#poor rain feels guilty

[farewellneverland2004]

I love everything about this

Rain may be 10 lbs soaking wet, but he also loves his best friend.

[fallin2pieces]

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)

heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it..), cunnilingus, choking

authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭

- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.

- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.

- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.

- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed

- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.

- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.

- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.

- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.

- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.

- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.

- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you

- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.

- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.

- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.

- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.

- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.

- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.

- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you

- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.

- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.

- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.

- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.

- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this

- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.

- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.

- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.

- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.

- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.

- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.

- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you mumbled. it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle

- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.

- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself

- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees

- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.

- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.

- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.

- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.

- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(

- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..

- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.

- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.

- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own

- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.

- “you’re such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up

- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.

- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.

- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.

- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.

- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.

- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.

- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.

- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.

- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.

- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.

- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.

- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.

- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.

- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.

- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.

- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age that you barely even know who treat you with only lust no love, but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.

- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).

- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.

- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.

- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.

- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.

- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.

- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(

- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.

- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.

- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.

- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.

- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.

- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.

- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.

- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.

- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.

- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.

- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.

- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.

- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.

happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there

[sweatyracoon]

Perv! Skz! Headcannons

Warnings: Perv behavior, obsessed Skz!, smut, unsuspecting reader, actions of weirdos

A/n: MDNI, just my thoughts on how they would behave were they perverts <3

Perv! Chan- 2/10

Conflicted eternally once he starts having these thoughts about you. He wouldn't act on them because he respects boundaries and cares for your comfort.

Didn't see you that way until you started wearing more revealing clothes. A short white tee during one if your walks. Low and behold, it rained.

Your pink lace bra/bare chest appeared through the wet material, making the poor boy flush.

He didn't have an umbrella, so he used his large frame to cover you until you could find shelter. He wouldn't even look at you, unable to breathe when he does so.

He always saw you as a kind friend up until that moment. He always knew you were beautiful, but when he caught glimpse of your torso, glimmering with the combination of rain water and dim lighting, he thought you a god(dess) in disguise.

Since then, he would gift you clothes that were either a little too small, or crop tops. You never realized it was more for him than you, seeing as that was your style anyway.

He loves being able to dress you the way he wants, and relishes in the way you thank him, hugging him tightly so he can feel all of your curves underneath the thin cotton.

He also loves the way you smell. Your shampoo and perfume make a perfect seductive concoction, making him dizzy and unable to concentrate.

When he hugs you from behind, he would quietly inhale, eyes rolling back, a small smile on his face.

He likes holding your hand in his, seeing the size difference. It's not necessarily a size kink, he just likes knowing that he can mold his into yours in different ways.

Perv! Lee Know- 9/10

Not afraid to be excessive.

He would grab at your ass, but you thought nothing of it because he does it to literally everyone.

His hands would longer a bit longer, though .

Sometimes he would come to stand behind you without you noticing, and when you move to step back, you hit his hard chest, turning to look at his stoic face.

He likes being in close proximity of you, feeling calmer knowing you were there.

He would wrap his arms around your waist to bring you down on his lap, cuddling you tightly as you both sat.

He would massage your thighs, sometimes going a bit too high, brushing against the inner lining that reaches your jean zipper.

He would often flirt with you verbally, and also use a lot of praise when it comes to talking about you.

He likes brushing his hands against your cheeks at random, making your breath hitch, waiting for what he does next.

That damn bastard drops them with a smirk, walking away.

He would sing about you to you, making you blush.

He would randomly kiss your hand, sometimes kissing further up your arm until he reaches his neck.

One time he decided to nip at it, making you gasp. He laughed.

He would eventually make his way to your lips.

"Finally!"

Perv! Changbin- 4/10

Total gentleman.

He had known you for a while, so it was natural to form feelings, right?

Chan told him it was okay, but his thoughts made him think otherwise.

Why is he looking at your ass when you walk away?

Why is he looking at your semi-exposed chest when you lean over?

Why is he noticing how plump and kissable your lips are?

He takes care of himself at night when the thoughts become too much, but he wakes up feeling guilty.

You were his best friend. The one that has gotten him through so much. You would probably think him disgusting if you knew.

He would hold your hand when he's stressed, and as if it were muscle memory, you would in turn wrap your entire torso around his arm, hoping to calm him down.

When he eats, you eat right with him, if not more. It becomes fun and sweet. A memorable moment for him.

When he's hyper and joking, your there to laugh with him, even if no one else does.

He loves you.

He would think that you love him too, but he then realizes all of the thoughts he had the night before.

When you saw him sitting in the studio lost in thought, you asked him what's wrong.

"Y/n?! What are you doing here?"

He jumped on the small loveseat, snatching the pillow at his side and covered his center with it.

You looked at it, getting an idea of what was wrong.

"Need some help?"

Perv! Hyunjin - 6/10

Total lover.

He follows you like a lost puppy waiting for directions.

His eyes are always glossy when looking at you, a small smile plastered onto his face when he's near you.

He loves wrapping his long ass fingers around your thin forearm, grinning at how his hand could probably wrap around twice.

Definitely has a size kink.

Wraps his legs with yours if your lying together on the floor.

Blows at your ear to get your attention

Begs to let him draw you naked, meaning he needs you to undress in front of him for hours.

Of course you said no.

For now.

He would whine at your answer, saying he needed to see you.

Very forward about his needs with you, and how he needs you to be the one to help him.

But he does it in a way to not make you feel uncomfortable.

He came too close one day and ended up kissing the shell of your ear, making you both freeze.

Hyunjin knew he needed to do that again, but he didn't want to push too far.

He waited for you to say something.

"Do that again...just wanna see how it feels,"

Perv! Han- 7/10

Definitely a panty sniffer.

Never been caught.

He loves when you hug him from behind, or just in general really.

Loves being close to you so he can smell you. Whether it's sweat or perfume, he could sit next to you all day. Bask in your scent.

He steals your hoodies and wears them often, hoping it will run off onto him.

He also steals a few pair of undies, sniffing them late at night as he touches himself.

His eyes glazed over when you take your own sweatshirt off, your inner shirt raising, showing your tummy.

He sees the soft flesh, and wants to shove his face into your pillow like skin. He wants to knead his first fingers into your stomach.

He bites your shoulder lightly when hes feeling particularly needy, because he can't tell you otherwise.

You think he's just being playful.

He melts when you kiss his cheek.

Lingers too long when he hugs from behind, pressing his clothed dick too close to your ass.

Perv! Felix- 2/10

Gentleman number two.

Cares about your comfort more than anything, so tries keeping how he feels to himself.

Takes care of himself before bed or in the shower, of course, imaging you and your body.

When he's with you, he is just his normal self with slightly more blushing.

And smiling.

He would give you massages and tell you jokes as well as praise you.

He would call you beautiful at least forty times a day.

Loves hugging you from the side, just to feel you pet his head.

Also likes messing with your fingers, noticing they are slightly larger than his.

Loves when you tickle under his chin. He likes being seen as a small kitty when it comes to you.

Rests his head on your lap to hopefully feel the heat from your clothed center.

Also tries to smell between your legs when he's there.

Tries to memorize the scent.

Tries to feed you to see your tongue poke out as you take a bite.

Perv! Seungmin - 8/10

Crazy lad this boy is.

He's significantly taller than you, so he loves standing behind you just to see his shadow against your small frame.

Likes when you look up at him with sparkling eyes.

Boops your nose, watching as you scrunch your face in response.

He likes annoying you to see your mouth open wide as you complain about his actions.

He fights the urge to shove two of his fingers down your throat to shut you up.

He really wants to see you gag on them, tears trailing down your face as you take them.

He breathes heavy when he sees you wearing his sweater, hoping you would keep it on forever.

He grabs at your knees when you sit across from each other, knowing that your ticklish there.

When you get tickled, you let out breathy moans rather than giggles. Not on purpose. It was just your thing.

And he loved it.

At least twice a day he tickles you.

Gets hard at the sounds you make, leaving you suddenly afterwards.

Licks your neck randomly just to hear you call him puppy.

He would kill to be your puppy.

He loves it when you wrap your hands around his neck in a silent threat.

He melts when he hears you say his name.

One time you spit out your gum since it lost it's flavor.

Seungmin grabbed it and popped it into his mouth, loving the taste of you.

Perv! Jeongin - 10/10

Innocent baby that doesn't know how to deal with these feelings.

Tries to explain it but all that comes out are 'uhm' and 'uhh'.

You pet his head in comfort and he whines.

He humps your pillow in your guest room at his apartment.

You question the stains when you visit, making him blush.

Always red around you.

Can't help but brush his skin against you.

Hands everywhere.

Hates hugs unless they are from you.

Tries to grind into your side when you both cuddle. He loves feeling your soft exposed skin when your in your pajamas, making him hard immediately.

Kisses your shoulders randomly.

Drinks after you thinking it's an indirect kiss.

Uses your lip balm for the same reason.

Groans when he sees you in your bathing suit for the first time, hiding under the water in hopes his boner will go away with the cold water.

Dry fucks the stuffy you won him from a claw machine.

He never let you see it again after he stained it with his cum repeatedly.

Barely washes it since it smells like you and cum.

Thinks about wrapping his hand around your throat all day.

[admiringlove]

[16:45] . . .

you always tended to forget your umbrella. gojo had noticed that about you long ago.

you, someone who remembered everything about everyone, often forgot things about yourself. you were indecisive—laughably so, at that. every time you went to the local convenience store, it took you ages to choose something to eat or drink. it frustrated him. he was always irritated by how caring you were. there had to be some kind of ulterior motive beneath all that sweetness, right?

he recalled how you were often left stranded after class, sitting on the cold stone floor, waiting for the rain to pass. of course, he’d tease you. he didn’t care if you got soaked; he was the best, after all. he was gojo satoru, the one and only, so he didn’t have time to worry about trivial things, like whether a classmate would be left behind in the rain.

day after day, he’d walk away, taunting you as he waved goodbye. it was amusing, watching you sit there, mopey and upset. he’d laugh and point, pretending to be annoyed, even though you’d bought him cola earlier that day. it felt great to giggle as he left you behind, knowing you’d sit on the floor until the rain stopped.

it was fun, not caring.

it was fun until he started carrying an umbrella just because he felt guilty for laughing at you. he remembered that moment vividly—it made his blood boil. he’d stood there, holding out a clear umbrella above your head. you’d looked up at him, blinking innocently as you asked, “seriously? you brought me an umbrella?”

“just shut up and take it,” he had gritted his teeth.

from that day on, he made sure to always have one. that stupid, filthy, clear umbrella became a part of his routine, held over your head as you prepared to sit on the cold stone floor.

“why do you do this?” you asked one day, tilting your head as if you were both innocent and all-knowing. tsk, he thought, rolling his eyes at your obliviousness. what an absolute idiot.

“i don’t know. maybe i just like doing nice things for poor people,” he retorted.

that’s how your friendship had started. seamlessly, you slipped into the routine that included him, geto, and shoko. suddenly, you were part of their plans to go to kfc or grab ice cream. you were there when gojo wanted to shoot hoops with them, always in the background, ready to chime in whenever he teased nanami about something, quick to point out that he was being a rude git.

he hated you—or at least, that’s what he told himself. he hated how nice you were, how you always sought out ways to keep everyone happy. it made his skin prick with irritation. there was something about you that constantly ticked him off. why did you insist on buying him cola from the vending machine, knowing he’d only drink half the can before tossing the rest? why did you always go to the cashier with geto at kfc? why did you feel the need to help him with everything? couldn’t you see that you weren’t as strong as he was? or were you just dense?

“tell me something,” you’d once asked, rain drumming against the umbrella he held over your head. you walked by his side, swinging your arms like a carefree child while gojo found himself trapped in this small act of kindness. geto had already gone home, and he figured shoko was off buying cigarettes, leaving him stuck in the downpour with you. “why did you start being nice to me all of a sudden one day?”

“what do you mean?” he replied, narrowing his eyes at you. your gaze met his, an unspoken understanding passing between you. you knew he understood your question; he just didn’t want to answer it. but you pried anyway, because that’s just who you were. “i mean the way you randomly started bringing me an umbrella every day, even though you don’t need it. the way you drag me along to get fried chicken. and how you don’t say anything when i call you an asshole for teasing nanami about his hair.”

gojo sighed, caught off guard. for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to answer a question. or maybe, deep down, he knew the answer, but the thought terrified him. he didn’t want to let those feelings out from their hidden corner of his mind.

“i don’t know. i just felt bad, i guess,” he mumbled, glancing away. he could tell you were dissatisfied with his response, but he chose silence instead. after all, he was the greatest. he couldn’t let his guard down, could he?

it irked him how intuitive you were. you read him like an open book, every single damn time. whether he was hungry, sad, or just generally irritated—which was usually the case—you always seemed to have the perfect solution. somehow, you’d have a snack handy for whenever gojo felt the gnawing hunger creep in. you’d crack a joke just when he felt like shit, and you always knew the right thing to say to get him all riled up.

like he’d said before, it was fun. until it wasn’t.

because one day, he was carrying an umbrella over your head. and the next, he was yelling at you for following geto out of the institute like a fucking sheep.

"how can you just leave me like that?" he yells, eyes wide and chest heaving. the rain pours down around him, but he doesn’t hold an umbrella for you. not anymore. he lets the rain envelop you, watching as the water trickles down to the tips of your fingers and toes, almost hoping it makes you sick. "how dare you and geto just walk away from my life as if nothing ever happened?!"

"nothing ever happened, satoru," you mumbled, "why do you think i left? it's because nothing ever happened."

"no!" he'd retorted, "you left because you're a fucking coward! you can't face your feelings, so you hide behind geto's stupid ideology that only sorcerers can exist. are you really telling me you're that disillusioned that you actually believe in him?"

"you could do it, couldn’t you? if you wanted?" you asked, your voice cracking under the weight of unspoken feelings. he paused for a moment, breath catching in his throat. geto had said the same exact thing, and it hit him like a brick.

“i don’t care about that!” he shot back, desperation lacing his tone. “come back. let me fix things-”

“there’s nothing to fix, satoru!” you yelled now, your voice piercing through the relentless downpour. the rain lashed against you, a cold, unforgiving torrent that blurred the world around you. droplets cascaded down your face, tracing a path along your skin, pooling beneath your chin before plummeting to the ground. each drop felt like a whispered goodbye, a farewell that mingled with the earth below—a reminder of all the moments lost between you. “there was nothing there anyway! what are you going to fix?”

as the rain soaked through your clothes, it clung to you like the memories that haunted both of you. it dripped from the tips of your hair, creating tiny rivers that carved a path down your neck and into the fabric of your shirt. each droplet seemed to echo your heartache, amplifying the silence between you, drowning out the possibility of what could have been.

he snaps back to reality when he realizes it's started to rain. standing on the same cold stone ground where you used to sit, he watches as the droplets hit the earth, relentless and unforgiving. each drop falls like a bitter reminder of that day—the day he said goodbye to you for the last time, a farewell shrouded in unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

“shit,” he whispers, glancing down at the umbrella in his hand.

the irony isn’t lost on him. even now, he finds himself carrying this clear, flimsy shield; a remnant of your influence in his life. it’s absurd, really. how you were now an enemy. how geto was gone and how truly alone he felt. but yet, he found himself standing here like an idiot. an absolute fool—something he used to think you were for being so kind to everyone for no reason at all.

he still hated you. now, more than ever. he knew, deep down, that you probably still forgot your umbrella, wherever you were. perhaps a part of him longed to see you sitting on this cold ground again, a familiar sight that felt so distant now. he wished he could hold out that clear piece of plastic for you once more, just as he had done countless times before. he could almost hear your silly questions echoing in his mind, the way you’d gently prod him to talk about his feelings, pushing him to confront what he often ignored. and somewhere in his memory, he could almost hear you say something sappy like, "try becoming a better person, satoru."

he scoffed at the thought. had he really become better? he liked to think so. after all, he was still the greatest. but as he stood there, soaked in the rain, doubts crept in like a chill. was he really all that great if, at his core, he was just a failed, lonely, and unhappy man?

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[a-b-riddle]

Know Your Place (1): Ghoap x curvy reader

Warnings: petplay, bdsm dynamics, unhealthy relationship with food, child abandonment, reader has commitment issues, fatphobia, body image issues, smut. Simon is mean when it comes to looking out for his Johnny boy. Johnny is a golden retriever in human form. Kidnapping. Non-con, Dub-con. Simon wanted nothing more than to put you in your place. What gave you, an insolent little nobody, the right to hurt his poor pup? Granted, the lieutenant liked dishing out some pain, but nothing his sergeant couldn’t handle. But now Johnny seemed all tOo distant. Your rejection stinging more than he thought it would. Not that Simon blamed him for being mentally elsewhere. Johnny hadn’t shut up about you since the first time he had saw you and when you agreed to meet up, he was beaming. He went in knowing that you didn't "do repeats" and that this was just going to be a one time thing, but boy if he wasn't determined to eat his way to your heart. What he didn't expect was getting the best blowjob of his life and you sticking to your guns about it being a one time thing. He had insisted to Simon that he did good, but what if you didn't actually like it? Had you faked it? Deep rooted insecurities starting blooming again and Simon couldn't have that...

Your stomach twisted as you put the final touches on your makeup only with the intention of ruining it later. The guy had sent his STD results and it was the all clear. It had been a month since you hooked up with anyone. You should have been at least somewhat excited for the potential orgasm, but instead you couldn't help, but feel... guilty.

Phillip worked in finance, played polo and was adamant about how much he was into thick girls. You were used to the chubby chaser and on occasion the feeder. Your curves had always been held against you when most men wanted to be. Phillip was relatively attractive with a Colgate smile and soft blonde hair, but the entire thing wasn't as exciting as it had been last time.

Last time had been... different. The chemistry alone scared the fuck out of you.

How Johnny had touched you, held you, fucked you with his tongue had been something that had been keeping you up at night. A dirty little memory to help push you over the edge when you were stuck. Usually you had stuff to faceless scenarios, but you couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like if it weren't your glittery knotted dildo, but Johnny's thick cock instead.

But you were firm in your decision and stuck by your rules. They kept you safe and it always worked out for the best. You were too fucked up to actually consider a relationship. You were too fucked up to hold onto a casual fuck buddy. This was better. You still thought about Johnny, his disappointed face etched in your mind the last time you saw him. But no repeats were a rule for a reason. You would get too invested, you would scare him off and where did that leave you?

Alone.

And although alone was something you were a lot, it wasn't something you were necessarily good at being. At least you were alone by your own choice.

7:58

"Fuck." You had an hour before you needed to leave and you still hadn't mustered up even an ounce of excitement. Nothing to look forward to. You were drier than a fucking dessert and felt like the Brazilian you got was worthless. All that prepping and plucking only to back out.

Gonna have to cancel. Dinner isn't settling well. Rain check?

Ten minutes passed by before you got a reply.

Damn. Can't say I wasn't looking forward to it, but sure. Let me know when your free. -phillip

At least he was nice about it, but wrong use of your and who the fuck signs off on a text? He does realize you're messaging through a hook up app, right? Yeah. He's nice, but there was no way you'd be putting his dick in your mouth anymore...

Scrolling down you finally found the message that you had wanted to reply back to for weeks now.

You sure you wouldn't like to try again? I heard I'm much better the second time around.

You stared at the message before doing something you haven't done since you were in college.

Hey. Sorry, but I was wondering if you were free tonight?

His response almost immediate.

For you? Absolutely.

One repeat couldn't hurt.

Right?

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ APATHY OF THE CHIEF JUSTICE — NEUVILLETTE.

contents. archon quest spoilers, liddol weepy dragon neuvillette :(, established relationships, reverse comfort, lots of kissies 4 him, it’s a bit self indulgent my bad but he’s just a sensitive lil friendly guy who tries his best he makes me sad :(, maybe ooc idrk how to write him yet

it starts raining out of nowhere on a sunny day, hard. you frown—you know exactly what this means, walking up to neuvillette’s office in concern.

“good afternoon, sedene,” you smile, patting the melusine on the head. she leans into your touch happily, content with the small show of affection.

“good afternoon. if you’re here to visit the chief justice, i have to warn you. today, he seems…” sedene trails off, unsure how to finish, and you hum knowingly as you nod.

“i see,” you murmur, “i’ll see if i can help.” you turn and knock on the office door—it’s silent for a moment before you call, “it’s me.”

you hear some shuffling before neuvillette finally answers. it’s a quiet, “come in,” and nothing more. you sigh before entering—that can’t be a good sign.

neuvillette looks…well, devastated. with red rimmed eyes and a slightly pink nose, his cheeks trailed with delicate tears that break your heart. you walk over, cupping his cheek and brushing away a stray tear with your thumb as he closes his eyes.

“what’s got you so upset,” you murmur, “the weather has taken a rather drastic turn, wouldn’t you say?”

he sniffles, the poor thing—it’s as precious as it is heartbreaking. “i believe…i believe i may have made a mistake,” he mumbles, “a terrible one, in fact.”

“oh?” you raise a brow, leaning down and brushing your lips against his forehead soothingly, “i’m sure you’ve done your best, neuvillette.”

“no,” his voice breaks, a fresh round of tears falling past his lash line and staining his skin. you furrow your brows, cupping both sides of his face as your forehead presses to his, “no, i didn’t…i didn’t do what i should have. in fact, i did nothing at all.”

“i’m sure that’s not true,” you reason, “you always do what you can.”

“i could’ve stopped the duel,” he shakes his head, and instantly you know what must be on his mind. “i thought…i thought i understood but i didn’t. i still don’t.”

neuvillette doesn’t understand humans as well as he hopes—it’s changed a bit since you’ve shown up, but their emotions are far too complicated for him sometimes. you help him, sometimes—you try to show him they’re not much different from him, but he’s learning slowly on his own.

you nod slowly at his words, as if you understand, before pressing soft kisses along his face. you scatter them along his cheeks, over the tip of his nose, just at the corners of his mouth and right on the center of his forehead.

he sniffles again, miserably.

“oh, love,” you murmur gently—callas has always been a complicated topic, one you’ve carefully treaded since it’s happened. his lips wobble, and you pull him into you, letting his head rest against your chest as you sit on the armrest of his chair. “callas wasn’t your fault,” you whisper, “none of us could’ve known.”

“i believed he was guilty,” he confesses, “otherwise, why duel? i…i didn’t think he would do it for…”

“and you weren’t alone in your assumptions,” you reason. that doesn’t seem to make him feel any better—in fact, you feel your shirt dampen, and the rain hits the glass of his window harder.

“but i am the chief justice,” he insists, “how i can be so if i let innocent men throw away their lives?”

you’re silent for a bit—it’s difficult to give him an answer. it’s difficult to offer him any solace over something like this. but you do know it’s not his fault—and soon enough, you hope he’ll accept that too.

but until then, you thread your fingers into his hair as you press a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.

“being the chief justice doesn’t mean you have all the answers,” you say quietly, catching a tear as it slips down his cheek with your thumb, “you won’t have all the answers. but you’ll do your best to find them. i think that’s enough.”

“lady navia yelled at me,” he tells you. you want to chuckle a little at the way he says it, like child who’s been scolded—but now is not the time, not when he’s so upset. “a few days ago. because i did not stop it. she…she was right—”

“lady navia is grief stricken,” you interrupt, “you have to understand. she didn’t mean—”

“but i could’ve stopped it—”

“anyone could’ve, neuvillette,” you insist, “lady furina, or even clorinde. but no one knew, and that’s okay. it’s how callas wanted it, i’m afraid.”

he’s silent for a bit, weighs your words as he presses against your chest further, let’s your fingers trail through his hair and stroke along his cheek for a bit.

it rains in fontaine—whenever there is something to mourn, it rains. perhaps the people can know this way that they are not alone in their grief, that there is always something, someone to share the burden of pain with them.

“i’ll visit,” he mumbles after some time, “to pay my respects to mister callas.”

“i think that’s a lovely idea,” you smile, poking the tip of his nose and pulling the tiniest of smiles from him, “would you like me to come?”

“no, i think i should do it alone,” he says thoughtfully, “but thank you.”

you feel his hand grab yours, his fingers lacing with yours as he gives it a small squeeze—perhaps he still has a long way to go to understand humans and their complex emotion. but this one, he thinks he understands well enough.

he loves you, just as much as you love him—it’s simple enough to understand.

my lil cinnamon roll :( my emotional liddol weepy dragon :(

[artsarasp]

Did you do the vampire sy wip yet? :0

Really curious about that one!

- O

I did not! The vampire SY wip is something I started to write at 2 AM when I was unable to sleep and after bothering @drivebypainter for a prompt!

It's supposed to be pre-canon, Vampire SY is off doing his own thing and accidentally turns poor SJ into a vampire, WHOOPS- I guess I adopted an angry teen now??

Have a peek featuring SY being like "I have a conscience!" when actually he's just a little in denial and a picky eater.

Shen Yuan forgot a long time ago what it was like to not be hungry. The feeling of being completely full was as foreign as the warmth of the sun on his skin since his reincarnation.  He adjusted his large straw hat as he walked. The thick rain was dripping from a few holes in it and his clothes were soaked through but it didn't bother him. Most physical sensations didn't bother him anymore. Except hunger, of course.  He couldn't blame anyone for it, honestly! (Well, Maybe he could blame Great Master Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky for being an unimaginative piece of shi-) Being a knockoff Vampire in the prologue sections of a bad novel was already a challenge but his morally Imposed hunger strike was a torture of his own making.  Shen Yuan could have gone full evil vampire on any poor soul he encountered but that would have just drawn a HUGE target on his back for cultivators to aim at! He also couldn't help but feel horrible at the thought of just killing innocent people! You’d think being reborn as a bloodsucking demon would dampen the whole empathy thing, but no! He had modern sensibilities and a conscience! So he tried not to eat most of the time. Unless he really had to.  Or unless he had a perfect victim at hand. Wu Yanzi was just that. Scum.  Shen Yuan stepped off the beaten path and into the thick vegetation. He could hear his future victim talking with someone. His pace quickened immediately.  Wu Yanzi was a criminal and a murderer. Shen Yuan had no intention of playing hero as much as he would have loved to play the part of the righteous cultivator if things had been different right now he just wanted to eat something without feeling guilty about it.  “You useless thing!” The sharp sound of a slap stopped Shen Yuan in his tracks.  “Is this why I took you as a disciple? What a fucking waste. “ His prey said.

[vendetta-if]

Hi! Sorry if you've already answered this but what does each RO feel and think about MC path of either Justice or Revenge? (Heir path)

(Love to see what everyone else thinks as well)

I'm just curious to know what Rin truly thinks about MC going for revenge, because I feel like he's a bit reluctant? But also, an heir to a crime family going for justice? (Giving him over to the police after getting enough evidence to convict him) I can't really see him approve that, either.

I'm also curious of what their "preferred" heir MC is, Ruthless or Merciful, admired or feared etc.

Am definitely curious to know how that affects Ash as well. I love my little psycho MC (Definitely some Jinx vibes going on there) but then I get concerned and worried when I see Ash being like "Whoa, so cool! Never seen a body rain blood before, awesome! Whoo, murder! 🥳"

Then i'm like "Wait... No, this is bad Ash, BAD! Blood rain isn't awesome! It's horrifying! It's literally what happens in the APOCALYPSE! That's it, we're going to have a long talk when we get home about Wrong and Right!"

...then later when she gets her birthday present she'll giddily ask Luka if she can try torturing him too 😭

I feel so conflicted when Ash asks MC about what she will do with the killer... Then says what he wants, which is exactly the same, so I can't really tell him not to do the same... But it makes me so concerned every time, and guilty.

I don't want to bring my sweet, beloved firecracker down and even darker path than the one we're already on 😭

Ash and Rin prefer revenge to justice (letting the justice system do what it was supposed to do a long time ago). Probably because of the families and environment that they’re both raised and live in, they believe retaliation against such personal slight should be taken into their own hands.

However, whereas Ash’s revenge might be explosive and impulsive as they chase the quickest way to personally get their hands on the one who wronged them, Rin’s revenge is cold and calculating.

It’s full of reckoning, scheming, and pulling of strings behind the scenes and they’re content to let others to do the dirty work. They don’t really care about seeing the one who wronged them face-to-face and kill them with their own hands like Ash does.

That doesn’t make their revenge less personal though, and dare I say, sometimes, their revenge ends up being more drawn-out and torturous for the poor schmuck. The true definition of “revenge is a dish best served cold”.

And Rin does prefer Ruthless MC in the sense that they both have a more similar mindset. Of course, they’ll still love Merciful MC the same, but being with such kind MC makes them highly protective of them since they don’t want to see them get hurt or taken advantage of.

They’ll do whatever it takes to keep MC safe behind MC’s back, doing the necessary things that Merciful MC might not have the heart to do themself. Same thing with Ash as well, which is why in the Ash/MC/Rin poly, Ash and Rin will actually become really close and trusted confidantes of each other because they—almost all of the time—have the same mindset and overarching goal.

Santana and Skylar, of course, prefer justice and letting the right people dispense due punishment. Although, a more cynical Santana might not be too opposed to MC having revenge as well since they’ve seen firsthand how corrupt and sometimes incompetent the system is; they can’t really blame MC and the Morozovs to want to take matters into their own hands.

And as for your last sentence about Ash… 🥺 They’ll gladly walk with MC down a darker path. They actually feel they are already walking down that path a long time ago, especially since they accepted working as the Family’s enforcer… 😥

[xoxosimp]

Element of Surprise

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Synopsis: After everything that went wrong today, there is no way Bucky is proposing…. Right?

Warnings: fluff, feels, reader is implied to have curly hair, soft bucky is a warning, no description of body parts but reader is called beautiful, and referred to as a wife

A/N: this is part two of this fic. Beta read by @h4miltonsbabe , but all mistakes are my own. 

~~~~~~~~~

It was always interesting seeing Bucky mad. He never really showed anger towards you, not you two didn't go without any fights, but he always kept his composure . Bucky rarely raised his voice at you, not that you've haven’t overheard him yelling at his “business associates” over the phone. He never raised a hand to you, even though he’s come home to you with bruised knuckles. 

But this particular mad: his jaw was clenched, the hand that rested on his thigh held the fabric of the couch in his fist .Usually when you’re cuddling up to him, all the tension in his body would evaporate. Not this time. 

Your day with Bucky wasn’t great.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong today, went wrong. Bucky’s been planning your anniversary for months. All he needed from you was to show up and look beautiful, as you always do. 

What he didn't need was for the weather channel to be wrong, ruining your blowout with the rain. Your curls reverted back to their natural state, running two hours of blow drying and fussing with your hair. Bucky thought you still looked beautiful. 

What he didn't need was for the florist to be out of your favorite flowers and your favorite bagel spot ( which is in another city) to be closed the day of your anniversary. And that set the theme  for the entire day.

What he did not need was your favorite restaurant to double-book your table on the rooftop. When the hostess told him they had accidentally double-booked, Bucky looked like he wanted to explode. Honestly, he did.

“I need to speak to your manager,” he huffed. The poor hostess scrambled away like a mouse, leaving your boyfriend fuming. 

Part of you thinks he’s going a little overboard, considering this was a mistake you could easily made yourself. But you know he wanted today to be perfect for you. That's how he wants everything to be for you.

“Bucky,” you grabbed his shoulder so he could face you, “ Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Light-”

“It was an innocent mistake, Jamie. Imagine if I was the hostess and some rich, billionaire loser had nothing better to do than yell at me?”, you stated, knowing you had him there.

Bucky cracked a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, “Are you calling me a loser, light?”

“You are a loser if you berate that poor hostess even more! Besides, if you take someone else’s table you could ruin their anniversary.”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “ What do you wanna do then, light?”, deep down he felt guilty, knowing he had unleashed his anger about not this particular mistake, but of all of today’s mishaps on the poor hostess. 

“Go somewhere else,” you smiled. “There are hundreds of restaurants in New York, I’m sure one of them has an open table.” 

After the manager profusely apologized for the error, Bucky slipped a hundred-dollar bill to the hostess and grumbled, “Don’t let it happen again.” 

Usually all it took was a snap of his fingers and his command and anything Bucky wanted was his (and by proxy, you). But even criminal kingpin’s are victims of circumstance, sometimes. 

You turned to look at Bucky and pinched his cheek. “ Is something wrong, Bucky?”

He shrugged, Bucky’s eyes not leaving the movie playing in front of him. He’s pouting.

“ I had a great day,” you pondered, “ I had a burger from Margarita’s and….” 

“It was supposed to be perfect!,” he said, slightly raising his voice. “ All of fucking days there are suddenly no more flowers or-”

“Jamie,” you touched his chest, snapping him out of his rage. “It’s not a big deal,” you giggled.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “You think this is funny, light?” 

“I know today didn’t go according to plan, but I’m just happy that we spent the day together. I mean, thanks to the heavens, my boss let me have a day off.”

If he hadn’t, Bucky would have ‘suggested’ to him to let you have the day off. .

“Even though I didn't get any flowers, any bagels, or dinner on a rooftop, I think I’d rather have none of that than my hair getting ruined. It took me two hours to blow dry my hair!”

Bucky let out a chuckle. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” he reiterated somberly. 

“It was perfect.” You know Bucky would move mountains to make you happy. Today proved that very fact. “ But I got to spend the day with you. How can I be sad about that?”

Damn, could you be any more perfect? Everything went to shit, yet you still look at him like he handed you the moon on a silver platter.

“I’m gonna’ get water,” you stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

“It’s actually kinda funny how everything went south today,” you shouted, grabbing a bottle of water from the shelf. 

“How’s that, light?”

“Because I thought you were going to propose.” Bucky stayed quiet. 

“I mean, hello, you told me to do my hair, do my nails, you told me to dress up really nice,” you rambled, “when you tell someone to get all dolled up and you have an extravagant day planned, it’s a classic sign that you’re proposing.”

You plopped next to Bucky, “ Which means you don't have the element of s-” You looked at him, holding a ring box with a beautiful princess cut diamond with a solitaire gold band in the middle. Were your hands sweaty or was that the condensation from the water bottle? 

Bucky adjusted himself so he can face you with a soft smile on his lips. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. “ I can’t imagine waking up everyday and not having you by my side. You’re the light of my life. You make every one of my dark days better with your presence. I want to be there with you when you have your good, bad, and dark days.”

Bucky thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. If it did, he would hand it to you. “Will you marry me?”

Tears were flowing down your face like a waterfall. You wanted to break out into song and dance, jump off of a building without any fear, you wanted this. You wanted him.

You nodded, swiping your tears, “ Yes! I’ll marry you!”  You smashed your lips on top of his, as if not another moment could be wasted. Bucky kissed you back with just as much vigor, but pulled away. “ Let me put the ring on you, Light!” he exclaimed.

He took the ring out of the box and slid it onto your ring finger. It was a perfect fit. “ I can’t wait to marry you, Jamie.”

“ I can’t wait till you’re my wife, light.” 

[daenysx]

Hi, how are you? Is there anything you can do 21:49 X modern aemond?

09.49 PM | AEMOND TARGARYEN

"lean back." aemond instructs. it's a late night and you just got home. the rain had you soaked up to your bones, you couldn't stop shaking even when the warmth of his apartment surrounded you. as a good solution, aemond has you in the tub filled with hot water and he washes your hair.

"is it too hot?" he asks, checking the water for the seventh time in the past a few minutes.

"i still feel like i'm freezing." you say. "it's not too hot."

he feels a guilty wave hitting his chest. he should've picked you up from work, you're not usually this late and you told him you will be just fine. he had to attend to an online meeting, so you didn't want to keep him away from his work. he's never gonna be convinced enough to leave you alone in rain again, you know for sure.

he uses your shampoo, it makes your hair slide nicely between his fingers, and it smells so much like you. this is his personal heaven. he massages your scalp, you tilt your head back. the tension disappears in bubbly water. you pull your knees to yourself as you relax under his hands.

he kisses your shoulder. he can't really help himself when you smell so delicious, your skin is softened by the water and your poor muscles are finally free of the stress of the day. aemond kisses another free spot soundly, right where the water hits on your collarbone, the clean skin looking so appealing.

he rubs your shoulders until you go lax in the tub. it's already your favorite way to spend a december evening. he washes your hair until he's sure there's no shampoo left in your scalp. you look at him through half closed, admiring eyes. he has this way of taking care in his own style, you always love seeing this side of him.

"are you hungry?" he asks, slowly. he can make something really quick if you want, it's getting late, but you shouldn't sleep if you're starving.

"no." you shake your head softly. "tea would be nice, though."

aemond leaves the bathroom for you to clean yourself up. he puts the kettle on for the tea. he's waiting for you when you walk into the room with a towel in your hand.

you are freshly dressed in comfy clothes with your tea cup in your hand. aemond dries up your hair, only enough to help you sleep without soaking wet hair.

you drink your tea in silence. he keeps taking care of you as if it's a way to make sure of your contentment for his own peace of mind.

dreamer girl sleepover ♡

[batfansa]

The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how fucked up the whole situation with Cobigail really was. And to me, personally, I feel she was done the most dirty through Inspekta's actions.

Like, not to diminish what he did to the other gods or anything, but... at most he broke Mitternacht's heart, almost broke Thespius' heart, tricked Click Clack and made him feel guilty for almost ruining their show and hurting Thespi, tricked Bauhauzzo and made him feel guilty and upset for hurting Huzzle, Huzzle Mug was more so pissed and felt betrayed, all while framing and imprisoning King after taking Megapon away.

And none of the followers were in any real danger aside for Mitternacht's crying possibly flooding the Grove. But nobody seemed too concerned with that, more concerned with her being upset and having to deal with the rain. All of which was still bad, obviously, but none of it felt too terrible.

Meanwhile, with Cobigail, he outright tarnished her reputation and painted her as this dangerous god willing to devour her own people. He took direct advantage of the fact that Milldread hasn't had a harvest in a while and decided to directly blame Cobi for it. Literally accused her of starving her own people, all while she's starving too!

This is made worse by the fact that this poor corn lady hadn't even been visited by anyone in twenty years and was starting to forget herself and her memories. She couldn't even speak up for herself 'cause everyone was afraid of her, and she was unable to even recall things so would have been unreliable anyways.

But the thing that really makes this whole situation worse, is that because of Inspekta's letter, someone decided that the best course of action to take was to slaughter an innocent person in front of the entire town, children included. And that this same person also so happened to be someone Cobigail knew back when she was human.

Someone she knew as a child. A child she taught and had fond memories of. She watched that little boy grow up and build that town and community. He's also quite possibly the only remaining person from her time as a human still alive. He hasn't visited her in forever either and feels real bad about it, knows she's not a blood cobbler gobbler. That's his old music teacher after all. He knows she'd never hurt nobody. She's the same teacher who loves his milldreadberry jam and loved being able to eat it during the Harvest.

And now, he's about to be sacrificed to that same teacher-turned-god, without even being able to give her a proper goodbye or apology for not seeing her for those twenty years. And she, in turn, can't do anything about it. Can't stop it. And is forced to watch as he's bashed and cut into mush. His blood splattered onto her alter, in her name.

And I also think people seem to forget that Cobigail was this close to being forced to drink her own ex-student's blood. Like, she would have been slurping up Bloom's blood through her roots unwillingly. Would have been forced to taste it and know exactly who it was she was eating.

And that little detail alone just fucks with me so much, because it is so dark and so sad at the same time.

But while all this was happening, while Saul was yelling about cutting up an innocent man, Inspekta just sat idly in his domain and did nothing. Didn't seem to realize the gravity of the situation (or just didn't care, too busy self-rotting) to tell Cappy or his other Bizzyboys to interfere. Was totally fine with somebody getting killed and his fellow god taking all the blame and being forced to watch.

Like, Cobigail is just the sweetest and is so forgiving, literally welcoming back 'Speks into the family despite everything. Literally had no hard feelings and made it clear she was there for him. So supportive too. Just wants to see everyone safe and happy. Spook some folks. Be silly.

Just, somebody get this sweet corn lady some jam and company.

[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ It's The Most Wonderful Time-out! ♡

A/N: is this late? 100% but it's time for some CHRISTMAS HYBRID TIMEEEEE!!! A HUGE thank you for the patience from my amazing sunshine anon for this commission <3 Personally I think the title is hilarious, do- do you get it- the most wonderful time of the year- plz laugh-

Warnings/content: 2nd person (you/yours), fem pup hybrid reader, puppy's first Christmas! Grumpy ol' man Vendetta Leon, Leon is referred to as daddy! Reader in time-out, visiting the hybrid park, angst and fluff, mentions and descriptions of gore, all gets resolved in the end!

Word count: 7,430 approx.

┈•┈┈•┈୨୧┈•┈┈•┈

┈•┈┈•┈୨୧┈•┈┈•┈

December 23rd

Time out. Oof, those words. They were enough to take the swing right out of your tail. 

This definitely wasn’t your fault. On the scale of 1-10 you’re like, a -5 when it comes to being in trouble. Totally. It wasn’t your fault it had rained, or your fault you wanted to jump in the the new layer of snow and got all wet and muddy, the only part that might have potentially, potentially been on you was tracking said mud and sleet through the living room. The living room rug to be exact. The rather expensive, difficult to clean because daddy sometimes ‘truly can’t be fu- bothered’ rug. That was the one rule; he could deal with mess on the floorboards, the tiles, but not the carpet. The stains were just too hard to get out.

Leon could handle dirt and grime absolutely, he’d take it over guts and gore any day of the week, public holidays and Christmas included. But coming home from work after a long day, hands stinking of gunpowder and grease, only to find muddy streaks and pawprints all over the rug was his last straw. The coffee machine in the office had been broken, his magazine clip had taken three different attempts to click into place despite the million times he’d done it before, and the armoury’s practice range had been down for maintenance. This was just the gasoline flavoured icing on his flambe flaming shit excuse for cake. 

Woosh. Fire. 

So, there you were. Plopped back into your pen, favourite squeaky toy just out of reach sat beside Leon’s chair as he scrolled through whatever’s on his phone. Teddy was right there, all worn out fluff and stringy neck ribbon, you were being taunted! This was torture, punishment of 

the worst degree. The only thing that would make it even more awful was going to bed without a kiss goodnight. But even Leon wasn’t that cruel.

Don’t get it twisted, he was feeling guilty about this too. The face you made when he walked through the door told him plenty. Big, round eyes, head bowed and tail anxiously thumping. You knew you’d gotten carried away. But you also knew better. And it’d been so long since he actually disciplined you. This was long overdue, half chewed toys left sopping wet in the bath after tub time, weeks of chased squirrels and rabbits, staying up way past your set bedtime. This was what really sealed the deal though. So, you do the time, you do the crime.

Even now he could feel your eyes boring into the back of his head, like two teary, glossy lasers set to melt his old hardened heart. Every half-hearted thump of your fluffy tail, every scuttle of your nails against the floorboards as you got comfortable, every tiny whimper you seemed hesitant to let out. Not to mention your poor attempts at being ‘completely and totally cool’ with your timeout since he often caught you staring up at him through the bars, eyes following each swipe of his fingers over his phone screen. And when he craned his neck to check on you, you were swiftly looking in the opposite direction, swearing you weren’t just tracking each of his movements. How couldn’t you though? You were obsessed with your owner, Leon was your daddy at the end of the day no matter how many play pens or crates he had to put you in so you’d behave.

 His poor princess. You were killing him, really. He’d survived well over 15 years of bioterrorism just to die at the hands of his pup-hybrid’s big wet pathetic gaze. Could flood a village with the amount of tears you shed a week, but he loves you and that tender heart of yours.

The real question was how much longer could either of you take? Leon knew it was a ‘you do the crime, you do the time’ type of deal, but was this truly teaching you anything other than how to master your pouty bottom lip? You’re his favourite fluffball, fuzzed up and huffy, chuffing and rolling over onto your back like you’re ready to play dead if it gets you out. 

And honestly? He was caving. He was only a man after all.

You’d softened him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Three years ago he’d have scoffed at the thought of even owning a hybrid, let alone being this attached. But now you were glued to his side. Now he just felt like an old man, worn and tired, your sunshiney attitude and warmth had thawed through him like no heater had. He’d been frostbitten before meeting you, whether he’d known it or not.

He couldn’t bear it. Yeah, time was up.

So his heavy footsteps muffled through socks padded across the floorboards to you, although you tried to act like you didn’t care (and failed miserably). It was pretty obvious how much this mattered to you, because your tail was whipping something fierce, so hard it had your hips wiggling. 

“C’mon, darlin’. Think you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Those big eyes pierced his very being and soul as you gazed up at him from behind your lashes, ears all floppy and face streaked with past tear tracks. God, you’d been crying over this too? Might as well just rip his heart from his chest and stomp on it. 

Even as he turned around and sat back down on the couch, looking over to you expectantly, you seemed to hesitate at first. Glancing at the spot where the rug had once sat in the centre of the living room, right in front of the coffee table, with guilty furrowed brows. Then it was back to looking at Leon, back to melting him with those heartbreaking watery eyes.

“Oh, my sweet puppy.” He couldn’t help but croon as you made guilty little steps over to him, every tap of your feet filled with shame, tail swaying with embarrassment. You were a walking heap of emotions, and he was ready to scoop you up and put you back together. “Here she comes, there we go. Tough day for our girl.”

You’d missed it, oh how you’d missed it. At your heart you truly were just a puppy, in need of the loving praise and sweet words that only he could provide. You weren’t the mushiest pup in the litter, but there was nothing like a good hug from your daddy. That much was clear from the way you melted into Leon’s body as soon as you were sat in his lap, your tail thumping delightfully against his knees while you burrowed into him. Paws kneading his shirt so you nestled into him just right.

“I know it was rough, honey. M’ sorry. But sometimes daddy has to discipline you, y’know?” the thick pad of his thumb encased your chin just enough to tilt your gaze upwards, his hand sliding over the curve of your face so he could wipe your tears away. “And it hurt, didn’t it?” “Yeah..” “So next time you think about stepping on the rug with muddy feet, you’ll remember how much we both hated this, and you won’t do it, isn’t that right?” “,,Yeah.”

“That’s right, baby. My poor girl.” That last statement came out as a small sigh, rubbing the soft fuzz of your floppy ears tenderly between his fingers. Even now as he gave you a talking down your tail never stopped thumping against his leg. 

No matter what, you loved him. That must’ve been why they called it puppy love. And it made his heart ache something fierce. You were too good.

Leon felt like the worst daddy in the world sometimes, he wasn’t gonna even try to lie about that. Sometimes he scratched behind your ears too hard, or you didn’t understand one of his jokes and ended up getting pouty and upset, sometimes he didn’t throw the ball right or pick out the right snacks. But all of that was nothing compared to the biggest issue.

His intoxicated escapades were at the very top of that list. 

Raids of the fridge and mumbling to himself, slumping his jacket off only to pass out on the edge of his bed. Leon knew you didn’t like when he got drunk, it was probably what hurt him the most about all of it. Not the gunshots echoing through his skull when his shot glass hit the table, or the recoil of a pistol wracking his shoulder when he ran into a wall too hard. 

No, it was the look on your face.

How you seemed to curl yourself back into your pen, watching with a lowered head and a hesitant gaze, tail somewhat tucked. The foggy memory of the face you pulled when he was too rough petting you or spoke too loud while sloshed. That’s what ached, what truly stung like a bitch. 

He was supposed to be the one protecting you, caring for you, and because of his own problems now you’d seen a side of him he never wanted you to. He’d made your hands awaken to the crack of eggshells beneath them when you stepped towards him, you were familiar with the shell’s powdering like that of bullet sulfur, and inner yolk gold as the streaks in his hair back then. Knew of the blood that sometimes hung in the middle of it all, and in the worst scenario the curling of bones left over. 

But still at the end of the night, drifting between a muddled haze of asleep and awake, he’d hear you make your way slowly towards his bed, the mattress dipping when you climbed up and curled up at the bottom of the duvet. Because, despite it all, you wanted to be close to him.

 Because, despite it all, he was your person. So he dumped what he could of the remaining bottles, stashed a few shitty cans for safe keeping in case things got too hard, and stopped being a regular at Jerry’s bar. 

He was doing it for you, maybe only for you.

Now he had you sat in his lap, buried in his shoulder and curling in as small as possible. Trying to become one with the skin of his arms and fabric of his shirt. You wanted to crawl up under his jacket and be carried as one with Leon, you’d do it if you could. 

He had to do something.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” Oh, that voice. Despite the icy weather outside, despite the cold that hung in his chest from time to time, his tone always tried to be warm with you. Soft. like those mutts learning to gentle their snarls and unclench their teeth, to stop growling. He was so used to the sneering, the sarcasm, snapping when someone got too close or said the wrong thing to him. But you were so fluffy, so fuzzy to the world, so unaware and loving. So he had to wear a muzzle, and he learned how to adjust.

Why? Because he couldn’t be a violent dog if he had his very own puppy. “I dunno..”

A lopsided smile spread across his cheeks at the look on your face, chin tilted and tail squirming as you look to him. There’s still the matter of that guilt still hanging in your face, stray strands like an unruly mop of hair.

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna squeeze ya.” While you were still processing Leon’s comforting words and the lull of his voice, he was quick to gather you in his arms and press you tight to his chest. Immediately you were bathed in the scent of his shirt, the natural smell and comfort of his body. A warm blanket of safety had been draped over your blankets in the form of his presence. He squeezed your body nice and close until you squeaked out a yapped laugh, the fluff of your ear squished against his stubbled cheek.

“Oooo, good squeeze. Get all those nasty feelings outta you.”

“Daddyyyy, you’re smooshing me!” These were the moments he really cherished, ones where your tail swung and you squirmed in his arms with that smile of yours.

“Awww, well that’s how you know that it’s a real good squeeze,” His voice waved every time he swayed you slightly from side to side, bringing bubbly giggles from your throat that drifted up into the air and popped right at his heart. “It’s like juicin’ an orange, gotta shake and twist you till you’re all better.” “I don’t wanna be juice!” You howled out playfully, throwing your head back like the dramatic little thing that you were.

“Oh you don’t huh? Then you gotta keep smiling for me baby, it's just that simple.” He pushed his cheek up against your own. God, how he loved that smile, the sound of your tail thumping across the fluff of the sleek couch. There you sat, cute as a button, curled up atop his legs and snuggled in close like the sweetest, softest stuffed animal. “Tell you what, we get you one last snack, and then we’ll tuck you in, and tomorrow we’ll go into town. Catch everything before it all closes up.” 

You were already half asleep in his arms by the time he’d finished talking.

December 24th

Planning the day out was the easy part, executing it was hard. Not only because Christmas was right around the corner which came with its own chaos, but because you were- well, you. Overly loving, over committed, overly loyal and lovely you. Leon swore you must’ve been the cutest looking leech or tick in a past life.

You insisted on putting together an outfit that yes consisted of your favourite bows and daddy’s most comfiest shirt that smelled like him. But even his ‘I’ve worn the same blue shirt for 3 years’ ass could tell when things didn’t coordinate together. So he did the gentlemanly and not-wanting-you-to-look-like-a-disaster-oustide-ly thing and helped you into some cute fleecy stockings, complete with a soft sweater and your favourite skirt. Gloves of some sort were a must, you had a thing for pawing at whatever you could get your hands on no matter how cold it was, and you were in your fuzziest boots. Adorable. Like a Christmasy puffball, a fluffy ornament. All you needed was a pair of angel wings and a halo and you’d be ready for the top of the tree. 

“Look at her, look at that posture and stance. Look at that trot. That’s a well trained leash dog right there.” A smirk tugged at Leon’s lips as he watched you pad in step with him, the lacy trim of your skirt swaying whenever your foot met the sidewalk. This was the very same puppy who sat staring at him from her crate with the most pitiful eyes yesterday, rolling over onto your back like you might die from lack of attention. And now you were practically skipping, a bounce to your tail with every step.

You were lucky enough to live in a small enough part of the city. Not too urban, but definitely not rural. An outskirt area that was a nice walk away from the nearest hybrid park, long enough to get you warmed up for the real fun. And even after Leon had you off the leash you were staying in step with him, glued to his side with the sweetest smile on your face. In fact it took a little coaxing and the presence of some other pups for you to finally run around.

Leon knew you could be sociable when you truly wanted to be, but even for such a smiley little thing sometimes you simply preferred his company to anyone else’s. You could be skittish, a bit shy, and it truly threw him off guard when that part of you poked its head out from behind the warm rays of sunlight that radiated from your very being. It was adorable, really. Watching you curl into his leg with a slightly swishing tail of fluff, giving a small wave only to burrow into him. But today you were doing well, today you chose to shake out your jitters. And yes, he wouldn’t admit it, but he was proud of you.

No matter how many times Leon brought you out here, letting you experience the wonders of a normal domestic life, it never stopped being nothing short of magical to watch you shine. You had this magnetic aura that always seemed to follow you around, people were drawn to you and that sunbeam that clung to the smile on your face. The warmth that you spread to those around you. 

You truly were his sunshine.

“Leon?”

A voice he hadn’t heard in a few weeks thanks to his time off work caught his attention, and sure enough as he looked over his shoulder there stood Ingrid Hunnigan. Bundled up in a long overcoat with a recyclable cup in her hands, steam wafting from the lid in smooth swirls through the crisp cold air. Already her glasses seemed to be fogging up again, despite so clearly being cleaned only recently. Yeah, he didn’t realise how lucky he was to have decent vision despite all the bullshit he’d been through. Glasses on top of the trauma and broken bones might’ve done him in.

“Hunnigan? The hell are you doing out here?” It wasn’t defensive or aggressive, moreso confused. Intrigued, interested. It wasn’t often he actually saw her out and about. A little silly in all honesty for him to think that, Ingrid always had some sort of plans around Christmastime. Her holiday decorations, complete with lights and glowing reindeer atop a tiled roof, were nothing to scoff at.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the snow in person, I figured I’d go for a walk to get a feel for it.” She shrugged, hands tucked into her pockets. 

He was listening, or at least some part of him was. The other part was blurring through his peripheral vision to make out the blob of colour and wagging tail that was you balling up snow as you ducked behind a tree, playing with one of the other hybrids. If you asked anyone in his line of work, they’d say Leon is a hardass. He’s committed to his work and gets his job done, and he’s passionate about what he does whether that’s good for him or not. 

But with you? With you he was just a man. Just your owner, your person. And that was such a relief.

“How’s she doing?” Ingrid asks out of habit. Every woman in the office can’t help but ask Leon about his perfect princess. And of course he laughs, shaking his head.

“Spoiled as ever. Really enjoying my time off with her.” Much needed confirmation, he knows he’d never hear the end of it if he dared tell Hunnigan about the time out incident. Best to keep it lighthearted now. Even as her face seems to.. Falter. What was that about?

“Listen, about the Phillis report..”

And then that lightheartedness was gone. If it weren’t for the icy chill that surrounded him, Leon would’ve gone a new shade of pale in the cool winter light. 

It never used to bother him. It never phased him on the outside. But now? With you?

The Phillis report. A family with a hybrid that had been a target for a bioterrorism attack. 

A hybrid.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you smiling, the red tips of his ears pricking at your laughter, the soft crunch of snow beneath people’s feet feeling much louder now as they passed. Everyone’s footsteps were unique, every thud and crush that left a print. Evidence. Clues. Cases. Work.

A hybrid like you. Everything was muddling together into the nastiest shade of grey water freezing over into ice. He hated his job. If he could pull the pin on a grenade, jump on top of it and coat the walls of that godforsaken office in his blood and guts he would. Because that’s what they were asking from him. They were asking him to die for them. Jumping from subject to subject, he was playing jump rope and hopscotch with his morals and intrusive thoughts over one simple statement in the middle of the holidays. How the mighty so quickly fell beneath twinkling lights and atop brightly wrapped presents.

The pulse of his heart had managed to spike, thundering fast and heavy in his chest. Eyes half an inch wider, pupils shrunk.

It could’ve been you. It- “Please, don’t. I’m just- I’m trying to not think about all of that. Not with her here.” It came out a bit too rushed, like his body had forced each syllable from his lips to get a point across. A safety measure, a precaution for his well being.

Leon had already spent countless nights tossing and turning over the paranoia of you being caught in his work. Now it had gotten so bad that even the mention of a hybrid being involved in a case made him sick to his stomach.

Because what if that had been you?

His throat almost closed itself off to the world as he got his words out. Ingrid’s face was creased in worry at the state of him. How had one statement so quickly pulled him through a 180? “It’s our first Christmas together, I can’t ruin that. I can’t.” Swallowing felt like choking down gravel but he managed to nonetheless. 

Hunnigan’s gaze softened, because she knew exactly how much it would ruin a perfectly good day if she were to stretch this out. She knew you were bouncing around somewhere without even looking for you amidst the snow and differently shaped animal ears and noses. You were the centre of Leon’s world, even if he didn’t know it. But those around him, those like her and Claire and Rebecca, could see what a difference you’d made. “I get it. Just.. don’t worry about rushing it, okay? It can wait until next year.”

“Yeah.. Yeah, thanks.” Automated. Robotic. Leon felt like he was backseating his own life as he responded, hearing Hunnigan’s shoes click as she prepared to walk back to her apartment complex. The sympathy ebbing from her expression only made him feel more sick, and yes that would’ve made him feel bad if it weren’t for him being on the brink of what was most likely a panic attack.

“Merry Christmas, Leon. Take it easy.” He couldn’t get the words out, settling for a stiff nod. Work. Work, work, work. It followed him everywhere no matter how fucking hard he tried to escape it. Think of something else, he scolded himself through the deafening heartbeat in his ears. Anything else. Think of you.

Padding your way over the snow, he watched on in an attempt to calm himself down as you bounded around the park like a bunny. Maybe a fox, the type that burrowed deep under the flurries of fresh powder with yipping laughter. All he knew was you were enjoying yourself, and that was all that mattered. That was all he focused on as his breathing steadied. With a short, still somewhat breathless whistle, your ears stood on end. Immediately your head thwipped to him, and you were merely a blur of pink and white that came scampering towards him. Yeah, that got a snort. Good. He needed to laugh more.

“There’s my girl.”

And there you were indeed, practically barrelling into his leg so he let out a hoarse ‘oof’ at the impact. Complete with a whispered “Hi daddy,’ that somehow managed to calm his heart in ways no medication or therapy could. Maybe he could start you out on service hybrid training, get you certified. Nah, you were too cuddly for that. Plus the vest would have to be pink or you just might refuse to wear it. So for now, he figured he may as well treat you.

“How about some hot cocoa, hm? You were a good girl after all, took your punishment like a champ.” Lie. Big, fat lie. If the ladies at the office ever caught word of how Leon had put you in timeout he’d be getting the most gruelling of death glares. His grave would be trampled on as they sprinted their way over to comfort you. He couldn’t really blame them, though, how could you not run someone over to pet someone as precious as you. You, currently sticking your little tongue out to catch the delicate snowflakes floating down from the sky as you approached the cafe. That’s what he had to keep reminding himself of in this moment. He did all of this for you. Trying to drown out the sinking ache in his stomach as if he’d swallowed an anvil, that son of a bitch must’ve been hidden between the bubbles of his saliva, or maybe the frost that dripped from the roof. 

So yeah, he was using you as the most sweet looking distraction right now, watching your wide eyes take in the wood grain and sleek walls of the coffee shop tucked into a corner of the park. On your best behaviour as you both stood in line until you got to the register. The metal tang in the back of his throat definitely had nothing to do with the gut weight still lingering after talking to Ingrid. Nope. Must’ve been the cold.

“Yeah, can we grab one long black and one.. Hm.” For a moment Leon caught himself rethinking his decisions. Was it really the best idea to give you something that had ‘cocoa’ in the name? You guys had yet to test how you’d react to chocolate after all. Taking the time to test and breakdown what food and beverage you could eat or simply didn’t like was a meticulous process, but better safe than sorry. “Wait, that was on our testing list..”

“Daddy?” Sorry puppy, daddy’s too busy having a small crisis over whether or not you can actually drink what he was ordering for you.“Is it- It should be safe for you to have hot cocoa, right?” “Daddy.” This time it was flatter. Unimpressed.

“I mean you haven’t had a bad reaction to anything yet despite being part puppy but, it’s technically chocolate to some degree so-

“Daddy!”

The tugging at his wrist was enough to get his attention back on you, the draw of your big dewy eyes and scrunched nose luring him in like a fish to bait.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” “Turn brain switch off.” 

Sometimes he thought you were pretending to be as curious and innocent as you are, because you so easily sensed when he was anxious or worried. Like an instinct. Sure, he loved you to bits, but you weren’t the brightest bulb in the- light store? Batch? He’d come up with a better analogy later. Either way, the point stood. And yet you always did that little head tilt when something seemed off. That bulb flickering to life.

“Right, puppy. Daddy’s turning the overthinking switch off.” Leon reassured as best as he could. And it seemed to satisfy. “Good daddy.”

He couldn’t help but snort again at that. “Thanks, baby.” Being praised for his minute efforts in managing his thoughts by his very own puppy hybrid. By the time you hit the register he was still smiling despite the storm in his head. “One long black and a hot cocoa, please.” 

But oh, how quickly it faded into thunder clouds. Even as he gave the barista his name for the order and walked over to wait for your drinks, it lurked over him. A sickening thickness in his throat, like tar tobacco and nicotine had clogged his windpipe. He was on auto pilot when he collected the recyclable cups and placed one of them into your eager hands, not recognising his own voice as he warned you about it being hot.

Leon was stuck between reality and dissociation, his feet leading both of you on the path back home that you’d taken enough times to have memorised. And even as you blew on the surface of your cocoa through the spout of the cup’s lid, you could see it in his eyes. That distant look. Deflated, the same as when you chewed on your favourite squeaky toy too hard and it popped.

“Daddy? You’re all droopy.”

Your voice was high and puzzled, all floppy ears and arched brows in confusion. Did he not like the park? You’d had a wonderful time making snow angels and bounding through the white powder like sweet icing sugar atop a winter cake. Maybe daddies just didn’t do parks well, like how you didn’t do the vet too well.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Daddy’s just thinking about things.” It had him staring out so far his eyes hit the end of the sidewalk, through the ice and snow to the cement. One hand held your leash, the other swiping past his lips. Hoping to wipe away the residue of his frown. 

It didn’t work. “But the switch..” Oh, don’t give him that tone. So heartbroken, so worried. It broke him.

“I know, I know the switch honey.” Already he was rubbing over the crease between his brows. This conversation couldn’t happen, not here and not now. “But sometimes- sometimes it’s not that simple, you know? Sometimes the switch doesn’t work.”

You supposed that made sense. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder. And pry, just a smidge. You could be a little pushy and shovey, whether you meant it or not. “Well, whatcha thinking about?”

What wasn’t he thinking about was the real question. It was all blurring together.

He simply shook his head. Made the bangs of his hair sway when he did. “Don’t worry about it, pup. It’s a conversation for another time.”

Well, that didn’t seem right to you. Usually Leon was so open with his feelings towards you, so you couldn’t help but nudge him. This time not with your nose or paw, but with your words. “But..”

And then his voice was lighter, as if he’d dropped the weight he’d been carrying over to one shoulder. Giving the illusion that things were better, that things were normal. But that shoulder still slumped. “Hey, weren’t you telling me something about Jill’s dog Carlos showing up on his own today? What was that about?” 

It still dragged.

At first you were very willing to tell him, the very concept of a hybrid on their own both bewildered, confused and excited you. Carlos was a big shaggy furred fella, he always played fair and shared the good treats Jill handed out.

But you knew this tactic. It was the same as when you’d ask him questions and instead of giving you an answer he’d pick up the nearest squeaky toy and suddenly you were playing fetch instead of talking. This time you were all the wiser.

“You’re trying to distract me! I don’t get it, when people say certain things you go stiff and wonky.” You couldn’t help but frown up at him. It didn’t feel fair, not knowing these things about him. A whole year together and yet sometimes he looked more like a stranger, dodging your questions and petting your ears so you’d move on. But you weren’t expecting him to furrow his eyebrows and sigh low in his chest, the way his forehead creased and nose flared. It was the same look you got before time out, only this one seemed more defensive than the last. 

“Not now, sweetheart. Please.” Leon’s tone was flat, no room for argument no matter how much your wriggled and squeezed your body between the cracks. Your tail’s wag deflated, slowing to nothing more than a slight sway. The snow felt a little colder after that.

December 30th

Christmas had been nothing short of a success in the Kennedy household, with Leon’s living room being covered in scattered wrapping paper and a whole new variety of toys in pastel colours. He was delighted. This may have been one of the few times he actually enjoyed a holiday rather than loathing it. Maybe it was because you were there, so he wasn’t spending it alone like he usually did. The way you’d spun in circles and yapped happily about it being Christmas morning.

It had been your first real Christmas ever. Your first Christmas not spent in a cage, where you got toys and ate warm meals with the man you loved, with Claire and Becca and Chris and Jill coming over for lunch under the fluorescent glow of the Christmas lights you’d insisted Leon put up. You’d sat by the tree unwrapping gifts with the fastest wagging tail Leon had ever seen, ears perked to attention and eyes wide and sparkling. He was glad, honoured really, to witness this moment of pure unbridled joy for you.

The two of you spent most if not all of Boxing Day lazing around the house in your pajamas, cuddling by the fireplace and bundling under blankets for more than a few naps. Lazy days, oh how you both loved them. Soon it was the 26th, then the 27th,so on and so on. 

Now, the christmas paper had been collected, the tree’s decorations were slowly taken down in day by day intervals, and you sat politely by the glass door to the backyard watching the snow. Leon figured if there was ever a time to truly explain to you the truth behind his career, it was likely now. A tough conversation to have, but one that needed to happen. He just couldn’t leave you in the dark like this, not any longer. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” “Hm?”

There it was. That innocent lilt, the curve of your neck as you craned to look at him. You were something too pure to be sitting on the floor of his home. You deserved mattress upon mattress like the princess and the pea, only he wouldn’t be an idiot like the ones in that book. Leon knew better than to leave under the bed unattended in case there were coyotes trying to nip at his sweet girl’s toes and tail.

Softening, that’s what he was doing. Cracking. This wasn’t going to end well and he knew it. “Y’know how daddy doesn’t like to talk about work?”

Uh oh, now you knew it was time for a serious talk. Not like when you dirtied the rug, this time you weren’t in trouble. Still you looked at him so gently, with such trust while that mountain of fluffy fur behind you swished. Because if it was serious, it was important. “Yeah.”

Leon patted the spot on the couch beside him, complete with a pretty pink bone print blanket for you to settle on, to which you trotted yourself over as dainty as could be. Hopping up next to him, a tail curled around your back. Getting yourself cozy under his arm with your head nestled right next to his chest. Listening to the steady thrum of his heart as his pulse picked up. Doing so much, yet so little, and it all comforted him.

 It was starting to sink in. He was telling you. He was opening the casket, dragging the corpse of his past through the dirt to pose for a real, living person. How was he supposed to break this to you? How did you even word his job without saying ‘I might die one day’?

“Well, that’s cause what I do is pretty dangerous, puppy. I don’t want to worry you with all the stuff I have to do.” The violence, the bloodshed, the screaming. Flashes of red that haunted his dreams, the ones you’d nudge at his face over until he’d wake up because you heard him muttering in his sleep.

“Why?” You were so oblivious to his little inner world, the one he made sure to hide from you. The one filled with guilt and shame. He wanted to keep it that way, but what choice did he have? How could he keep you safe if you had no idea what you were being kept safe from? You should be worried about what colour skirt to wear, or if your collar matches your outfit, not this bullshit. 

“Because it’s just better for you to sit and wait for me to get home at the end of the day, baby.” It was better for you to expect him home every day. 

It was better for both of you if you just always thought he was coming home.

 It made his heart break so hard his ribs snapped thinking about you sitting by the big bay window, tail flicking and throat weeping whimpers if he didn’t show up for a few days. Then weeks. Then eventually someone would have to take you in, pack up all your toys. They’d find the list he kept stashed on the top of the fridge just in case; instructing anyone who found you on just how you liked your food and which stories to whisper in your ear at night when the thunder got too loud. 

You’d never go willingly. Someone would have to leash you and tug you out the door to their car. You’d cry. You’d cry so hard your throat would die out hoarse. It would probably be Claire or Chris or Becca picking you up, he’d have to hope. The thought of some stranger from the DSO taking you from his home, your home, the home you shared together, had him swallowing down a lump. He knew you’d never recover from it. It would shatter you, after sitting in a kennel alone for so long and finally crawling out of your shell, just to lose the person you so clearly loved more than anyone else. Fuck, Leon could feel his eyes watering.

But he couldn’t do that to you. He just couldn’t. It would be the cruelest thing in the world for him to abandon you without any choice in the matter. If he were a stronger man he’d have retired by now. But he wasn’t stronger. He had no backbone when it came to his job, the government, the United States as a whole. Some fucking hero. He was more like a lapdog, breaking his neck for a board of people who didn’t give a shit about him. Taking the scraps he was offered.

“Daddy, you’re crying..” Your sad voice pulled him back into reality, where you were now taking those soft hands of yours to wipe away his tears. Wet streaks that lined the creases forming in his scarred over skin. He was getting too old for this. Too old to be bottling up these feelings for days on end. Wearing himself down for the sake of denying what he felt.

“Fuck, sorry sweetheart. It’s just.. It’s my job to keep you safe. But it’s also my job to keep everyone else safe, too. And your daddy’s been through everything, honey. Zombies, parasites, bioterrorism, war, the whole five yards. I’ve had so many people turn their backs on me or- or look to me for help for so long that it drives me crazy to even think of you worrying about me not coming home.”

How long had it been since he’d cried? Really cried? How much more could a man like Leon take? Sure he was strong, he had to be. Built up from broken beginnings on bloodied glass, shitty past relationships and world-ending catastrophes. But he was only human for Christ’s sake.

And maybe he was finally starting to sober up to that realization.

“I always think you’ll come home..”

Of course you did. Of course you, this sweet angel of a puppy girl, looked up at him with those watery eyes filled with confidence in such a statement. As if you loved him so much it almost poured from your lash line in heart shaped droplets. You had such hope despite where he’d adopted you from. Had he done that? It was odd to think about. How someone as shitty as him (in his perspective at least) had gotten you to blossom and bloom into the sweet thing you were today.

“Yeah, why’s that honey?”

“Cause you’re Leon, and Leon is the strongest person I know.”

The weight of your head now resting against his shoulder was like an anchor that stopped Leon from washing out on the beach of his despairs. He wasn’t left to drift off into oblivion, to drown in his sorrows and regrets. He had you. You had him. A hand came out to instinctively pet over the warm fuzz of your floppy ears, and he seeked out the comfort that came with your presence.

It was comforting, the quiet. Not tense or awkward. Like the waves of the ocean sloshing to a slow and serene sway after a tsunami or a tidal wave. To know you saw him as your hero, that you held him in such high regard. It made every grey hair and creased feature feel worth it. Everything he did, he did it for you. And for once it didn’t feel like a pressure, or a burden, it was a responsibility he was glad to shoulder. Like he were your knight in shining armour.

“Why’d you never tell me you went through all that stuff?” Even now as you spoke your voice was low and soft, sweet to his ears like a drizzling of warm honey right to his cochlea. Those homemade remedies for aches and pains.

Even now he found himself chuckling to get through this, an ache in his chest with each exhale. Someone had set a cinderblock on his chest, and you were mustering up all the strength in those little paws to ease it off. “And ruin what we’ve got going on right here? I wasn’t gonna risk that.”

Apparently that was the wrong answer, because now you were perked upright with the slightest of pouts perched atop your lips. Disagreement etched into your features. “S’ not ruined, dummy. It just means I get to say I love you a whole lot more.”

Now it was his turn to snort sincerely. Always so stubborn. Adorable, sweet, but stubborn. "Oh, is that so?”

“Mhm. So when things are yuck it’ll be easier to remember that I love you. Cause I’ll say it as many times as I gotta until you believe it.”

You ruined him, and not in a bad way. You took the world’s smallest pick to the world’s coldest iceberg and chipped back his layers sliver by sliver. Sculpting him back into what he once was before the world dumped cold water onto him and froze over the softness that lay within. 

Leon’s hand stroked aimlessly over the curve of your head, tracing over the edges of your hair gently. Even with the scrapes on his knuckles and bruises on his palms he always made sure to be soft with you. His voice, half cracked and brimming with affection, was quiet as he whispered back. “I love you too, puppy. You’re my best girl.”

Firewood crackled in a low, jagged white noise in the background, smoothing into a quiet simmer that cast a warm orange glow against the walls. Bathing the room in heat, one that you both let wrap around you like a safety blanket. You found haven in each other, because no matter what, you always came back to one another. Leon was your owner, after all. It was his job to ensure you had the best life, with all the comforts you could ask for and then some.

And he planned to do just that. Whether it meant dumping out all the alcohol in his house or not.

“So.. Do I get more presents?” It’s a teeny voice against his shirt that had him tilting his chin down to look at you.

“Well no puppy, the next holiday is New Years Eve. We don’t give presents then, only Christmas.” A pretty straight forward explanation, or at least that’s what it felt like to him.

“Why?” Another chirp.

His brow arched. “Cause Christmas is only once a year, sweetie.”

“Why?” And another. “Okay, we’re not starting this.”

God, just wait until you find out about birthdays. Then he’s done for.

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[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: It's not the first time Eddie has found his locker smeared but it's the first time someone has cleaned it for him.

Warnings: mention of dead animal

Freak.

It was written in large, red letters, it could be seen from across the hallway, and immediately attracted the attention of uninvolved students and teachers who didn't care if one of their students was being made fun of. It looked like they used that usual spray paint that took days to wear off, even though Eddie tried to clean it with everything he had.

He should have known something was wrong when the students started looking at him weirder than usual after he parked his van outside the school.

It wasn't the first time that Jason and his friends had left some nice compliment written, drawn or engraved with a pocketknife (which by the way was forbidden at school) or scissors, on Eddie's locker.

He was almost used to it, he didn't quite know how to feel about it.

Was he sad? Was he angry? Maybe he was just so fucking tired.

When he reached it he could feel the eyes of all the students in the hallway on him, as if they were expecting a sudden reaction from him, and he could smell the spray still fresh and slightly dripping, making the writing harder to read and more similar to blood.

At least there wasn't any dead animals inside the locker like last time. He had had to find a place in the woods behind the school to bury the poor little bird under the rain, he had come home a few hours late and his curly hair were completely soaked and stuck to his forehead and neck.

When his uncle asked what had happened Eddie simply said that the van had had some problems and didn't want to start.

"Freak" was the first word that caught the eye but he could also read "trailer trash" and "devil worshepper" with an upside-down pentacle drawn next to it.

Eddie almost laughed at the misspelling, opened his smeared locker, grabbed his chemistry textbook, and headed for the day's first boring class, walking past the group of jocks and cheerleaders who were staring at him. One of them whispered something in another's ear and they both laughed.

Eddie caught Jason's eye, who was looking at him innocently as if none of that was his fault.

"Worshepper is spelled with an i, asshole."

No one had time to argue.

He was already gone.

At the end of the day, after stopping to talk to Gareth for a few moments about a song they were working on, Eddie returned to his locker.

None of the teachers had said anything about the state of it, although most of them knew what had happened or were aware that it was often vandalized.

Not that Eddie needed anyone's help, but he found himself thinking that if it happened to anyone else, things would have been different and they would punish the guilty one.

But when it happened to him? The one who always got bad grades, the one who lived in a trailer and had his dad in prison? The one who was said to be a satanist and sacrificed goats in the woods on full moon nights? Nobody cared.

By all accounts, he'd probably done something to deserve it.

At that moment most of the students had already gone home and the few who were still in school were either in the gym, in the theater or chatting in the parking lot.

And that's why he didn't expect to find someone right in front of his locker.

His clean locker.

You had a concentrated expression painted on your face, in one hand you held a cloth that you were rubbing against its surface now without any paint stains and in the other a bottle that Eddie couldn't quite figure out what contained.

He slowly crept around the corner of the corridor, watching the last scene he ever expected to be in front of.

It was the first time anyone had done that for him.

"You know I heard you coming, right?" You said without looking up from the locker.

A faint tinge of red appeared on Eddie's cheeks as he came out.

"It's hard not to hear you with those." You pointed to the chains hanging from his belt before stepping back and admiring your work.

"Oh, right." Eddie muttered, still unsure of your intentions.

"I'm Y/N by the way." You introduced yourself.

He's never talked to you before but he's seen you around.

Over time he realized that you weren't part of a specific group: you chatted with Buckley during lunch, you used to hang out with Jonathan Byers before he moved and for some weird reason Dustin always said hi to you when he saw you in the corridor and you did the same.

Okay, you were probably not one of the most popular in school.

"Earth to Eddie!" You laughed shaking your hand in front of his face.

"Yeah, right. Sorry."

"I asked you what you think of it." You pointed to the locker and he walked over to it.

"I think it looks great. Why did you do it?"

"It looked like it needed a clean." You shrugged, as if you hadn't spent at least an hour cleaning a locker that wasn't even yours.

As if you weren't one of the few people to be nice to him, as if you hadn't helped him without wanting anything in return like hardly anyone had in his life.

"It did. Thank you."

You smiled and handed him the bottle you had used. "It's nail polish remover with acetone. There's not much of it anymore but…it can come in handy in situations like this."

"Thanks. Wait, why did you have this at school?"

"I used it to clean up a mess with some paint in the room where we create theater stuff."

"Oh, are you a theater kid?"

"Nah, I just make stuff they need. Guns out of plastic bottles, swords out of foil, the usual."

"Oh my god." Eddie muttered, in mixed realization and admiration.

"What?"

"I think you made Timotheus The Creator's sword."

You looked at him as confused as possible.

"Who?"

"During our last Dungeons & Dragons campaign we used a sword found in the theater. It had a golden handle and a shining blade and I couldn't resist. She was a masterpiece."

You chuckled. "Yeah, well I think I made it. Glad you guys liked it."

"Liked it? I'm basically talking to a celebrity!"

You laughed again, no one was really noticing how much you were both enjoying that silly conversation.

"You know, and i'm saying that in the best possible way, you are kind of a weirdo. Why didn't we talk earlier?" Only after he had said those words did Eddie realize that you might have been offended but when he heard the sound of your laughter again his heart started beating again.

He had just found you but never wanted to lose you.

"Probably because I spend every free moment in the theater laboratory. You could come by and say hi sometime, I think you'd like it there. There's a lot of cool stuff."

"Can I steal something for DnD?" he asked hopefully, a huge smile on his lips.

"Borrow." You corrected him.

"Deal."

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you realized it was later than you thought. "I'm sorry but I really gotta go now, my parents will kill me if I'm late again."

"Sure, yeah" He nodded, "see you tomorrow?"

You smiled one last time as you started walking towards the exit. "See you tomorrow."

He stared after you until he couldn't anymore then looked at his locker, running his ringed hand over its clean surface.

He sighed.

Fuck.

He was in love.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[laurfilijames]

All I Want...

Pairing: Will Miller x reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Angst. Swearing. PTSD. Panic attack. Mentions of an unhappy childhood, military service, personnel being KIA. Tom's death. Grief. People being unhappy at Christmas. (There's some fluff too, bear with me!)

Summary: Will tries to fight off a panic attack early on Christmas morning, his unenthusiastic feelings toward the holiday making him feel guilty on top of everything else on his mind, only to be reminded that it's okay to not feel festive and that he's not alone.

A/N: I'll be the first one to admit that Christmas isn't all it's cracked up to be sometimes. People often call me Scrooge, but I've learned over the years to prioritize my mental health around the holidays and take it all in stride. To those who struggle in any kind of way this time of year, I see you, and this is for you.

This fic follows some of my headcanons about the Miller brothers in that they didn't have a great upbringing, and that Will often suffers from poor sleep and panic attacks.

---

Scrooge. The Grinch.

These were some of the names bestowed upon Will over the years, his less than enthusiastic feelings toward Christmas noticed and pointed out as often as possible during the holiday season by those closest to him, mainly Benny.

It was innocent enough, his brother, Fish and Pope all aware and understanding to the reasons why Will wasn’t overly excited, but sometimes it got under his skin and the temptation to tell Ben to fuck off sat on the tip of his tongue on more than one occasion when he got going on a roll of teasing him.

He always tried his best to keep his opinions to himself, not caring to bring it up in order to avoid the shock and disbelief that someone could hate Christmas, having to stand and painfully listen to whoever was scolding his humbug ways try to convert him and preach all the reasons why it was so magical.

He had been this way for as long as he could remember, the earliest memories of an unhappy Christmas morning tucked away in the back of his mind until they inevitably were pushed back to the surface each time the radio stations turned their usual music to all the annoying holiday songs and people started asking the mundane “Are you ready for Christmas?” questions to everyone who never wanted to give an honest answer. He could always see the stress most people carried with them this time of year, the worry of spending money they didn’t have and not meeting expectations evident on their faces as they frantically rushed around to get all the things ticked off their lists to make the day ‘perfect’.

Perfect was never a word Will would use to describe any of his past Christmases, the thought making him scoff and shake his head as he looked up at the night sky, counting the stars as a way to try to clear the persistent thoughts that had gotten him out of bed at 3:26 AM.

Vivid images that he had tried to blur and forget always reappeared no matter how hard he tried; his parents yelling from the kitchen loud enough he had to peel Benny and his one toy from under the tree to go outside to get away from the anger, not to mention the countless Christmas mornings he woke up to gunfire or spent the day trudging through the rain and freezing cold, or had sweat clinging to his back in the heat of the desert, more often than not spending December 25th on tour and deployed somewhere that mimicked hell.

Will couldn’t help but feel guilt more than usual on days like today, thinking of all the families whose sons or daughters, husbands or wives and everything between never made it home to celebrate another Christmas with them, that shame becoming part of the reason he tended to make sure he was always off serving somewhere, not feeling like he deserved to be in the warm comforts of home with those he loved.

Add that to the long list of things his ex resented him for, one more thing he could never do right, and something else she refused to make an effort to understand despite him trying to explain it.

Today it seemed to all weigh more than it normally did.

Tom’s death was still fresh in all their minds, this being the first Christmas Molly and the girls would have to spend without him, and the thought of their irreparable grief made Will want to crumble.

He exhaled a long breath, blowing it out shakily from his lungs, his chest feeling tight as his heart pounded inside it like a caged animal.

He inhaled as slowly as he could manage, one, two, three, counting in his head to gain control over the quickly rising panic.

Exhaling out, one, two, three, his heart still hammering, his pulse furiously thrumming in his neck.

His hand shook as he lifted it up to rub the back of his neck roughly, feeling sweat accumulating on it and dampening his palm that was equally wet.

The steadiness of the number of seconds between each laboured breath was doing little to keep him calm, the thoughts of his conversation with you a couple of days prior echoing in his mind to drown them out along with the ringing in his ears.

You swore up and down a hundred times that you were fine with not celebrating, assuring him that you were relieved to not make a fuss over Christmas and reminding him that your own views of it were also plagued by unhappy memories; that being alone with him was more a gift than anything wrapped in paper and bows under a tree. He knew you meant it when you said you wanted to hide away with him until the madness of it all was over, but now his mind was playing tricks on him, making him doubt your words and sending him into a tailspin over projecting his attitude toward it on you.

But he knew you wouldn’t lie to him.

He kept on that train of thought as his fingers wrapped around the railing on the deck, gripping into the wood as hard as he could, feeling the splintered pieces from years of weather digging into his skin. Drawing in another short breath and gasping slightly, he did his best to remember why he came outside in the first place, seeking fresh air that ironically had become suffocating.

One, two, three, he repeated to himself again, closing his eyes to better focus on slowing his breathing down.

A minute and thirty-seven seconds had passed with him concentrating, able to let the consistency of the numbers aid him as he continued to count, the feel of your warm hands slipping up his cold, clammy back allowing him to finally release the tension he had been holding in his shoulders.

“I’m okay,” he muttered, his voice lacking the conviction he hoped it had.

“I never thought you weren’t,” you whispered, your hands still pressing reassuringly on his torso as you moved beside him, your lips meeting his shoulder to kiss it twice.

Will smiled, grateful for your belief in him, never making him feel weak or like he needed saving, simply there with a love and empathy he had sought his whole life.

He released his grip on the rail and glanced over at you, shooting you a weak smile gathering you in his arms for a hug, kissing the top of your head appreciatively while you continued to rub your hands in a calming, languid pattern across his skin.

“I love you,” he murmured, feeling his heart beat in a stronger rhythm different from how it had moments ago.

“I love you too, Will,” your lips moved against his chest, your arms squeezing him a little tighter as you pressed yourself closer to his body.

“You’re sure you’re happy to spend Christmas this way?”

“More than happy,” you reiterated, pulling your face away to look at him, his blue eyes like flames against the deep navy of the night sky.

“Okay,” he sighed, leaning in to kiss you.

“You know there’s that song, ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’,” you smiled, watching his expression change, his grin stretching out to form the creases in his cheeks as he shook his head.

“Please don’t sing it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Will chuckled and kissed you again, slowly, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a gentle demand.

“Let’s get back to bed,” he said quietly, nodding toward the house after he broke the seal of your lips.

As he led you into the house, your fingers laced with his, he thought how maybe he could find ways to celebrate Christmas with you that wouldn’t make it all seem so terrible, the idea of creating your own traditions somewhat exciting to him.

He smiled at you over his shoulder, stopping in the middle of the hallway where he clasped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, his body pressing into yours with a need to show you just how much you meant to him, knowing that as long as he was with you he could face anything.

---

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated and if you'd like to be added or removed from my taglist please let me know! 💗

Taglist: @sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989

[asvtrials]

LUNCH [one.]

Navarro x fem!reader

minors dni!

summary: After a rather nasty breakup with Bjorn you try to avoid the group as much as possible and you're doing a good job until you find yourself in Corbelan IV with your best friend. warnings: angst, not proofread, maybe ooc, swearing, part two will contain smut. a/n: This fic is very much inspired by LUNCH by Billie Eilish specifically the following lyrics "I've said it all before, but I'll say it again, I'm interested in more than just bein' your friend. I don't wanna break it, just want it to bend. Do you know how to bend?" sooo... w/c: 2360

You tried to ignore the continuous vibrations of your wristwatch, continuing to move away from the truck, the rough handles of the box scraping your palms. You let the box hit the ground with a loud thud, the annoying buzzing sound made you groan 

It's been almost a month since you and Bjorn broke up but the hurtful words that were thrown your way still stung you. Who are you kidding, you said some nasty bullshit too.

It was always like that with Bjorn. Some laughs and good sex that left you satisfied to ignore the dysfunction in your relationship, if you can even call it.

He never called it that, never even called you his girlfriend, never asked you out, never told you how much he liked you—unless it was after sex and he was all fucked out. It was always, his ‘friend’, his ‘buddy’, his ‘something’ but you never felt like he was yours. 

So all that bubbling anger and insecurity led to a fight more intense than any you’ve ever had and you stormed out.

You felt guilty every time you came up with an excuse to avoid a meeting until you simply didn't answer at all.

You did this, you distanced yourself from them and you had no right to be hurt but you couldn't help the sting that followed every time you saw the name of the caller

It was always Kay, sometimes Rain and Tyler, and you loved them all. But never the person you considered your closest friend.

Being in such a fickle situation, you often found yourself thinking who would stick around. They were all family and you were just an outsider, even if they never made you feel like it, you knew it was true.

But there was always someone that made you feel like something more. You didn’t know how, or why but she did. Navarro.

You thought you built something, a friendship and you weren't just her brother's boyfriend. But you must've been mistaken, because there wasn't a time you saw her name pop on the wristwatch.

But that didn't matter anymore.

The day was unbearable. Everything was annoying you and you had to restrain yourself from throwing the drill to the ground and walking away several times throughout the day.

When it was finally time to clock out after eleven exhausting hours you rushed to the locker room and got your things.

Normally you'd just walk right out, the supervisors ignoring you like they ignored the rest of the workers, but this time one of them stopped you before you could reach the door.

“Worker #233 your shift isn't finished.”

“What?” You frowned. “Eleven hours, I just clocked out” You argued, turning to face the guard.

“You owe the company eight more hours according to our records.” He spoke, voice monotone.

“What are you talking about? I didn't miss any days and I wasn't late a single day.” You were starting to lose your patience and it was clear in your voice. You just wanted to go home and crash on your bed.

“You have registered to fill in for another worker, yet you never fulfilled the quota. Worker #5583.” He informed you. You stared at him, clearly confused. “Marie Rain Carradine if the files are correct.” He corrected in irritation.

Fuck. 

This one time Rain fell down hard, hitting her knee in the process. The poor girl couldn't even walk straight, so you offered to take her place, take her home, and fill in the hours when you were needed. Did it have to be today?

“You are needed in the spacecraft maintenance department.” He told you, clearly as tired of this conversation as you were. 

“Seriously? Maintenance?” You raised a brow.

“You want to go back to the mines” He countered, quickly silencing you.

You returned to the clock-in room with a loud sigh, not really caring to hide your exhaustion as you approached the counter. You stared at the lady behind the glass, eyes tired and uninterested. 

The lady didn't seem to care as she took your worker's card and scanned it.

“Y/n L/n, right? You are assigned to perform a maintenance assessment on ‘Corbelan IV’.” She announced and gave you back your card, expecting you to get the tools and get out but you stared at the woman with wide eyes. She stared back at you, her gaze confused.

“Corbelan IV?” You asked, hoping you misheard.

“Yes, there's a shortage in staff” She answered unenthusiastically.

No, fuck no.

“Isn't, um, isn't there another ship?” You hesitantly asked. 

Panic started to sip through you while the woman lowered her glasses, staring at you disapprovingly.

“Like— isn't there another ship? Or something—anything, really.” You rambled the more the woman stared.

She raised a brow before pushing the card closer to you and turning back to her computer screen, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Fucking cunt” you mumbled under your breath as you grabbed the card.

You grabbed the tools from the shelf and walked out, the cold air hitting your face again. But you refused to move any faster, trying to stall as much as you could.

You spend too much time on this ship to know that it wasn't just any mining hauler, it was Navarro's baby. And most of the time the entire crew was there “cleaning and checking” it. In reality, you were there to drink and laugh and maybe actually do your work.

When you finally arrived you stared at the enormous craft for a while. This is going to be awkward…

You walked around until you finally found the ladder and pushed yourself up. Once you entered the ship you didn't hear any chatter from inside, even though the gate was wide open.

You just hoped Bjorn wasn’t here and by the quietness that filled this place, you guessed he wasn’t.

You walked deeper into the ship finding the second ladder to the cockpit and climbing, your boots making noise in contrast to how quiet the entire ship was.

“Kay, that you?” 

Navarro. You should have guessed.

You stopped in your tracks, hearing her deep voice after so long sent shivers down your spine.

“Uh, no. Not Kay.” You spoke after a beat.

The silence around you shifted into an uncomfortable silence so intense that you considered turning around and walking away.

But the sound of the small hum forced you to stay put.

No turning back now.

You continued climbing, finally seeing the yellow light of Navarro’s desk light. You forced yourself to lift your eyes once you stepped into the cockpit. 

There she was, awkwardly standing with her arms folded as she leaned against the back of her pilot seat watching you.

“Hey.” She spoke softly. She really tried to seem relaxed but her hand slowly lifted to scratch the back of her neck.

Such a funny habit of hers. You remember trying to keep yourself from giggling every time you saw her in awkward situations. She looked so unbothered until you noticed how she nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

It wasn't funny now.

Your eyes avoided her as you spoke “Hey.”

You remembered the toolbox in your hand and lifted it a bit to hopefully divert her attention to the item.

Her eyes took some time to leave your face, slowly falling to the toolbox. A small frown appeared on her face but it was quickly pushed away. “Oh yeah.” she mumbled.

You tensed as she approached you, leaning closer to you to take the object from your hand. You tried to ignore how close her cheek was to yours or how cold her fingers were when they gently wrapped around yours—well not around your hand but the handle of the toolbox.

Her fingers were always cold, no matter how warm the place was. She would always stand behind you, her tall physique made it very easy for her to rest her chin on your head or shoulder as her hands slid inside your pockets, squeezing your warm hands in hers and laughing when you yelped at the contact.

This time her fingers quickly moved away, taking the box with her. Her boots thud loudly against the metal floor as she walked to her pilot chair and placed the object on the cushiony seat.

The uncomfortable silence made you feel compelled to start the conversation.

“How have you been?” You asked quietly, awkwardly moving closer to her.

“Fine. You?” She answered, her loud rummaging through the toolbox echoing across the empty ship.

You weren't sure If you wanted to be truthful—if she wanted to hear about her brother's ex talking shit about him.

But she was your friend, right? You weren't just Bjorn's girlfriend all this time, right?

You ignored your consciousness screaming for you to keep your mouth shut.

You embarrassingly noticed the sweat that covered your hands and quickly wiped them on your shirt suddenly glad that the girl was turned the other way.

“Not that good, if I'm being honest” You replied with a small sigh.

The girl froze for a moment, not sure how to respond to your honesty. Eventually, she turned to face you with a hesitant smile appearing on her face momentarily “I get it. Breakups are tough.” 

“It wasn't a breakup” You argued, you couldn't contain the bitterness in your tone. “ We were never together to begin with.” 

You wanted to stop—really, but you just couldn't. With a groan, you slumped on a nearby seat.

“I mean don't get me wrong, being in a relationship with someone like Bjorn sounds like an actual nightmare—No offense…” You quickly added, sending Navarro an apologetic look.

“None taken,” Navarro said with a chuckle slowly approaching you. “Trust me, shit-talking Bjorn isn't new to me”

“Yeah.” You laughed, throat closing up a bit when she sat on the seat next to you.

“So I'm all ears. Why do you hate Bjorn—sorry, that asshole” She said with a mischievous smile.

But suddenly you didn't want to talk about Bjorn.

You couldn't.

Having her next to you after so long felt too good. So good that you couldn't stop your lips from curling into a smile.

“I don't want to talk about him.” He murmured, eyes meeting her amused ones.

“I missed talking to you, Varro.” You whispered, bumping her shoulder with your own softly. There was a certain melancholy in your tone, a small question lingering in your mind.

“Why didn't you call?”

You watched the playfulness in her eyes slowly turn into something else, something like guilt.

Maybe she was thinking the same thing, because she wasn't answering, just searching in your eyes for something before suddenly standing

Your eyes followed her with a frown as she walked to the pilot seat sitting down. Everything about her changed. Her friendly demeanor flipped to a much more distant one.

You hesitantly stood up. “I know I didn't answer and all but I didn't know what to say, i mean you guys are Bjorn's family” You tried to defend yourself while staring at the back of her head.

But the only thing Navarro offered you was a slow nod.

“I would've answered to you.” You confessed, blood rushing to your cheeks.

It was true. If Navarro called you you'd pick up the call without a second thought, the idea of hearing her voice enough to make you push past initial awkwardness.

She paid no mind to you, didn't even spare you a glance yet you were standing here like an idiot, essentially begging for her forgiveness. You bit your lip, cheeks burning with shame.

“I know. That's why I didn't call you” The words came out quick. Too quick. Her own eyes widened and she immediately turned to face you, obviously surprised that she let those words slip out.

You just stared at each other for a long beat, not sure what to say.

“That sounded wrong, I didn't mean it like t—” She attempted.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shouted, the burning in your cheeks was now a product of anger.

She sighed, running a hand through her buzzed head but her lack of response only fuelled your anger.

“What am I inconveniencing you by coming here? By talking to you?” You asked, not expecting an answer before continuing “I'm sorry Navarro, I thought we were fucking friends!” 

“We are!” Navarro began, attempting to approach you. You could see the remorse in her eyes but you couldn't stand here anymore, the stinging in your eyes becoming unbearable

No, you weren't going to cry here, you weren't going to fall this low.

“Clearly we fucking weren't!” You spoke as you walked to the ladder, climbing down without missing a beat. “Cause it looks like all I fucking was, was Bjorn’s girlfriend that you had to put up with” 

“That's fucking bullshit!” Navarro argued but it didn't matter anymore, you were going down faster, getting out of her eyesight.

The girl walked closer, looking down at you from the gap on the floor but you refused to look up.

“Y/n you can't seriously believe that shit!” Navarro's desperate voice echoed in the ship and as the elevator got closer to the surface of the ship, you jumped down with a loud thud. 

You don't remember how you got out of there. You don't even remember what stupid excuse you came up with to tell the supervisors but you remember Navarro trying to call out your name. 

The moment you got home you tossed your clothes to the ground and got inside the shower.

The moment the water fell on your burning body you felt the walls around you crack. With a choked sob your tears started flowing.

Navarro was special, she was special to you. And you thought you were special to her too.

The way she talked to you, the way she comforted you, the way she looked at you.

When you laid in your bed feeling small and pathetic and a like fucking moron for believing that you weren't just Bjorn's ‘friend’ and now ex all this time.

[pauline-sunshine]

Guilty as sin?

rbr! Sebastian Vettel x Fem! Reader

inspo: guilty as sin?, by taylor swift

Warnings: mentions of masturbation

Word count: 1656

A/N: I apologize for any errors! English is not my first language. Enjoy!

Even the toughest people need to catch their breath at least for a second. Especially when their lives move at 230 km/h. That’s when a summer break becomes quite handy.

At this point, your life seemed to be perfect. You love your job at Red Bull, Sebastian is fighting for another title. You have the opportunity to support him at every race. You are his friend and he feels comfortable sharing personal things with you. Sometime he sends you his favorite songs because he wants you to listen to them or teaches you german slang. What’s to wish for, right?

For this summer break Luis and his girlfriend Liz invited some drivers, wags and buddies to their villa. It was a week vacation for everyone to have fun with friends by the pool. And it would’ve been fun indeed if you didn’t have a major 1 yearlong crush on Sebastian Vettel. It was easier to bottle up all your feelings when you both were at work but now…seeing how freaking adorable he is, observing his natural behavior, his good humor being mixed with his high intelligence and looks. It was just way too much for your poor little heart.

Well, long story short, you were just in love with this man. He was the object of your desires and dreams. It took you less than a second to become all wet and start whispering his name while touching yourself imagining it was him. Everything, even the smallest interactions with the driver made you a complete mess and after you would spend hours imagining things you would do if he was yours.

The vacation was going as planned. The weather favored you and it was another day by the poolside. You were sitting there reading a book and sunbathing while others were swimming.

“Y/N, please, come to the pool. I need you to win Luis” pleaded Sebastian.

“Seb, sorry, I’m not in a mood for all your water fights” you quickly looked up to him.

“Is that a no, schatz?”

“It is a no, Seb, and stop calling me that unless you tell me what that means” trying not to pay too much attention you just casually continued reading as the loud splashes were your calming background music.

“And what about this?” You heard the whisper in your ear and felt cold wet hands finding their way from your hips to the waist. You gasped at this cold touch and the next thing you remember is finding yourself in the pool in Sebastian’s embrace, which was accompanied by his laugh as a reaction to your screams.

Needless to say, shower that day took you a bit longer. As you were recalling his hands leaving trace on your skin, your labored breath mixed with his name upon your lips.

///

“Jees, it has been raining science the night” Liz spoke as she was staring to the window

“No pool today, I guess” answered Luis as he hugged the girl from behind and gave her a kiss on her head.

During the day everyone was trying their best to occupy themselves. Boys were having a passionate discussion about their season; the ladies were chatting in the kitchen while cooking dinner.

“So, you and Seb, huh?” inquired Liz being supported by other wags smiles.   

“Oh, giiirls, seriously, stop. We’re just good friends” you laughed.

“Well, maybe you consider him as a friend but he’s definitely not. Luis told me one day how he just couldn’t shut up talking about you”

“Liz, what do you mean?”

“Are you truly don’t see how he looks at you, he is just…well…different around you. Softer and more caring, and we know that usually he’s a super energized pain in the ass” explained Hamilton’s girlfriend.

At this moment your eyes were wider than the planet Earth. Are they serious or just using your feelings to have fun? The fact that the dinner was ready saved you from continuing this conversation.

As you were setting the table you caught yourself daydreaming, fixing your gaze on the german driver, and replaying what Liz told you. Is there even the slightest chance you two could be together? Right now, you felt so privileged just by looking at him. Yes, this was Sebastin without his car, race suit and image he had to show. It was just Seb with his soft naturally curvy hair, wearing a bit worn out t-shirt. There was something so soft and so cozy about the way he looked. It was just the man you loved.

“The dinner is served!” Liz called everyone to the dining hall.

Men came to the room filling it with loud voices. The big wooden table, decorated with long white candles burning, mixed with a view of rainy gray skies peeking through big windows. The combination was bringing unsensible touch of warmth and calmness.

“Smells so good,” Sebastian exclaimed with a smile, “schatz, did I tell you look great today?” he now approached you fixing his gaze on yours “do you mind if I sit with you?”

After the dinner you found yourself looking at the piano. It was standing in the corner of the living room next to the big couch. You’ve noticed it on the first day of your arrival but never got to play. Now seemed to be the perfect time as almost everyone left to their rooms and some stayed at the dining hall.

But it didn’t go as planned. Obviously. As you were in the middle of playing you heard a voice which made you stop.

“Y/n, you are a woman of many talents!” Liz was applauding as you turned to her.

“Oh, I really didn’t want to disturb anyone” you apologized.

“Are you joooking?! That was amazing!” she continued, “EVERYONE go down here!”

Eventually the room filled with people. They were sitting next to you with expressions of pure joy and excitement on their faces.

“Can you sing something for us?” Luis asked.

“Well, there’s a song that I really like at the moment, I think it would sound great with the piano,” and you started playing.  

As you got to play firs notes you smiled because you new the reason why this particular song was playing non stop in your mind and this exact reason was sitting in this room. Every line, every single word screamed “it’s him”.

Drowning in the Blue Nile

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

That was the song you two were obsessing over recently and wondering how come the band was so underrated.

Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox

I'm seeing visions

Am I bad, or mad, or wise?

Sebastian Vettel made your life filled with joy and laughter yet he was so out of reach for you with your unrequited love. You would imagine you two being together which made you drowning in your visions. Were you bad or mad for thinking about that? Were you wise for bottling it all up when he was actually close to you?

What if he's written "Mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

Sometimes just thinking that you were only his was enough because your heart belonged to Sebastian.

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our tryst

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

On the days you knew Sebastian were coming to the Red Bull headquarters you were running to the office just to see him, to make sure he is happy and alright.

If long suffering propriety is what they want from me

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly

I choose you and me, religiously

Your friends told you a million times during this year to go out more, go on dates but it wasn’t for you. Even if you gave some guy a chance you would quicky realize his not even close to Seb. They were not funny, not clever, they just weren’t as good enough as him. He was always at the back of your mind.

He sent me “Downtown Lights”

I hadn't heard it in a while

Am I allowed to cry?

As you were singing the last lines your eyes met Sebastian’s and he smiled back at you.

The room exploded with applause. You played a couple of songs more and then all of your friend group was just sitting in the living room and chatting for a little longer.

“Good night, everyone” you wished as you were leaving the room and going upstairs to your bedroom.

You mind was a mess after realizing what song you just sang.

“Was it too bold to sing that song? Does he know something now? But it was just a song and moreover it isn’t even my song. Can we call it a good cover version except a love confession to Sebastian?”

As you were beating yourself up and pacing around the bedroom, the door opened and Sebastian entered.

“How come you never told me you knew how to play piano?” he questioned cutting the distance between you two.

“I don’t know, it just didn’t come up, I suppose. You know, we don’t have pianos standing around the paddock,” you beamed and slightly bit your lip.

He smiled, “I guess you have a point”, he came even closer to you, “I actually wanted to ask if you’d agree to be piano to my guitar.”

He realized everything during the time Y/N was playing a piano. His feelings are mutual. He couldn’t help but smile when you were singing. Still, it amazed him how you had more courage to confess than him. You always fascinated him, to be honest.

“What?” the only thing you could say with a completely blank mind, which was caused by his question.

Sebastian shortened the distance and you felt how the man intertwined your fingers.

“I love you, schatz,” he grabbed you by the waist and left a soft kiss on your smiling lips.