in stores, bottle your giggles for junkies to get hits off. You could be the next meth with how happy you made him, had him flying high as a kite.  

And he’d made you so sad. He was your daddy, it was his job to keep you safe, not sad. Now he had to fix that.

Your playpen. It was a puppy’s dream to get the luxuries you did, most likely. Leon couldn’t help but spoil you with everything soft, plush and velvet. It matched you. And watching you lay in front of the window, squeaky toy mid squeal lodged between your jaws lazily, was worth all the money in the world to him. Everything you did drove him nuts, he was starting to realise why so many people suggested getting a hybrid. Leon hadn’t understood what the deal was until you arrived. And now? Oh, he needed a lobotomy at this rate, because all he could think of was you. Work? You. Driving? You. Hell, his breaktime at the office made him miss the way you’d yell ‘Are you doneeeeee?’ at him from down the hall, awaiting your allocated cuddle time. You had him chasing his own tail, and he didn’t even have one.

Draped in a paw-print blanket and stuffed full of toys, the sides of your food and water bowl lovingly chewed on. Always sinking those canines into whatever you could. Well, whatever you could that wasn’t out of the question. Shoes were a big no no, the sprinkler system too, Leon was sure to make that clear. Not like the water tasted any good from it, anyway. 

With a quiet grunt (he really wasn’t getting any younger) he slowly kneeled down, denim brushing over varnished wood, peeking through the open gate of your pen. Despite having both feet on the ground - well, rather two knees - this still felt risky to him. Not like disarming a bomb, more like negotiating a hostage situation. Taking your hand in his own to lead you away from himself.

He kept his voice soft, quiet, as gentle as someone of Leon’s stature and nature could be. Like asking a wolf to hide its fangs, but he did his best.

“Hi there, darlin’.” 

He always did his best with you.

Well, almost always.

No answer. Just the sound of your meek panting, sniffling between breaths. Tears making every inhale salty in your nose and on your tongue. You always preferred it sweeter. He hated being the reason your mouth felt off, watching you run your pink tongue along your cheeks as if trying to get the taste out. At least you were still awake. Amidst the darkness of your cage he could see you buried under a mountain of blankets, digging yourself in like a tick. Head burrowed in tight, he felt like even if he tried to gently coax you out by the body you’d keep shuffling along into the plush. He’d have to stop this from the root, twist and pop you out gently. So he tried that with words. 

“You wanna come out of your little cave there?”

The brief whimper that passed your lips was enough of an answer for him, no words had to be spoken for him to catch on. He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair enough. Daddy was a bit of a dick, huh?”

The slight movement under piles of pink and yellow told him your tail was wagging, and that made his heart hurt even more. It was bleeding through his shirt at this point, darlin’. Don’t do that to him, he’s too old to deal with this kind of pain. Might just kill him one of these days. Because even after he’d snapped at you, broken down the walls of trust you’d both spent months building, you were still reaching out to place a new brick down. To keep it all from crumbling. Leon rested his palms on the scuffed denim of his jeans. Sure, he’d done his schooling, graduated and all that, but now he found himself searching the corners of his mind for the right words. Like he was putting a puzzle together, trying to piece syllable to noun to verb until they clicked. But they didn’t exactly click. Then again, nothing ever did with Leon. 

Except you.

“I didn’t.. Mean what I said. I just cut myself off at the worst time possible. I wasn’t thinking. Da-” he paused himself for a moment. Fuck, it’d become a bad habit. Was it still okay to call himself something like that in this kind of situation? “I’m not very good with words. M’ better with actions, y’know. Making things, helping people. I’m not exactly a wordsmith here, darlin’.” 

There was a rustle. In the darkness of your pillows and blankets you found room to move. And he could tell it was closer to him from how the pile slouched in his direction, indicating the shifting of your body. You looked a bit like a molerat to be honest, an adorable one, or one of those prairie dogs, with the way your head makes an evident dent in the covers. He wouldn’t tell you that, though. Might take it the wrong way. 

Out pops your fluffy ears, the silhouette of your tearful face. His stoic demeanour over the years shatters like that same photo frame, how the hallway’s dim lighting catches in your glossy eyes. It’s like looking at the moon in all her solemn sadness, amongst the stars, alone.

He can’t leave you like that. 

“Hi, baby.” It’s a whisper. He’s too scared if he talks any louder you’ll huddle back up. He never wants to make you worried, or frightened, or anything really. He loves you just the way you are.

“Hi..”

Leon had no idea how much he’d missed that voice until he heard it for the first time after a long lonesome 20 minutes of silence. It’s an icepick to his frozen mind, chipping away those worries he had of you maybe never talking to him again. You were a sweet thing, but also sensitive. It was part of the reason he cared for you so deeply. You’d dug down under his skin, doggy-paddled through his blood stream and settled comfortably right on his heart. 

“..Are you gonna, y’know,” Through the dark haze of shadows and soft rain against the windows, he could see you fiddling with your fingers. You’re nervous. Voice small and isolated, muffled through your soundproofing of comfy blankets and soft stuffies. It only made his head ache more. “Take me back?”

That one threw him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question, if anything he thought you’d ask if you were still in trouble. “Back? Back where?”

“..The shelter.”

He couldn’t see his own face, but he could just imagine how it twisted in confusion. “What? No, darlin’.” 

“Oh..”

Yeah. Oh. So that’s what all of this had been about. It wasn’t just him yelling, it was the thought that you might get boxed up and shipped back. Kicked to the curb. Leon pictured it again, your shivering frame on the street, or back in that damp kennel surrounded by yelling dogs and strict meal times. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Cause I broke something, and I was too rowdy.. I can’t sit still..”

The very reason he’d adopted you in the first place was to save you from that life, one of struggle and pain and sadness, yet you still feared it. Solely for, what, acting like a puppy? The very thing you were a hybrid of? If he weren’t so worried about you he’d be pissed at the world in all honesty.

“Baby, is that how you ended up there? Did someone..” He had no time to finish that question before you were nodding. You looked so ashamed, it ripped him in two. Someone had shoved his heart through a paper shredder and used the strips to line a hybrid play-pen floor. 

Returned, handed off, a hand-me-down. That’s what you saw yourself as. Damaged goods. His voice cracked as he muttered softly, his face painted in nothing but sympathy. “Oh, puppy..”

Almost instantly a ball of fluff came barrelling out of the playpen right into Leon’s chest, a winded ‘oof!’ puffed from the man’s ribs. Could’ve cracked them with the force of your love. Softer than any cannon ball, fuzzier than any bullet. Yet you still managed to have him coughing out a chuckle, his nose nuzzling up into your hair. He couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Because it was a sure sign that you didn’t hate him.

“There’s my girl.”

A meek whine bubbled up from your throat at the sheer joy of being back in your owner’s embrace, enveloped in his comforting smell. And Leon couldn’t resist resting his chin on your head as you sat crumpled in his lap. A scarred-over hand brushing through your hair, rubbing bruised thumbs over the soft velvet of your ears. Every touch, every loving gesture had your tail whipping against the floorboards. You truly were his good girl. Still sniffling, you tilted your head in that sweet puppy way to look at him properly, taking in the face of the man who you loved more than anything; yes, that included treats, walks, and toys. It was quite the accomplishment, an honour really. Leon should be proud of himself for that one. 

“M’ sorry..”

There it was again, always saying sorry for things you didn’t mean to cause. Sometimes things you didn't even do. He shook his head at even the thought of that. Not scolding, but shushing. Like he didn’t want to hear you apologise for something that was hardly your fault. “Sweetheart, hey. It’s alright. I can always get a new picture frame, it’s no problem. What I can’t get is a new puppy. Wanna know why?”

Of course you did, that was a silly question. But he loved watching your ears flop as you nodded, made his pulse flutter like he had a butterfly in his veins, or a hummingbird. Humming away to the steady thrum picking up in pace. “Cause there’s only one you. And frankly, I’ve already called dibs, so I’m not givin’ you up for anything.”

That seemed to settle something in you, the pace of your tail picking up to its regular happy thump. Large hands encased either side of your head to brush over your fluffy ears, the velvety texture smooth under years of scarred tissue. And that fresh cut he had yet to bandage up. That could be done later, though. Right now he was more focused on plastering a hello-kitty bandaid over your heart. Leon was bad at this stuff, real bad. If there was a class for hybrid owner’s he’d have been expelled in seconds, set a new world record. Because even after having you with him for months he had to admit, he still had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to make that clear, no point in lying to you.

Gravelly voice turned smooth and soft, someone had put his whiskey rocks through a blender. He was a slushy now because of you. A messy, overpriced, alcoholic slushy. 

 “But I wanna try my hardest to make you feel loved here. Because believe me, you are. You and all your.. Energy, let’s say. You’re my fluff ball, aren’t ya?”

He doesn’t need words, words aren’t a strong suit for either of you. So he settled for the affectionate lick to the cheek you gave him, followed by your high pitched whine when you snuggled down into his lap with wiggling hips. Makes a huff of laughter rumble from his chest, not like the thunderous yelling you once heard. This was that of a car’s slow movement, of white noise to sleep.

Because at the end of the day you were each other’s peace. 

Lips press to your hair in a gentle manner, and Leon found himself nuzzling his nose down against your own.

 “Yeah you are. You’re daddy’s best girl.”

It’s a balm for the wounds on your soul, settling into his arms like you were made for them. Manufactured with his name printed across your heart where no-one could see it, you’d just had to find him. And now you had, and he had no intention of letting you go. If he could, he’d velcro you to his body.  

Yeah, Leon swore he’d never let you go.

And he might be a bastard at times, but he made good on his promises.

The next week you were walking past the hall of photos, the one Leon commissioned of you and him out in the backyard was already hung. The outtakes of you sprinting off to chase a squirrel mid-shutter are his to keep tucked in his wallet, though. For the longer work days or boring lines at the DMV, all that shit. 

 But the formal one, the proper one, is right above the new frame you insisted on decorating for his graduation photo. Complete with smiley stickers and paint and hearts he’d carefully exacto-knifed around to give a clear view of his picture. You’d jumped around like a bouncy ball when he was cutting the excess sticky paper away, little yaps of ‘Is it done?! Is it finished?! Can I see it?!’ like you hadn’t been the one to seal it in glitter glue in the first place. 

And honestly, he loved it. Like you were leaving your pawprints on his past, making a new path of swaying tails and giggling fits to lead him with a tugging leash into his brighter future. Like you were meeting an older version of him. One before he became a little more bruised, a little more cold. But you’d helped chip that down with your tugging paws and cute canines.

He was softer now. And he’d decided yes, that was a good thing. Meant he was more suited for you, more tender with you. 

“C’mon, babygirl. Wanna go for a walk?” He already knows the answer. But watching you skitter on your feet to sprint towards him never gets old. Wagging tail and voice chirping.

“Can we get a pup cup on the way back? Please?”

Because if that freshly appointed rookie cop version of Leon could meet you, he’d be just as in love with you as he is right now. 

“Aw I’m not made of stone now, am I sweetheart?”

And he’d agree, that new frame looks much better.

Consider buying me boba!

[togrowoldinv]

Cheeseburgers

Brie Larson x Reader

When you accompany Brie to an award show, your feelings for her are revealed

Note: First Brie fic yay! This is a fluffy little something. I hope y’all enjoy!

Main Masterlist

When the door opens, your breath catches in your throat. Standing in front of you is the most beautiful woman in the world. You know for sure that you’re in love with her.

But she is only your best friend.

“So, what do you think?” Brie asks you. She steps closer to you and spins so you can get a full view of her outfit.

“You are so beautiful,” you tell her. She smiles so wide that her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you, y/n. I’m so glad you’re coming with me tonight.”  

Her hair and makeup artists get to work on her again, and she ushers you to get dressed. It isn’t the first event Brie has taken you to, but it is definitely the most dressed-up you have gotten. You wear colors that match her perfectly.

Once you’re both ready to go, you ride in the car with her. Brie talks your head off about the evening that’s coming up. She tells you that she’s most excited about getting a cheeseburger afterward. That makes you chuckle.

“Are you ready?” Brie asks when the car stops.

“Oh, I thought I would be going in a different way,” you reply. She usually goes on the carpet without you.

“I want you to come with me. Please?”

You say yes. As if you could ever say no to her and that precious pouty face she makes when she wants something.

The red carpet is a bit overwhelming, but Brie keeps her hand in yours as long as she can. It feels so natural. You wonder if she feels it, too.

She does her photos and interviews flawlessly, as always. You watch on in awe. Once inside, you settle at your table. You make small talk with the other people. Brie is a natural at captivating everyone. She reunites with some old castmates.

When it comes time for her category, she reaches for your hand under the table.

“You’re going to win,” you whisper to her.

It’s not about the awards, but you know she secretly hopes she will win. When the camera pans to her, she offers a shy smile. The presenters open the envelope and call her name.

“Yes!” You cheer, being the first to stand up. Brie hugs you, and you kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

She shares a few more hugs on her way to the stage as the applause erupts all throughout the building.

“Thank you,” Brie says, taking the award into her hands. “Wow, I didn’t prepare a speech, but I will wing it.” She continues on to give an amazing speech, not to your surprise. She has always been a natural speaker.

“And thank you to my amazing friends and family. Especially my y/n. I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” she finishes.

The crowd cheers for her again. You can’t help but tear up at how proud of her you are. She takes photos backstage before she comes back to the table.

You greet her with a huge hug. Even bigger than the one before. She hugs you so tight that you can barely breathe.

“I’m so proud of you, Brie,” you tell her again.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking a little.

“Are you alright?” You ask her.

She pulls away from the hug just enough to look you in the eye. You hold her face in your hands, and she sees the way you care for her in your eyes. You feel like the only two people in the room.

“Y/n,” Brie begins.

You interrupt her with a kiss to her lips. She kisses you back, her hand finding a way to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You’re both smiling so much that you have to stop kissing.

“I love you,” Brie says.

“I love you, Brie. I always have,” you reply.

Brie kisses you again before you two come back to reality. The commercial break is over, and you have to sit down. You hold her hand under the table for the rest of the night.

When the night is almost over, Brie gets her cheeseburger that she’s been waiting for.

“Still the best part of the night?” You ask her.

“No,” she says. Brie kisses your lips softly, but she lingers long enough that you want to chase after her for more. “That’s the best part.”

“I agree, sweetheart.”

“Come home with me?” She asks, a glint in her eye.

You take her hand and leave the awards show together. After parties are the last thing on your mind. You just want to spend the night with the most beautiful girl in the world.

She is finally yours.

[mrvelocipede]

I had an old-ish cabled sweater that was a nice color (murky grey-green), 100% merino yarn, but that had never been particularly comfortable to wear. It was commercially-knit, so the size and shape were meant to fit an 'average' person, and it had a very tall turtleneck that had to be rolled down many times and was bulky and constricting. It had also suffered some moth damage over the years, so it had a couple of holes here and there.

And I've been needing a distraction from the many stressful aspects of modern life, so a couple of weeks ago I started taking it apart, to see if I could re-use the yarn. I spent days picking at the seams. After I successfully broke it down into flat pieces (front, back, sleeves, collar), I discovered that the sections had been cut to shape after they were knitted, and that only the lower parts of them could be unraveled into continuous lengths.

It was so densely cabled, though, that even the partial pieces have turned into a decent quantity of yarn. I've had to abandon my visions of re-knitting it into a different cabled sweater, but I might manage to make a plain stockinette one. Especially if it's a bit cropped, and I give it a crew neck instead of a turtleneck tube taller than my head.

I'm still debating the question of whether it might be worth splicing together some of the shorter lengths from the upper sections. Probably not.

[sludgevomit]

SludgeVomit’s Goretober Exhibition: Day 7

Deep Freezer

Arm was bent awkwardly at an uncomfortable angle as your body was pulled with force. Feet tripping over themselves as the speed was too much for your malnourished state. Having spent days filled with solitude in a closet with barely any care shown your way. Brain and flesh withering as each minute alone had sent you further into a pit of despair. With your psyche on the brink of destruction, you allowed Sir to direct you to the basement entrance. Tumbling down the wooden stairs with heavy, boulder-like thumps. Feeling an ache as the air deep in your lungs was exorcized. Lying limp, face contorting as a silent depression takes over. Howling with intense agony when a palms grasps onto the back of your head and neck. Sediments from broken bottles and erosion of the cement nipped at your skin; dragged along the ground as the man who now claimed you brought your figure to the side of the wall. The hands left your upper half, allowing you the opportunity to glance at the dented commercial chest freezer. Inconspicuous to others, but to you, you knew that this would become your new home.

The man lifted the top, cold and warm air mixing to create plumes of icy smoke. Rummaging through the packages of uncooked meat, animal and human, making room for the new piece to get comfortable in. Hoisting the body with ease, raising the back of his hand in a threatening manner when the body tried to fight for a moment to escape. Enclosing them in darkness, leaving the Meat with the sounds of chains locking them in. Sir wrapped his legs around an old folding chair, crossing his arms over the backrest. Allowing the time to pass, waiting with eager patience for the muscle to begin to freeze. For stiffening joints and tightening skin. Figure shaking as the heart slows with dying temperatures. Only then will the man release the being from the frozen cell. To bring it back to life with warm, heavy thrusts penetrating unconscious weight. Hole squeezing as pleasure takes over even while asleep. A piece of Meat now compliant to the man’s romantic abuse.

[lavender-vixen]

Please please please do one with Patrick braiding the reader's hair, and she has a crush on him, but he doesn't know. No rush!

i love this <3

you're in science class, watching a film projection about cellular mitosis. the images are flickering, and the old projector equipment hums. someone from the av club had to come help the teacher set it up.

you ran a hand through your long, loose hair, trying to get rid of the tangles. finally, you took out a small comb from your pencil case and began working your way through the tangles. the sun-in you'd sprayed in your hair before school wasn't getting the proper sunlight it needed in this dark classroom.

patrick sat behind you, so uncomfortably close, as most of the desks in the room were crammed in to make space for the projector. you'd never actually spoken to him, but you'd exchanged a few glances in passing. nothing memorable. when you got up to sharpen your pencil at the back of the room, you stole a peek at him.

he looked bored, slouched in his seat, his long legs spread out in front of him, idly fiddling with a pair of scissors.

as you sat in front of him, you could feel his eyes on you. it was hard to explain, but you just knew he was staring. you try to focus on the film, but it's hard with patrick hockstetter sitting right behind you.

his presence was always distracting. he had this aura of trouble. he was all lazy smirks and slouched posture. you'd heard the stories, and seen the way people avoided him in the halls.

suddenly, you felt a slight tug on your hair, just enough to pull you from your thoughts. you froze, your heart skipping three beats.

turning your head, you spotted him holding the pair of shiny scissors, his hand paused midair, a determined look on his face.

"what are you doing?" you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. the sight of him with scissors so close to your beautiful, long hair sent a chill down your spine.

"relax," he said, grinning like it was the most normal thing in the world. "i wasn't gonna cut it. not yet, anyway."

your jaw dropped, and a mix of indignation and shock rushed through you. before you could respond, he shrugged and brushed your hair toward his desk. "it's all over my space," he said casually.

your hair was long...too long...and practically spilling over the back of your chair, brushing the edge of his desk. silky and neat, like something out of one of those shampoo commercials, and entirely too tempting.

"here, rapunzel, let me fix it," he said.

fix it? before you could process what was happening, you felt his hands in your hair, tugging gently but firmly. he was braiding it. braiding it.

"what are you doing?" you whispered again, feeling a blush creep up your neck. you glanced around, but no one seemed to notice.

"fixing it," he said again, his tone bored but oddly focused.

you blinked in disbelief. "you know how to braid?"

he shrugged. "kinda. tied fishing knots with my dad all the time. same thing."

the tugging at your scalp was rhythmic, almost soothing, and you found yourself relaxing despite yourself. it was...nice. but you refused to let him see that.

"did you do the homework?" he asked suddenly, his voice low. you shivered slightly at how close he was.

"yeah. why?" you asked, your instincts telling you not to trust whatever he was about to say.

"because i didn't," he said bluntly. he held your hair in one hand and rummaged through his backpack with the other, pulling something out. "i'll trade you this fruit roll-up if you let me copy it."

you frowned, crossing your arms. "no."

he leaned in closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your neck. "c'mon. i'll even promise not to cut your hair."

your heart was pounding now, and you hated that he was getting to you. "fine," you whispered sharply, digging out your notebook and shoving it toward him.

"good girl," he said with a smirk, flipping it open with one hand. "damn, your handwriting is annoying."

you bit your lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet. it was better to ignore him than give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"here," he said, holding out the fruit roll-up.

"i don't want it," you said quickly, shaking your head.

he shrugged and dropped it on your desk anyway. "take it."

you picked it up and tossed it back at him. “i said, no.”

“whatever.” then, without asking, he picked up here he left off with your hair, finishing the braid.

you glanced at the clock, praying for the class to end, but at the same time, you couldn't deny how good it felt...his hands moving through your hair, the gentle pull at your scalp. it was oddly intimate, and your cheeks burned at the thought.

from across the room, your friend caught your eye, her expression one of complete disbelief. you shrugged helplessly and offered a small, sheepish smile.

when patrick finished, he paused. "what do i tie it with?" he muttered, more to himself. "i could make a knot out of it."

"no, don't do that." you pulled the white, fluffy scrunchie from your wrist and handed it to him. "here."

he held it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. "what the hell is this?"

"a scrunchie," you said, rolling your eyes.

he tied it around the braid, though not without muttering, "this thing looks dumb."

the teacher's voice cut through the darkness from the front of the room: "mr. hockstetter, if you're done playing beauty shop, perhaps you'd like to join us in taking notes during the film?"

your cheeks flushed, but patrick just shrugged, completely unbothered. "yeah, sure, mr. andrews," he said lazily.

as the teacher turned back to the screen, patrick leaned in close, his voice a whisper against your ear. "he's such an asshole. hey, meet me after next period. i'll give you my calc homework."

you glanced back at him, frowning. his face was inches from yours. "why?"

"because i owe you," he said simply. then, with a smirk, he added, "and i'm generous like that."

after class ended, you gathered your things slowly, heart pounding. you could feel patrick watching you still, his eyes burning a hole in your back.

he brushed past you on his way out, close enough that his shoulder lightly bumped yours. "don't forget," he murmured, low and smooth, before disappearing into the hallway.

your friend melanie rushed to your side immediately. "what the hell was that about?" she hissed, glancing toward the door patrick just exited.

"nothing," you mumbled, though your cheeks betrayed you, flushing hot under her scrutinizing stare.

"that was not nothing. he was braiding your hair. patrick freaking hockstetter. you know what people say about him, right?"

you nodded, trying to dismiss her. "i know. it's fine. he's just...weird."

but even as you said it, you weren't sure you believed it. the memory of his hands in your hair and the way he leaned close still lingered.

after your next class, you were at your locker when you spotted him leaning casually against the wall across the hall. he wasn't looking directly at you, but it was obvious he was waiting.

you considered pretending you didn't see him, but something compelled you to walk over.

"hey," you said awkwardly, clutching your books to your chest.

patrick looked down at you, his smirk sliding into place. "took you long enough," he said, pushing off the wall. he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket and held it out to you. "here. calc homework. told you i'd give it to you."

you hesitate before taking it, your fingers brushing against his. it was warm, and you pulled back quickly, feeling like you'd just touched a live wire.

"thanks," you mumbled, unfolding the paper. his handwriting was a mess, barely legible scrawls and smudges, but it was there.

"don't thank me yet," he said with a chuckle. "i haven't checked it or anything, but i'm hardly ever wrong."

at lunch, you were sitting with your friends when patrick strolled past your table with henry bowers. he didn't stop, didn't say anything, but he dropped a cherry fruit roll-up onto your tray.

your friends immediately started whispering. "oh my god, what is happening? why is he..." melanie started.

"i don't know!" you whispered back, feeling your face heat up.

later in the hallway, he found you again. "you done copying my homework?" he asked, leaning a little too close.

you nod. "yeah, but i still don't get any of it. i'm screwed for the test."

"good," he said, flashing a grin. "then you'll need my help after school."

"what makes you think i need your help?" you shot back, surprising yourself with the boldness in your voice.

he grinned wider, crooked, clearly amused. "i'm clearly getting a better grade than you."

"uh-huh," you said skeptically, trying to ignore how close he was standing. people were watching as they passed by. "and what's in it for you?"

patrick was already walking away. "bleachers. after school."

against your better judgement, you found yourself walking toward the bleachers after the last bell. patrick was already there, slouched back with his legs stretched out.

"hey," he said, reclining. "thought you'd flake."

"i almost did," you admitted, climbing the steps cautiously.

he pulled his notebook out of his bag, flipping it open. "alright, let's see how shit you really are at this."

the two of you worked through the math problems, but he kept teasing you about your handwriting, the way you wrinkled your nose when you thought to hard, and the fact that you had pencils with your name on them.

you found yourself laughing more than you expected. when the work was done, patrick leaned back again, tossing his pen onto his notebook.

"guess you owe me now." his smirk was back.

you glanced at him, a tiny smile tugging at your lips. "guess i do."

he studied you a moment, his expression unreadable, before speaking. "actually, there's something you could do for me."

your heart skipped. you felt your pulse quicken as another blush crept to your face. "yeah?"

patrick looked across the field at the girl's soccer team warming up with drills then back to you. "you're friends with melanie, right?" he said, tilting his head toward your friend as she did a few stretches on the field, tying the laces on her soccer cleats. "the one who's always staring at me like she's scared or something."

you tilted your head in confusion. "yeah. what about her?"

"think she'd go out with me?" he asked, as if it were a passing thought he'd spoken aloud.

you blinked, stomach dropping. the words hit like a slap, and for a second, all you could do was stare at him.

"you...um, you want me to ask if she's interested?" you said, recovering as best you could, your voice quieter than intended.

"yeah," he said, leaning back again. "she seems...fun."

you forced a smile, even as your chest tightened painfully. "sure. i mean...i'll try."

"'atta girl." he grinned, clearly pleased. he got up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. his combat boots slammed against the metal bleachers as he jumped down a row. "see ya in chem."

you sat there for a long moment after he was gone, staring down at the finished homework in your lap. you didn't know why you felt so foolish, so crushed. maybe it was the way he smiled when he said her name, or maybe it was the realization that every teasing word, every fleeting moment of attention...it was all just a way to get to her. and you knew for a fact he'd done it on purpose.

you glanced toward the soccer field, where your friend waved to you, and sighed, offering a weak wave back.

patrick hockstetter is a jerk.