"Welcome, welcome! Don't be afraid, my name is sebastian, and I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just a humble shopkeeper selling my wares.."
he's so touchstarved. he never meant to be this clingy. but from the first time you crawled through his vent he knew something about you was different. you'd always apologised when a teammate flashed his oh so sensitive eyes, you'd always be careful whenever you put your hands on him by mistake. he hated how you pulled away like you'd burnt yourself, but he knew you were just keeping him comfortable.
"It must be exhausting, no? when was the last time you slept, hm?.."
the first night you stay over, convinced into the safety of his hideout for a well needed rest, he's never felt his heartbeat run so fast. he pats the ground next to his tail - you're hesitant, he knows it. but when you sit beside him he curls around you so sweetly, almost like a big lap dog. he's safe with you, his skin doesn't crawl when your fingertips brush against him. he's happy, he's happy with you.
"...There's no rush, is there? close your eyes, and relax a bit. Nobody, and nothing, can hurt you while you're in here. I'll make sure of it."
he makes sure you're asleep before he rests his head in your lap, a deep rumble from his chest as he subconsciously purrs into you. he doesn't even realise he's doing it, at first. he'll move before you wake up, surely. but for now, there's no shame in indulging himself a little. right?
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鈥媡hat feeling you get when the only person you can truly gleam any sort of comfort from is the entity that is going to one day devour your soul
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i cry over sebastian vettel approximately .... three times a week.
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