#wag more bark less

[darkwood-sleddog]

Tried these as a nail trim reward today and it was a BIG hit. Sigurd even let me do all his nails without the aid of the scratchboard which was amazing. They don’t smell as bad as you’d think either.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ bark like you want it !!

ᝰ.ᐟ in the world of sports, there's only one thing people care more about than getting hot 'n sweaty with the athletes: the girlies who are the ones these men are running home to. alternatively: a headcanon post about the hyper-specific wag!reader the bllk boys would end up with. ( fem!reader & sfw )

featuring yoichi isagi, reo mikage, seishiro nagi, rensuke kunigami, rin itoshi author's notes since wives and girlfriends is wag + the song has been stuck in my head, i thought 'bark like you want it' was a silly, cute name for the post lol. warning that isagi's section mentions having kids!!!!

౨ৎ YOICHI ISAGI — the girl next door !! your dynamic is: the two of you have known each other since childhood, and throughout every stage of his life and career, you've been right by his side. when isagi confesses to you shortly after scoring the winning goal of the u-20 match, he's a blushing, awkward, stuttering mess. despite his newfound fame and notoriety (which will only continue to grow), yoichi isagi is still the same boy you've spent living next door to since your elementary days. when he goes pro and becomes a world famous athlete, surrounded by models and actresses, the only girl to still give him butterflies is you. you love him for him. in every speech he has to give, he's always singing praises about you and your unconditional support and love. the wedding you two have is intimate and fairly private, although isagi can't help but post a picture of the two of you outside the obgyn clinic with the cheesy caption of "my baby is having a baby!!!! 😍😁"

the girlies love you because: you're what people think of when someone describes someone as being down to earth. your social media presence is nonexistent, save for a private instagram with less than 200 followers. you live your life in peace with a man who doesn't stress you out in the slightest — in fact, your relationship with isagi is aspirational to a lot of people. one of the number one athletes in the world and super hot 'n rich, and the only thought that rivals soccer on his one-track mind is you, his wife that he's hopelessly devoted to. you're always seen at every single one of his games, sporting his jersey, and always cheering happily when he scores. once the two of you have kids, you'll be carrying your baby (who's also sporting isagi's jersey🥹) every one of his fans that happens to run into you in public can see why isagi is so in love with you; there are only stories about how kind and sweet you are. it's why you're known as the sweetheart of the soccer wags <3

౨ৎ REO MIKAGE — the ceo !! your dynamic is: an arranged marriage... gone right? you belong to a conglomerate family that runs in the same circle as the mikages. you're in the middle of starting up your own beauty brand, and you're trying to make a name for yourself. reo is occupied with his professional soccer career. neither of you want to go through with this marriage interview, but to appease your families, you two agree, not expecting that you two would match each other's freak for real. he's competitive and likes what he can't have; you're little miss independent and equally competitive. he tells you he doesn't mind the engagement, and you get your lawyers to draft a pretty prenup that'll milk him for all he's worth while keeping your assets safe. he buys you a massive engagement ring, and you ask him, "that's the best you can do?" the minute he's in control of mikage corp, he knows he'll gladly let you take the reins.

the girlies love you because: you are the corporate it girl. everyone is obsessed with your paparazzi photos that exude office siren but make it actually work appropriate. there are how-to videos on copying your style. not to mention, you're a businesswoman. every time you attend one of reo's games, you strategically reapply your beauty brand's lipgloss, or tease new products by applying said unreleased products while on camera. someone once asked you in a comment how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? to which you replied @.reomikage how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? just because your man spoils you doesn't mean you put him on a pedestal. princess treatment is the bare minimum for you.

౨ৎ SEISHIRO NAGI — the twitch streamer !! your dynamic is: so silly. you're the type of girl who looks good even with pimple patches on your face and your oversized glasses that you only wear because it has blue light blocking lenses on them. you're a well known streamer and got your start during the peak of fortnite (you started off being comically bad at the game, but again: you're a pretty girl. you being good would've just exploded every guys' brains), but once you got your bag secured, you started posting the content you preferred (dress to impress on roblox). everyone loves you because you're hilarious on camera, but you don't really keep up with sports, so when nagi joins your stream, everyone is going insane but you have no clue as to who he is. when they start spamming the chat about him, you ask your viewers "is he hot? no, scratch that. is he rich?" you've always been nagi's online crush & you basically made his whole entire month when you asked him to join you on your instagram live one day. the whole entire time, he's looking at you on the screen with literal hearts in his eyes, and he struggles to fight back his smile. it's so difficult for him to maintain a neutral expression, and this is the most any of his fans have ever heard him speak, and the comments can't stop talking about "how geeked bro is rn"

the girlies love you because: just like isagi's wag, you are a genuine sweetheart. you never hard launch nagi, but you do tease confirmation on your relationship. you'll wear one of his hoodies that people know is his, or sometimes you'll stream when nagi is over and people can see his shoulder in the frame or they'll hear him say something to you to make you laugh. you post pictures of your view of the field, usually captioning it with something like "damn. i could be going crazy on sims 4 rn" you're just such a fun person to watch, and people consider you + nagi to be their comfort couple (although most of the comforting energy comes from you and your antics).

౨ৎ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI — the pilates instructor !! your dynamic is: fun and flirty, and straight out of a romcom. you're a well-known pilates instructor and in an attempt to get more girls to garner an interest in the sports channel, the network reaches out to you to see if you want to be in a humorous segment where you try to host a pilates class with some of the pro sports team. these guys are all about bulking and lifting and stamina training, and they don't really hold pilates in a high regard, so the comedy could be there. you obviously agree, and you end up teaching kunigami's team first. he can barely concentrate on the class and fumbles a few times because he's too focused on how good you look in your lululemon hot pink set. he's trying so hard to be respectful, and when you talk to him after the class, thanking him for being one of the only guys to not look down on pilates before they had to endure a session, he's trying so hard to avert his gaze because the sight of you slightly sweaty and in your workout clothes is doing something to him. you love teasing him, and the fact that he's a gentleman and still believes in chivalry makes it all the more fun.

the girlies love you because: besides making working out fun, you feature kunigami in some videos and always tease him by making up and demonstrating some freaky positions that always have him turning red in the face. you're always so considerate and supportive of your followers, and in return, they're always supportive of your own endeavors. when you come out with your own workout line, you put your boyfriend's famous name and hot body to use. he's in your marketing campaign, but honestly, the videos of him looking at you when you're wearing your own workout set is advertisement enough.

౨ৎ RIN ITOSHI — the unbothered model !! your dynamic is: centered on the concept of private not secret. neither of you get too personal on social media; you just post aesthetic photos and sponsored content for revolve & rin's socials are managed by a team. like everyone else in the world with decent eyesight, rin's struck by your beauty. unlike most of the guys who are attracted to you, though, rin stands out. for starters, he actually has the confidence to approach you. even better: he's actually polite when he does. normally, the ones bold enough to approach you are bold and loud and kinda sleazy. rin is nothing like that. underneath both yours and his cold exterior, the two of you actually share some of the same niche interests. rin's a pretty intense person on the field and to the public, and there's not a single photo on the internet where you can be seen smiling. the aura the two of you have when paired together is insane... insanely intimidating. he's also the person you're most comfortable with and vice versa. the two of you can be messy and unfiltered and annoying with each other, and no one else.

the girlies love you because: you serve effortless cool girl. at every game you attend to watch rin, not once do the cameras catch you off guard. side profile? stunning. catching your usual neutral expression morph into concern and shock as rin gets shoved by an opponent? you still look insanely good. your hair is always done, nails are always done, your outfits are always fitted and put the other wags to shame. when girls think of iconic partners of athletes, you're always the first on their mind. there are tiktok tutorials that are trying to teach people how to emulate your energy, "[name] outfit inspo", or makeup videos trying to recreate your look. photos of you at rin's game is on every girl's "wag dream life" pinterest board, but the most popular photo is a grainy image someone managed to capture. it's taken after rin's game, and the two of you snuck off to the back of the stadium to be alone. he has his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms are around his shoulders, and his forehead is pressed against yours and... it's the only photo where people have seen either of you smiling.

[chenardy]

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)

part of the ‘if fwb’ spinoff // simon riley x f!reader

johnny’s been… doubting, you see, about the validity of simon’s dating life.

like, for example, if he really was dating anyone.

simon looks content in a way that he never was before—intense eyes turned down towards his phone, unapproachable aura less angry but more settled, like he’s warding off people not because of his dislike but more so because he’s not available anymore.

not like he ever made himself available before, but it’s fundamentally different this time around; self-imposed walls brought down to make room for unbridled fulfillment.

he looks like he’s won the damn cup.

and that’s what makes johnny twitch—someone out there was just as, if not more, valued as the championship cup to simon, but he’s never introduced anyone to them.

not a picture nor an update nor even a PSA that they need to commission another WAG jacket for his partner because simon is tight-lipped about whoever it was he’s seeing. it’s not like he’s even dancing around the fact, it’s just that whoever it was he’s dating was never free.

not for a game nor a night-out nor a party. in simon’s house.

this level of secrecy was just unheard of. even the other men in the league who have a tight leash on their private lives still have living proof of their partners unlike simon who leaves it at, “she’s busy,” like that covers anything.

which is why johnny would like to go on record and say: he is totally valid for choosing to crash at simon’s place without letting him know.

he remembers getting wasted with the others, then refusing to be driven home, only to take a cab to simon’s place. he must have been coherent enough to remember the code for simon’s house, and was shockingly coordinated enough to even punch it in, but his memories begin to splinter there.

next thing johnny knows, he’s waking up, feeling like he’s been hit by a freight train. his tongue is heavy inside his mouth, the pungent taste of last night’s alcohol rising from the back of his throat like bile. he groans, blinking blurry eyes as he tries to remember where he’s at or what he’s done, only for nausea to wash over him so intensely he flops back down onto the bed—

he pats at the cushioning.

—onto the sofa then.

by the devil, what did he do last night? got him drinking like he’s got a new liver to replace this one he fucked with.

christ. he needs water, or a whole bottle of mouthwash, honestly.

“mactavish?”

johnny jumps, twisting his head to the side at the call of his name. it’s simon, of course it is, but he looks dishevelled, unkempt in a way that looks criminal because—johnny roves his eyes over his friend—who the hell looks that good when they’ve just woken up?

simon looks like he can be the next cover of inside fitness; give tyler fucking seguin a run for his own money.

“wha’,” is all johnny gets to say because he starts sputtering, dizziness hitting him intensely again. he gags, and only has enough mind to cover his mouth with his fist.

“jesus– down the hall. go,” simon barks and johnny warbles his thanks before locking himself in the guest bathroom.

.

johnny comes back out to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and melted butter wafting through. simon did say he had a problem with his kitchen vents which made cooking a problem, but johnny sure isn’t complaining right now. although, he supposes that it is a whole different problem when it’s steak or some ribs that simon’s firing up.

oh well, johnny thinks, scratching his side as he ambles to the island, pointedly quiet because simon might kick him out before breakfast is even done.

simon eyes him with a muted approval and johnny grins because, hey, he just secured free breakfast.

he’s about to break the silence, to apologize once more he guesses, when the sounds of padded feet descending from the stairs leading up to simon’s lavishly decorated—sarcasm intended—second floor pierces through the silence.

johnny’s back straightens, his exhausted mind clicking awake.

he turns to his friend but simon’s already angled towards the kitchen door, facing away from johnny. he looks relaxed, previous half-bareness now covered up with a thin white shirt, and johnny doesn’t know why he missed it but simon looks like a perfect picture of a boyfriend fixing up breakfast post-coitus.

“jesus–” johnny begins to say, the pieces linking because yeah, simon’s never denied that he’s been doing some dating around and it’s just johnny’s drunken whim to assume that the most talented ice hockey player of this decade was lying about his relationship status and—good lord, that’s a fucking person diving in simon’s arms, alright.

johnny watches, with his mouth agape, as simon and the mystery woman talk to each other in hushed whispers, his friend having to bend forward to make up for the height difference.

johnny watches, like the third-wheel he is, as simon laughs, actual quiet chuckles and not that children-crying-in-terror-inducing cackle, before nuzzling his nose over your own, and breathing you in.

johnny watches the quiet kiss, just lips pecking each other, and it’s all so soft and tender and johnny feels really, really bad that he didn’t get to give simon and his girl the privacy you two surely deserve and—

your eyes open, flitting to him because johnny is sure that he’s standing out amidst what must be a normally empty kitchen. he doesn’t even get to count three seconds before you’re screaming, lurching out of simon’s hold and hiding behind his bulk in your terror.

simon, screw him, seems to not have cared that johnny was privy to such an intimate moment and just turns enough to catch your attention again before murmuring reassurances. he says things like, “mactavish? the punk ass who got his hair shaved for the new season only to realize no one’s actually gon’ see it because of the helmet? remember?”

“what,” johnny chokes out, embarrassed that that’s what simon told you about and not, like, his player number or something.

“oh,” you gasp out anyway, clearly having heard of the shaved-sides and using it as a marker for johnny. “oh!”

you dance away from behind simon to make your way to johnny, your previous embarrassment gone from your gait. he’s so sure, though, that he’s seen you from somewhere, but the thought’s dashed out of his mind when you chirp, “you’re my best friend’s favourite player!”

“yeah?” johnny replies, gaining his confidence back.

“yeah! she won’t stop showing me the highlights of your guys’ game against that big german fella an’ his team!”

johnny laughs, his own giddiness ramping up. he remembers that game, alright. he remembers the miracle play during the final period when price was able to score an empty-netter. he remembers how, in his adrenaline-induced ecstasy, johnny turned to the player to his side, konig, and laughed in his face.

johnny made headlines then, and he’s saved every single one. his fiancee even printed a copy of her favourite shot and stuck it in her wallet.

(“for good luck,” she said with a wink, like johnny doesn’t have his prick twitching in her fist.)

“well, y’got anything for me to sign for her?”

“uhh…”

“guess you can use that one group photo our marketing team gave to us,” simon finally pipes up, and johnny turns, surprise lining his face at seeing the rich spread of breakfast.

he didn’t even notice simon setting up the table, too engrossed in the high that came from reliving the memory of laughing at konig’s face which resulted to him being pushed into the glass protector by a protective horangi.

not even that had dampened johnny’s elation then and now.

“oh yeah. thanks!” you say to simon before you run out.

you’re barely out of their eyesights when johnny turns to simon with a grin.

“what.”

“oh, you fucken’ sap!” johnny sings because he’s still too hungover to come up to simon and playfully punch him. “and why were ye hidin’ lassie?”

simon grumbles something as he turns, pretending to busy himself with the now-empty coffee pot.

“wha’s’at?”

“i said,” simon begins, heaving out a sigh. “that we jus’ became official last week.”

“oh, shit,” johnny whispers sagely. he blinks. “so, uh, who’s the one you’ve been callin’ yer girl?”

“oh fuck off johnny,” simon hisses, sputtering, before throwing the tea towel at him.

“what now!?” johnny yelps, ducking away from the soaring towel. “what’d i do now–” he gasps, realization dawning on him. “you didn’t.”

simon looked like he was going to say something but by then you were running back with the photo and a marker pen, telling him your friend’s name—alessandra, “or sandy!”—for johnny to sign.

while johnny’s busy practicing his signature on a scrap of newspaper that simon gave to him, he pretends not to hear the giggly whispers between his friend and his friend’s new but longtime-pining-for girlfriend.

“and me? why aren’t you asking f’r my signature?”

“oh ‘cuz y’r mine.”

johnny dutifully ignores the lips smacking sounds as he finally signs the picture, making sure to add devil horns on simon’s head.

serves him right.

i just. love fluff and hockey au sm 😞

[reaperexe]

Puppy ♡

Summary : When your overly energetic puppy plays wingman for you.

warnings : none, just fluff <3

Who knew raising a puppy was so difficult not in the sense of the amount of work it takes but the amount of energy the tiny little life had. Nothing could tire him, no amount of fetch, runs or walks.

So when you took him for a walk that afternoon and he somehow got off leash and went out of sight in less than a minute you knew you were in for a long walk.

You seemed to be running for hours till you reached the little puppy only to see him approach a guy sitting on the park bench with a cat near his feet. 'Wow so much for stranger danger' you thought.

The cat hisses as the little puppy approaches earning a pet from the guy as your puppy sticks his tongue out and wags his tail regardless and barks to get picked up.

You are shocked and a bit jealous to see the puppy settle so calmly in his arms when he wont even stay in yours and always wiggles to be put down.

You approach the trio, the cat eyeing you cautiously. You have to admit this guy does look pretty cute up close, maybe your puppy does have some taste after all.

"Um excuse me?" You say as he turn away from the puppy and to you, ok this guy is hot, you think.

"Oh is he yours?" He says holding out his arms with the puppy, as the little guy wags his tail and looks at you with his tongue sticking out.

"Yeah he seems to like you" You sigh with a smile 'and maybe i do too' you think.

The cat near your feet now stands up rubbing herself all over your legs while purring softly. "Seems like we got the wrong pets" He laughs petting your puppy.

"Do you wanna take a seat?" He asks noticing your state from the run behind the little puppy as you smile, embarrassed and take a seat next to him, placing the cat in your lap.

You spend the next hour just talking and exchanging names till you notice your puppy has now fallen asleep in his arms making you feel a bit jealous but also happy, seems like you've got to be close to this guy now, only for your puppy's sake of course.

"Well we should head back now" you say picking up the little guy and you notice his face falls a little but he agrees, picking up his cat from your lap.

You spend the next week taking the puppy to walk in the afternoon and like clockwork he would run up to the guy and his cat letting you have a reason to talk to him as well.

Today was different, you were exhausted from this week and all the work you had to do still you mustered up the energy and took the puppy for a walk.

He dragged you by the leash pulling you to the usual duo who sat at the bench. The guys smile dropping at your tired face.

"Everything ok? is this guy giving you trouble?" He says petting the puppy earning him tail wags and licks.

"No its not him its just work" You sigh sitting next to him as he pats the spot next to him.

"Oh it will get better trust me I'm going through it too" He chuckles as you hum along.

Talking to him honestly makes things much better, as you feel a bit energized now and finally notice how he looks today.

He's wearing a nicer sweatshirt and pants than his usual one which has loose threads at the end, his hair looks nicer, more styled and he's definitely wearing some cologne.

He smiles at you awkwardly seeing you eye him "does it look bad?" he asks honestly as your eyes widen.

"No- No you look great!" You add quickly.

"Oh great thanks" He sighs with a relieved look .

"Um i wanted to ask-" He says before being cut off by the puppy's bark for more pets causing both of you to chuckle as he pets him.

"You were saying?" You ask again tilting your head.

"Yeah i was wondering if-" He begins again only to be cut off by a meow that comes from your lap and you look down to see the cat purring for pets as well.

Laughing at the situation he musters up enough courage and yells, closing his eyes "would you like to go on a date with me?"

You sit there stunned and so do the pets you guess stilling in their places adding to the dramatic feel.

You chuckle as he eyes you nervously for a response.

"Thought you'd never ask" You chuckle causing him to sigh of relief as he smiles at you.

Sensing the energy your puppy starts bouncing with energy again before trying to lick the cat earning a aggressive hiss as you both chuckle.

"Good pet" He exhales petting both while you rest your head on his shoulder with a soft smile.

[colourstreakgryffin]

So…

Alastor is a deer, yes? How would a relationship with him and a Coyote Reader go, I’ve been having brain rot over it for the past few days, it’s just to ironic

Much love xoxo

I definitely can do! Hehe. I love contrasts like this and I think about stuff like this too. I chose bears, not coyotes. It’s so silly yet perfect! Alastor out here hating dogs so this’ll be an enemies to lovers thing… not my favourite but new

Alastor- The Prey and the Predator

Let’s get this clear… Alastor does not like dogs. He actively dislikes dogs so when he finds you. A coyote sinner, he is not interested and he’ll avoid you like the plague. You remind him too much of the dogs of his past that he despises

For a while, Alastor has a one-sided disliking towards you. Solely because you’re a Coyote sinner but after some more time of working/staying at the hotel. He begins to examine you more as a person and less for your canine features

And he realises just how much of a prick he was being for… mostly no reason. You are a dog on the outside but you’re a dove on the inside, Alastor supposed he can try get around the whole Coyote thing you have… it’s not like you want to be a Coyote

Alastor goes from ignoring and snarling at you openly to shyly approaching you with a bouquet of roses and asking for you to forgive him. It’s so interesting how hew went from closed-off, uncaring and hateful to your overall presence to clearly having a fat crush on you. Your personality is beautiful, he eventually can ignore the dog features

Now. If you think you’re the one who’s dom in this relationship, just because you’re the coyote and Al’s the deer. You’re very wrong. Al’s a predator in a prey’s body, a wolf in deer’s fur. He is in charge and he’s the one hunting you down

Alastor has a mix of prey and predator instincts around you when you’re angry. He has the urge to subdue you when you’re in your own predator instincts mode but he also has the urge to avoid you. His predator urges always wins though

However, you swear you can smell delicious fresh venison off the Radio Demon… he does smell gorgeous but you’re not a cannibal like that

Alastor actually can’t help but find the way your tail wags when he pets through your ears and the soft dog-like whines of happiness you let out when hugging him… insanely cute. He may not like dogs but he has a exception for this precious coyote

Alastor doesn’t find it funny when you joke about eating him. It’s quite a sensitive topic and he regularly asks you to not make any type of joke, such as that. This connection you share with him may have grown from being a one-sided hatred to a full-blown relationship but that doesn’t mean he will completely excuse all dog-like mannerisms you have

Alastor actually really likes it when you climb into his lap and curl up. You’re the same size as Vaggie, maybe a bit taller. You’re a shorter person but you’re not so small to be identified as an actual Coyote, you just have the ears and tail but yet. Here you are, curled up and sleeping in his lap in the most canine-like way possible

Alastor has a bad sense of general personal hygiene but yet, he needs you to regularly check up on your own personal hygiene since he cannot stand the smell of your wet dirty fur…

Angel Dust definitely gave you a collar and leash for your birthday, as a sick joke and Alastor is like… “may we use it?”

Alastor enjoys grooming your fur. Your soft, you may let out a few coyote growls here and there but you’re not going to hurt him so he can trust you to stay obedient and still whilst he brushes through your ears and tail

Alastor has made a cute and convenient rule with you; you both communicate in emergencies through animal noises. You’ll bark coyote-like out, he’ll bleat deer-like out. It’s the way you two alarm each other of something happening. The second you bark, he knows something is going down and you’re calling for him

Alastor lets you touch him and his deer features, no problem and no need for permission. Your claws aren’t that strong and all you really have is incredible speed, agility, jaw strength and night vision. You don’t actually have any ability to harm him, even when he flinches here and there, out of pure instinct

Alastor calls you a ‘bitch’ all the time to other people and out loud, all to screw and mess around with you. He’s an asshole of a classy gentleman, he’ll be offensive. Even to his partner! Yes, you’re a bitch but you’re his bitch

Alastor, at one point, will finally open up about his trauma centred around dogs and explain to you exactly why he treated you so awfully at first. How he went from a hater to a lover. He is so glad you’re quite understanding and patient with him so when he lays down the rules of your relationship with him, you accept them and that grows his love for you even more

You’re incredible, for being part a wild vicious canine such as a Coyote, darling~!

“My dear. Let’s ease up on the growling, what’s gotten you so irritate? Did you get into another disagreement with my fellow, Husk?”

[lipglossanon]

Bound For The Floor

dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!fem reader (one shot)

Dedicated to 🍁 anon! I hope you enjoy it!! 💜 😘

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is mid 20’s with Leon being older, appearances from Ark Thompson and Chris Redfield, jealous Leon, masturbation, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, knotting, biting, aftercare

looked over a smidge 🤏

Title from Bound for the Floor by Local H

It’s raining the day you’re brought home. To your new home. You’ve been chosen by a man with kind eyes to keep his other hybrid company while he works. He smells nice and he’s gentle when handling you so you’re more than amenable to joining his little family. Ark is his name, kinda funny but you think it’ll be super easy to remember since it rhymes with bark— something you’re very good at when called for (not that good pups bark a lot). 

He talks to you on the drive from the adoption agency to his home, explaining his routine and describing the dogman you’ll be living with from now on as well. Ark even shows you a picture of Leon on his phone while you’re stopped at a redlight, making your tail wag in excitement at meeting the rugged looking hybrid. 

In shy, halting words, you tell him about your short stint at the adoption agency. Raised with only caretakers, they finally gave you over to the agency fairly recently in the hope of finding you a forever home. You’ve experienced nothing but kindness and understanding with the outside world which might make you a little naive; however, it does nothing to dilute how happy you are at the opportunity to have your very first owner. 

“Leon, we’re home!” Ark calls out into the empty foyer as he sets all of your things down on the floor. 

Your eyes are comically big as you take in everything around you, nose scenting the air and picking up a delicious smell that has you drifting further into the house. A gruff hum pulls your attention to the hybrid Ark had called Leon. 

You smile at him, tail wagging nonstop, “Hi!”

His lip curls in distaste but he only stares you down without saying anything. 

“Leon,” Ark’s voice lilts in warning, “be nice.”

Leon rolls his eyes with a snort, but walks closer to you.

“Hello,” he grits out and your tail wags harder. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you smile even bigger. 

“Get along, okay?” Your owner ruffles your ears and you turn your bright smile to him. 

Nodding, you hum in agreement. Ark shoots another stern look to Leon and walks off further into the house. 

“You smell nice,” you offer up to the serious dogman in front of you, “I’ve never smelled anyone as good as you before.”

A red flush bridges his nose and cheeks as he shrugs, “Yeah, right.”

You pout, “I mean it. Can I scent you?”

His body stiffens in place as his look shifts from disbelief to sheer surprise. 

“Uh, I guess—“

“Great!” You walk forward until your chests are nearly touching, “I’ve only ever done this with my litter mates, so I’m unsure on how to scent someone else.”

You can see Leon swallow as he tilts his head, “Oh? You smell like a kennel.”

You laugh, missing his gaze raking down your body, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting on our owner for a day and they keep us in a kennel so nothing happens before the adoption.”

Leon nods although you’ll come to find later that his adoption was much rougher and less pleasant than your own experience. 

You lean forward and bury your nose against his neck, whimpering when you can smell him unencumbered. You breathe in freshly mown grass and a spicy musk that has your mouth watering. Snuffling against him, you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips against his. 

Leon hands grip your hips but he only helps you rock yourself against him in a way that makes you whine and pant against his skin. Distantly, you feel his nose press against your neck and breathe in your own scent. He growls and you whine, tilting your head so he can nip and lick at your soft skin. 

With a low growl, Leon pries himself away from you even as you chase after the pleasurable feeling coursing through your body. 

“Behave, pup,” he murmurs in your ear and you let him pull away. 

“Leon,” you whine at him, pawing his chest as you watch him close his eyes and take a steady breath. 

“I need to go find our owner, stay here,” he walks you over to the couch and presses you down on the soft cushions.

When you go to rise as he steps back he holds his hand out.

“Stay. Be a good girl for me.”

You go hot all over, “Okay.”

His eyes darken but he turns and leaves the room, bringing Ark back after a few minutes.

“I feel hot,” you slur out, eyes pleading up at the men in front of you.

Leon stands behind Ark, stiff as a board while he watches. 

“Poor thing,” Ark soothes, softly rubbing your ears, “looks like Leon may have triggered an early heat.”

You sigh as Ark gently massages your ears and temples.

“Leon, can you take the rest of her things up to her room? I’ll carry her up and we’ll let her rest,” your owner says over his shoulder and your eyes track Leon as he leaves the room. 

“I want—“

“I know,” Ark sighs, “but let’s get you settled in and some meds in you. Tomorrow you’ll feel better.”

“M’kay,” you mumble, slumping into his chest as he picks you up bridal style. 

You feel him set you on a soft bed and coax you to swallow some icky tasting medicine before allowing you to drift off to sleep. At some point in the night, that delicious smell from earlier seeps into your brain and has you maneuvering until your face is buried in a warm chest. A low pleased rumble makes you press the dough of your thighs together as you sink deeper into sleep. 

The next morning you wake up to the door opening. 

“Leon,” Ark’s voice sighs out, “I thought I told you to let her rest.”

Arms snake out to wrap around your back and pull you further into the warm body in front of you. 

“I was here in case she needed something,” the dogman’s rough voice sent goosebumps skating across your skin. 

Ark’s palm brushes across your ears and you giggle and turn in Leon’s arms to look up at your owner. 

“Are you feeling better?” His brown eyes pinch with worry. 

“Much better,” you smile, “just a little tired.”

Ark’s eyes crinkles when he smiles in relief, “Good. I’ll let you rest some more. Leon can help you if you need anything.”

Your owner ruffles first your ears then Leon’s before slipping back out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Feeling shy, you shimmy away from Leon and climb out of bed. 

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you tug on a loose thread on your shirt.

He grunts in acknowledgment and you look over into his face. His blue eyes stare you down for a split second before he climbs out of bed as well. 

“Yeah, well s’only the right thing to do,” he mutters, “make sure to take those meds.”

He jerks his head to the nightstand behind you and you see that Ark must have brought up medicine and water when he checked in on you. 

“I will,” you nod, smiling at the grumpy dogman as he brushes his hair back, “thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off, following in Ark’s footsteps as he slips out of your room. 

You quickly take the heat suppressants and smile to yourself. It’s nice having a friend. Crawling back into bed, you shove your face in the pillow Leon used and sigh happily. He just smells so good! Your tail thumps against the bed as you breathe in his scent more. A small whine parts your lips as your cunt grows hot and wet, clit throbbing as the smell of fresh grass and spice fill your nose. 

You can’t help yourself as your fingers slip beneath the band of your underwear to tease across your slit. Panting against the pillow, you hump your fingers and let yourself pretend they were bigger and thicker. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, slick coating your hand along with the gusset of your panties. A yawn overtakes you and before you can get up to change, you fall asleep with your face buried in Leon’s scent. 

After that weird welcome home, Leon pretty much keeps to himself. When Ark’s around, he’s nearby, but acts aloof and distant if you try to befriend him. You’re really bummed out, and you don’t want him to snap at you like he did at the neighbor’s hybrid, a nice boy named Steve, so you just try to be polite and stay out of his way. You’re pretty much glued to your owner’s side anyways. He smells almost as good as Leon, like fresh coffee and leaves, so you’re constantly trying to sit in his lap. 

Leon always snarls his lip when he sees you snuggled up to Ark, letting him pet your ears and tail while he watches tv or reads. The first time you offered to move so Leon could get his ears rubbed, he turned his nose up and sat on the other side of the room; since then, you ignore him and happily enjoy Ark’s soft head pats.

But, every now and then, Leon does something nice that makes your heart flutter and leads you to think he likes you more than he shows. Falling asleep on the couch and then waking up in your bed, seeing your favorite food already prepared for lunch, or even simple chores being done before you get to them. Those little things have you seeking him out in thanks, but he always waves you away with a gruff word paired with a small blush on his cheekbones. 

One day, you come home from your walk with Ark only to smell someone new. Your ears perk up as your owner chuckles and gestures for you to walk on into the house while he takes off his shoes. Quickly beelining to the living room where the smell is stronger (a nice blend of sandalwood and vanilla), you stop in place to see Leon laughing at something another dogman is saying. 

“Oh, hello,” you give a shy wave to the two sitting on the couch. 

Leon glances over at you, eyes darting from you to the hybrid next to him. The stranger gives you a wide smile, drawing your eyes to his heavily stubbled jaw. 

“Hi, I’m Chris, you must be Leon’s new pup,” he grins over at the quiet dogman. 

You feel a flush of warmth spread throughout your chest from his words.

“She’s not my pup,” Leon mutters under his breath, but you still hear it making your smile a little dimmer. 

Chris ignores his friend and pats the spot open to his left, “Sit next to me so I can get to know you.”

You nod your head and walk a wide half circle to avoid being in Leon’s space to sit on the couch beside Chris. Quickly taking in his appearance, your tail wags when he smiles at you again. 

“I’ve been meaning to come over for a while. If I’d have known Leon had such cute company, it would’ve been sooner,” he angles his head to wink at you and one of his ears tilts back. 

Smiling, you shrug, “Well maybe you can visit more now. I love making new friends.”

Chris laughs and it causes your tail to thump against the couch. Unbeknownst to you, Leon tenses and elbows Chris in the ribs. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay, I’m pretty sure my owner is looking for me by now,” Chris lumbers to his feet and you have to crane your neck to keep eye contact.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Leon stands next. 

You wave while Leon practically steers Chris out of the room. 

“It’s nice meeting you,” Chris calls out before rounding the corner. 

“You too!” You move from the living room to watch Leon close the door behind his friend. 

“He’s nice,” you offer, smiling at the dogman. 

Leon grunts, “Chris is okay.”

You pause, not really understanding why Leon seems upset with you. 

“If-if you want to hang out alone with him, I can ask Ark to take me for walks when he visits,” you fiddle with your shirt hem, “I don’t want to get in your way or anything.”

Leon doesn’t say anything and you nod, slipping off to your room. Your chest hurts with disappointment leading you to curl up in a ball in the center of your bed, falling into a fitful sleep. Later the snick of your door shutting has you raising your head up, eyes slowly adjusting to the figure walking to your bed. 

“Leon?” Your voice rasps with sleep. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, kneeling on your bed before shifting until he can lay down, pulling your back to his chest, arms encircling your waist.

You stiffen against him, confused as to what he’s doing there. 

“I’m sorry,” he presses the words against your ear, “I’ve been pretty rude to you and it’s nothing you’ve done. From here on out, I’m gonna treat you better.”

You hum happily, “Thanks, Leon.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Sure,” you yawn, sleep already tugging your eyelids closed, “‘m happy we’re friends.”

“Friends,” he laughs to himself, “right.”

Weeks go by and Leon is true to his word. He’s more friendly and hangs around you even without Ark being around. He’s also way more touchy feely to your delight. Constantly scent marking you before you leave the house on your walks, going so far as to let you borrow his clothes if Ark is taking you to the park or even out while he shops. 

It makes those butterflies in your chest swarm and your heart beat fast whenever he does those kinds of things. And since he never asks for his shirts back, you wear them to bed, hands tucked into your panties as you breathe in his scent and get yourself off. You would feel a bit bad, but you see how Leon stares at you the next day—like he can smell the effect he has on you and it makes your skin buzz. 

There’s no telling how long this would have gone on, but luckily for you, Ark forgot to refill your meds and he’s out for the night, leaving you and Leon home alone. You truly only meant to tease the handsome dogman, make him feel as out of sorts as you do when he’s around; however, you didn’t realize how much being off of your medicine would affect you. 

Just being next to him on the couch as you watch television is making your palms sweat and your nipples hard. Trying to sit still is impossible. The more you shift around, the more uncomfortable you are until Leon’s hand comes down on your thigh like a hot brand on your skin. Whimpering, you press the dough of your thighs together, squishing his fingers in between the soft skin. 

“What’s gotten into you?” His low voice rumbles through your ears making your cunt leak into your panties. 

Not thinking it through, you sit up into a kneel and clamber onto his lap. 

“It’s hot,” you whine, grinding yourself down onto him, “want you to make me feel better, Leon.”

“Wha—“

You swivel your hips and feel his cock thicken underneath your ass, pressing against the seam of your shorts and making your eyelashes flutter. 

With a groan, Leon grabs your hips to stop them from bouncing down on his bulge. 

“Sweetheart—“

His voice dips out into a low moan as you lap at a sensitive spot on his neck before licking the shell of his ear. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your clothed pussy and it makes you whine. 

“B-bad girl,” he hisses, head falling back against the couch, ears flopping, “bad girl, bad p-puppy, oh fuck.”

You nip his bottom lip before messily licking into his mouth, grinding down on his thick cock as he leaks enough precum to stain his sweats. 

“Puppy, stop,” he groans, “we can’t, oh god, you need your meds and Ark—“

“He’s out with friends,” you pout, rocking your hips just right so your clit rubs against the seam of your shorts sending a sharp zing through your body, “and I don’t have any more medicine.”

“You never listen,” he growls and your tail droops. 

You let out a surprised squeal when Leon shifts off the couch to press you down into the floor. 

“Need me to stuff your pussy, huh?” he bites your ear, making you whimper, “‘m gonna be the only one sniffing around your greedy little cunt.”

Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy, grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit. 

“First I wanna see if you taste as good as you smell,” he kisses you heatedly before moving down your body. 

He slips your shorts off and tosses them across the living room. Leon buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your chubby pussy lips allowing Leon to lick at your clit easily. 

“Oh, oh,” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, softly rubbing over his fuzzy ears.

He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before pushing your panties to the side to lap at your hole. 

“Taste so good,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl, “mmm could eat your little cunt all day.”

“Leon, please,” you hump against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit, softly sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his rough sandpaper tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before sucking it gently. 

“So good,” you whimper, thighs falling open as far as they can go while your tail wags, “Leon.”

He growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His broad hands grab underneath your knees to shove your legs up to your chest. Pulling back, you moan as he spits on your cunt quickly followed by him burying his face against your soaked pussy. His rough stubble makes you squeal and pant while he licks and sucks your pussy lips. 

“So soft and wet, pup,” he grunts, pulling back to finally shed himself of the rest of his clothes. 

He strokes his cock to take the edge off and your mouth waters at the precum beading at the tip. With a groan, he notches the tip against your hole and glides the fat head up to smack against your clit. He presses his hips flush against you and you whine, the feel of the blood hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy. 

“Look how deep it’s gonna reach, pup,” his voice rumbles low in his chest, making your nipples ache.

He uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your bleary eyes take in how far his cock will be inside your needy cunt. 

“Oh god, Leon, s’too big,” you mewl, ears lying flat against your skull. 

With a warm chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide across your pudgy bud, grinding the head against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping slick onto the carpet. His cock presses into your pussy making you moan reedily, voice breaking into a gasp. 

He chuffs and gently bites the side of your neck, rocking his cock another inch into your clenching hole. 

“Pussy’s just small, honey,” he coos softly, sandpaper tongue licking up to the shell of your ear, “gotta stretch her out so you can take my knot.”

Your walls clench down on his dick making his hips stutter. His eyes darken and he pulls completely out. 

“How about we make it easier for this soft little cunt?”

Without letting you answer he flips you over into your hands and knees, one palm pressing down in the middle of your back and the other gripping your hip to raise your ass up. He slides in much easier in this position, bottoming out with a loud groan as you claw at the floor. 

Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Leon’s thick cock into your dripping pussy. 

“Wan’ it,” you slur, nails digging into the plush carpet, “want your knot, Leon.”

He growls and buries his cock to the hilt inside your cunt making you cry out from the sudden stretch. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick while you catch your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver all over, “such a good pup for me.”

“Leon,” you whimper, pussy walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly ruts into you.

He groans and pulls halfway out before bullying his dick back into your sopping wet hole. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he bites your shoulder, canines digging into your skin, “perfect pussy, made for me aren’t you, honey?”

 “Uh huh,” you gasp out your agreement, voice not wanting to work as Leon pounds your cunt hard enough you’re getting rug burn on your knees. 

He grips the base of your tail and pulls, making you scream— pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your orgasm takes you both by surprise. 

“Good girl,” he coos, dropping your tail to grip the fat of your ass with both hands, “so good, gripping me so tight with that little pussy, working for that knot like a good pup.”

Shuddering, your body trembles as Leon keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot as the tip kisses your cervix. Drool spills from your mouth as you heave in deep breaths. 

“Want you to cum one more time, pretty girl,” he lightly spanks your ass making you whine, “one more and I’ll knot this pretty pussy til she’s nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred til you’re stuffed to the brim?”

“Please, please, Leon,” you mumble, ass bouncing back against his thrusts, “want your knot, please, want it so bad.”

One of his hands dip below your abdomen to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, right there,” he kisses your neck, tongue lapping against your sweaty skin, “can feel you getting tighter. Cum for me, let me feel it.”

As Leon keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as Leon curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy. 

You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside. 

“So good for me,” Leon groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back, “perfect, so fucking perfect.”

You sigh gustily, body going limp as Leon continues to fill your pussy with load after load from his thick cock. He shifts until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably, hands petting your body gently. 

“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.

“Good,” he kisses the back of your head, “once I can pull out, wanna run you a bath. Gonna take care of you.”

Preening, you smile although he can’t see it, “That sounds so good.”

It’s quiet and relaxing as you bask in Leon’s soft touches and praise. As soon as he slips out of your sore cunt, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the bathroom. Setting you down on the edge of the tub, Leon works the taps and fills it with comfortably warm water.

Once he settles down in the basin, he maneuvers you to sit with your back to his chest. His warm hands rub at your arms and shoulders. 

“Let me know if you’re sore anywhere,” he kisses your temple. 

His softness is making your clit throb, loving how Leon treats you. 

After he works your arms and shoulders, he shifts down to your thighs. You moan low in your throat. 

“What if I’m sore here?” You bite your lip and grab one of his hands to shift it to your clit. 

He chuckles causing goosebumps down your body. 

“Oh? Need this fat pussy rubbed?” he slips his fingers down your slit before circling back up to your clit, “is she really sore, honey? 

“So sore,” you mewl, slumping against his chest as he teases across your swollen clit.

It doesn’t take long for his rough fingers to work another orgasm from you, pussy clenching around nothing as your clit throbs underneath his fingertips. 

“So fucking good,” he turns your head to kiss you messily, tongue licking into your mouth as spit drips down your chin.

Leon finishes washing you both off before helping you stand, wrapping a fuzzy towel around you before emptying the bath. Feeling extra sleepy, you don’t put up a fuss as Leon guides you into his room. Helping you slip under his covers, you sigh as Leon’s scent surrounds you. 

“Goodnight,” he kisses the side of your mouth making you turn and pout your lips for a kiss. 

Chuckling, he kisses you gently, running his thumb across one of your ears. 

“Goodnight, Leon,” you smile sleepily, snuggling into his chest. 

[ilovejeongintoo]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕄𝕖

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy Werewolf San x Vampire Reader Warnings: sex p in v, biting/marking, mirror Wordcount: 4480 Not proofread at all

People think San is so cat coded, which I obviously agree to but... I think a big black puppy would suit him just as much. -> Puppy Eyes

Summary: If there was one thing you hated more than the boring lessons, it was the smell of dog. Especially one that seemed way too interested in your business.

The boredom of attending all these lessons without even knowing what you wanted to do afterward was hell. Being surrounded by people you didn’t connect with and studying subjects that should never have been part of the school system in the first place only made it worse.

Everything about this place was torture, but the worst was the smell of wet dog that constantly permeated the air. Those damn werewolves—a bunch of dogs. They didn’t just smell like one but also behaved as such, with loud shouts that resembled barks and hyper energy that no one could handle except themselves.

The only reason you were still attending the academy was because your parents threatened to take away your things if you didn’t go. Each year, you contemplated whether the time you spent here was really worth the mental torture of being a student, especially lately, when the whole situation became even worse in the form of a loud, nosy, and most annoying busybody.

He bothered you to no end. He just would not leave you alone. You hurled the usual insults you’d throw at any one of those dogs at him. You’d blatantly ignore him and move spots any time he approached, but he would just follow behind, babbling about his day to you—like you knew each other, or even worse, were friends.

This all started after you helped him pick up his books when he tripped and fell backward. His books were strewn across the dark marble floor, and you just happened to be passing by. You were in a hurry but still helped him, probably why you didn’t notice the scent of a werewolf that clung to him. If you had, you wouldn’t have helped.

You guessed you were suffering the consequences of your actions. Now he was trailing behind you, going on about his day, what he learned, and what he ate. If he had a tail, you were sure it would be wagging like the happy puppy he was.

The annoyed expression on your face was usually hidden behind a cold stare, but now you didn’t even bother. You wanted him to know how much you disliked his mere presence. You were sure onlookers could see the tick on your forehead; you were going to burst a blood vessel any day now. And to top it off, the last few exams were coming up. Making everything ten times worse and your shitty mood even more noticeable in the form of a constant glare.

Your shoes clicked along the floor until you reached the library and entered. This was the one place he hadn’t managed to find you yet. Not surprising, since there was no way he’d actually attempt to study. You sat down at a table more or less hidden by a few bookshelves. Half an hour into being completely immersed in Vampiric History, someone sat beside you. You thought nothing of it, not even sparing them a glance.

The person didn’t move, which caught your attention. It was almost like they were turned toward you, waiting. Your eyes caught sight of familiar brown ones immediately. An annoyed sigh escaped you, and your eyes returned to your textbook, intent on ignoring the constant presence of Choi San.

That didn’t last long because you could practically feel him staring holes into the side of your head. Aggressively closing your book, you looked at him again. “What?”

He had the same smile as always on his face, dimples forming. He wasn’t the least bothered by your reluctance to interact with him. His grin seemed to grow bigger by the second.

He just shrugged as if he didn’t understand what you were saying, his face resting on one of his hands, propped on the table, close.

“You know exactly what I mean: stop following me, stop talking to me, don’t even appear in the same room as me.” You listed off. He just nodded, not taking you seriously at all, it seemed.

You seriously had enough.

Enough of all of this.

Of him.

You grabbed him, pulled him up, and pushed him against the table, almost making him sit on it. Your hands slid to his shoulders, and you got closer. This was bound to get your point across.

He still had that infuriating grin plastered on his face, standing there amused.

“Will do.” What a fucking lie.

From this close, you could look at him closely, take him in, if you will. The chiseled jaw, the dark brown eyes, smooth skin, and pretty lips. Once you realized what you were doing, you locked your eyes back on his just before letting him go with a push.

You grabbed your book and bag and stormed out of the library, out to get some air, to get away from San.

There was no way you were starting to develop any feelings for the dog. Objectively speaking, he was handsome, attractive, whatever. But that was it. You must just be getting too used to him being around. Even the smell of him—your nose must be muted to the stench by now.

You didn’t even show up to the rest of your classes that day. The next day, however, you weren’t so lucky to avoid the menace. First lesson and you were met with his pretty face again.

“No, wait, truce, okay?” Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I know you told me not to follow. I mean, I did kinda follow you, but just— I wanted to… give you something back.”

His hands fished for something in his pockets, not finding it immediately. He pulled out a bracelet, a familiar one—yours.

You seized it from his grasp right away. Your eyes turned angrier, not believing he would steal something of yours.

He must have read your thoughts because he defended himself very quickly, arms up and all: “No, you left it yesterday in the library.” He continued before you could speak: “I just wanted to return it. I’ll stay away from you.” You could imagine his ears drooping at that.

Okay, you were wrong—just slightly—about San.

Guilt was already starting to form in your gut like you had actually kicked a puppy. That’s what he looked like, like you just told him he couldn’t have his favorite candy. You gnawed at your lip before sighing.

“No, it’s—thanks, I guess, for giving me back my bracelet. This one means a lot to me.” You dragged your eyes over said piece, then back to his form.

“Look, I just don't like werewolves. Not a single one of you. I’m not changing my mind because of this.”

He looked relieved even though you had just told him you didn’t like werewolves.

“Of course.”

You turned away, not willing to look and maybe rethink your decision of having a puppy follow you around all the time. Before you could get too far, you heard him yell.

“You might change your mind!”

You made sure not to look back and give strength to that statement.

The next few days went by quietly. You didn’t see San much, even in your shared classes. He must be doing some wolf thing. Sometimes, you missed it. You kind of realized what a loner you were. You didn’t even talk to any vampire students—not that you genuinely knew any as friends.

The next time you saw San, he only waved at you and walked off in a different direction. That left you frozen to the marble floor.

He just walked away.

No “Hello,” “How are you,” or anything of the sort. It had become such a routine to have San constantly around you that it felt extremely weird now like you lost something.

It was one thing for him not to come to school because of whatever—you could imagine all sorts of reasons. But seeing him walk off without much at all, right in front of you, left you speechless. Your eyes kept searching for him after that, trying to catch a glimpse of the puppy without much luck.

This is what you wanted, exactly what you told him to do. Despite that, you were coming to regret that decision rapidly.

Well, there was only one way to undo it: you had to bury your ugly pride and talk to him. But there was no way you could just do that—just go up to him and tell him you didn’t actually hate him that much? The thought made you shudder. And where would you even do this? Because there was no way you would willingly embarrass yourself in front of the whole student body.

There was only one place you could think of to have this talk: his dorm room. Admittedly, equally embarrassing, but without any eyes on the two of you. All you had to do was sneak into the wolf dormitory, find his room, wait, and then enter. Easy as pie.

You decided to go through with your scheme when he came back from his evening classes. At least you knew when those ended since he never stopped talking about them. (Something about how they make luminescent potions.)

Getting into the dorm was a struggle, involving climbing a window and almost ruining your pristine uniform. The wolf-printed doorstep carpet and the sign plastered with “Choi San” were hard to miss. The number 13 on the dark oak door made it one of the first rooms; you could even see the front desk down the dark hallway. You chose to hide around the next corner so as not to get caught if the resident assistant were to come by, and to avoid awkwardly standing in front of San's door. All of this was so weird—why were you even doing this? You were okay with being alone before, but now, not anymore.

You’d make San pay for giving you a taste of what friends were—after you became friends again, or whatever your relationship could have been considered before. It didn’t take long for the man of the hour to turn up. He was struggling with the key when you sneaked up. Right after he unlocked the troubling door, you pushed him in. Reaching back to snag the key and step in after him like you owned the damn place. 

His eyes were as wide as saucers. Okay, maybe you could have told him you wanted to talk with him privately. Whoops. “What the hell? What are you doing here? I already told you I won’t bother you anymore”

Oh god, you did not know how to start this. It looked like you broke into his room and were about to turn him into a winter coat by the look on his face.

You sighed. 

“I” and stopped. Fuck

“Alright this is going to sound extremely weird” His brows furrowed. “No I-mean not that kind of weird. I just, fuck this is difficult.” You turned around facing the door. You were not going to say this directly to his face. You took another deep breath to think and come up with an actual sentence this time.

“I might have been wrong about you, you’re not as much of a dog as I thought. And I don’t actually hate you,  and I know it sounds stupid coming from me now. But I…I liked the times that you were around, more than I realized.” 

Your eyes were shut tightly as if that would help you gather the strength to say all of this.

“I was hoping that we could start new and be friends?” You rushed to finish. Now you were waiting for him to say now, open that door and walk out.

It was quiet for a moment. Then you felt his hand pull you back until you had to move your legs to face him. Your head was hanging and your eyes were still shut at this point. 

“Hey, look at me.”

You lifted your head slowly and opened your eyes even slower too scared to find out what was going to happen next. Without the protective darkness, your closed lids brought you. Too scared to hear him reject you straight to your face, the irony really.

The only thing that you were met with was San, with a big smile. Just like you knew him. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t hate me, you honestly don’t? At all?” He looked at your eyes moving his head a little to search for any doubt in them.

“Because sure, I might have been a little pushy, maybe a lot. But I thought it wasn’t bad until you said you didn’t want me to hang around you anymore.”

He looked down at your intertwined hands, recalling the memory. 

“I should have stopped when you gave me the stink eye on the first day of talking to you.”

He looked back up, you noticed his flushed cheeks now just slightly pink. His eyes got bigger and his eyebrows raised a bit in an innocent expression. Hair falling slightly into his face. In that moment he undeniably seemed the most like a puppy, any anxiety from your nerves melted away.

Once the expression was one it disappeared just as fast. He leaned a tad a smug kind of smirk formed with those delicate lips.

His hands coming to rest 

“But now, now you’re telling me you essentially miss me?”

“No”

“You do”

“Say it and I’ll become your lapdog again okay? Easy as that” He had a dark look to him, challenging you but waiting expectantly. Like he knew he was right. 

He was.

“I miss it, I miss you San.” It came out more desperate than you wanted it to. You avoided his gaze out of embarrassment. but he kept turning his head to make you meet them again.

You pushed against his chest slightly in an effort to make him halt his movements.

“Alright Stop!”

His hands automatically found themselves on your elbows not letting go and even pulling you closer. When you noticed the little space left between the two of you, you seized your struggle and instead caught mid-breath. From this close, you could feel his breath and see the almost identical fangs to yours poke out.

“If you really want me to stop”

“Tell me you hate me, tell me how you want me to not even breathe the same air as you, just like before.” 

“And mean it” His grip tightened slightly. His eyes not once leaving yours, pupils blown out. There was no way you could do that anymore not with the discovery you had made, about yourself. You liked Choi San, a werewolf, more than you’d like to admit. Somewhere along all the annoying quips of his you grew attached.

You were grounding yourself a little with the grip on his shirt. “I can’t” Your voice came out more confident than it has been all day.

His lips were on yours so fast after. It was better than you could have ever imagined. There was this addicting smell coming off San now, it felt like you were being dragged into him. It made it feel like you weren’t close enough kissing like this. Your clothes were getting too hot, too suffocating. You took his cheeks into your hands and then up into his oreo-colored hair.

The kiss made the hidden feelings burst up like a broken dam. The push and pull between the two of you had strung up so much tension until this moment. To just release the frustration, sheer annoyance, and most surprisingly of all your denied feelings. You pulled him down further, closer. His grip was just as hard on your waist a possessive feeling to it.

The repulsive scent that used to choke you was now mixed with something else, making it so intoxicating, so San. You were pressing closer in hopes of smelling it more, it just seemed to increase the longer you kissed. The closer your bodies pressed against each other in an almost grind.

Your lips disconnected when San pulled back just enough that your foreheads were pressed against one another his warm breath hitting your swollen lips. 

“So you don’t hate me after all?” There was a smirk evident. A teasing lilt to his seductive voice.

“Shut up.” You pull him into you once again by his collar. Your hands roamed the expanse of his chest through his black button-up shirt. For a more deep and heated kiss. His response was his one hand slipping under your shirt, right below your chest.

You know this is reckless, maybe even foolish, probably the most impulsive thing that you’ve ever done. But in the moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences for even a second. Not with him molding so perfectly into you. Your lips detached and you began placing kisses down his pretty neck. You felt a low, almost inaudible growl come from him. It made a pleasant shiver run through your body.

“Careful” He warned, voice deeper and rougher than before, “or I might start thinking you actually like me.” His teasing only made the fire within you burn more, like he was constantly adding gasoline to it. Your fangs lightly grazed the sensitive spot right below his ear, a bolder moan that ended in a low groan escaping him. His nails dig into you a little harder. But it’s not enough. You want him to lose it, to step over that boundary that you still had left, that you could still recover from, and pretend to hate each other again.

There was no way you would let him though. So with more want you dove in interlock your lips once more. Your tongues dragged along in such a sensual motion, it felt so rough and you loved it. His hand that had been buried under your shirt slipped down grazing your waistband. The sensation made another wave of heat course through you, leaving you wetter.

“Tell me to stop,” He murmurs, licking his lips in pause though his actions say the opposite. “Tell me you don’t want this and I will.”

To absolute hell with that. You roughly push him against his couch in answer.

And that's all the encouragement he needs, all hesitation out the window.

He pulls you down into his lap so fast. His hands making quick work of your pants and panties not bothering to unbutton your shirt, he plainly rips it open. A quiet gasp rips through you at the display of strength. He seemed less like a puppy and more like the wolf that you read in books about. Though his hands slow down when they feel the naked skin and his eyes drag along your figure. Like he wants to savor this moment.

Your hands kept tugging at his shirt in question for him to take it off, but he easily complied. Exposing hard taut muscles, smooth skin, and a thin layer of sweat to the desire-filled air around you. You're on him again, planning to get a taste of his skin everywhere. Following his collarbones and down his chest.

Noises leave him every second of the way and his hands move to return the favor. Your body stiffened, the slightest feeling of uncertainty flickering through you in the realization of what you were doing. You’re fighting between the instinct of pushing him away and getting out of here and the unmistakable desire of pulling him closer.

He picked up on it just as fast. A soft and slow hand reaching up towards your face making you meet his eyes. The teasing expression off of his face and replaced with a softer one.

“Hey,” he says low, his tone steady. “We don’t have to do any of this if you’re not sure. I wouldn’t want to if you weren’t.”

But you are sure— in fact you have never been more sure of anything. And maybe that’s what made you hesitate, the realization that this wasn’t going to be just a fleeting lust-filled spur of-the-moment-. It’s something so much deeper, the exact thing you’ve been trying to push to the back of your mind. You’re not sure you can keep denying it so desperately, not with the way he was holding on to you, with the way his eyes focused solely on you.

You shook your head “I want this, I’m sure.” your hand strokes his cheek “I’ve been wanting this for a while.”

This time when the two of you meet it’s more insistent more sure. Clearly over that invisible wall that was holding you back before. His hands cover every inch of your body, pulling your shirt over your head to feel and see your bare.

The next moments were a blur, clothes being thrown off his lips caressing your skin. It’s intoxicating how he moves his hands so smoothly over your skin, how hot just everything is. He’s studying you, memorizing your reactions to hopefully recreate them. Once you're prepped on your hands and knees you register his touches more as they are less rushed and more calculated.

You can feel the warm and big presence of San at your back and you wish you would have looked at what he was hiding under those pants to at least gauge how much you’d be able to take. You weren’t a virgin but you had never been with a werewolf. 

“It’s okay, I’ll make it fit don’t worry” He soothed, and you felt him pour some wet liquid on the curve of your ass and down to your core. You probably didn’t even need all that lube with how wet you felt. You barely responded to San with a whine.

His first finger slipped past your entrance satisfying that burn inside a little. But just after a while when his finger moved back and forth more easily, it burned up more. He entered another finger and shortly after another, they were long but not uncomfortable long and so thick, you felt sufficiently stretched after barely a few minutes.

You could hear San's heavy breathing—he was clearly affected by what he was witnessing. The air was thick with the scent of sex, dirty and potent, mingling with the pervasive smell of sweat. You felt San hover closer to you, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck. He nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake.

He mouthed at your neck more insistently, as if he wanted to bite down but hesitated. Fear held him back—fear of his own wolfish instincts in such a vulnerable moment. He wasn’t ready to face the possibility of you rejecting his mark. If you did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Not when the only mate he wanted was you—a vampire.

“San,” you murmured, reaching behind yourself to thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. You could sense the inner conflict consuming him.

“Don’t stop. I swear to God, if you stop, I will—”

That was all the permission he needed. His final restraint snapped like a thin thread. His fingers withdrew with a wet sound, and you felt him line up his length with your wet cunt before pushing in with one smooth motion. The sensation knocked the wind out of your lungs for a moment. He wasn’t small—not uncomfortably so, but enough to stretch you slightly, making you wiggle to adjust. His hands found your elbows, pulling you back and arching your spine, driving him deeper inside you. As he began thrusting, you couldn’t contain the unholy noises escaping your lips.

He wasn’t holding back at all.

“Oh my God, oh fuck, shit,” you gasped, barely able to keep it together. He felt so right inside you, and the sounds filling the room were nothing short of sinful.

“You’re fucking made for me, wrapping around me so perfectly,” he groaned, pumping harder, going deeper with each thrust. Suddenly, he released your arms, making you fall forward onto your elbows, your head buried in the sofa. One of his hands pressed down on the middle of your back while the other pulled you back onto his length by your ass. It felt like he was reaching up into your stomach.

You turned your head to the side for better air, and your gaze fell upon a mirror reflecting everything happening. The sight of yourself beneath San was as arousing as the act itself. Your hair was a mess, cheeks flushed as if with fever, and both your bodies shone with sweat. You gulped as you watched a drop of sweat slide down his face, hanging briefly at the peak of his chin before falling away. His eyes were locked onto your ass as he ran a hand through his hair for a better view.

San noticed your gaze fixed on the mirror and grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep watching. “See how pretty you are? Now I get to enjoy all of it—just me.” He made sure you wouldn’t look away, his eyes now locked onto yours. He kissed up your neck sensually, never ceasing his thrusts.

One of his hands moved down your stomach, pressing slightly above your pelvis, as if he could feel himself inside you. Your moans grew louder by the second, and San’s brows furrowed in pleasure. His hand moved further down, connecting with your clit and rubbing in slow circles. The stimulation was just enough to tip you over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut, your legs reflexively clamping around his fingers.

That’s when San took the opportunity to bite down on your neck, his canine teeth sinking into your nape. You shook with overstimulation, the world around you completely blocked out. The roughness of the sofa and the stickiness of your bodies faded into the background. It felt like an electric current was rushing through you. San trembled for a moment, pressing deeply into you one last time before he came, gripping your ass with small thrusts to ride out his high.

It felt like only seconds had passed when San began soothing the small mark with gentle licks. He massaged your hips, anticipating the soreness you’d feel later. When his licks turned into soft pecks, you reached back again, searching for him. Your hand found his hair, smoothing over the damp strands.

“You okay, little doggie?” you asked, pushing the top of his head against your cheek, treating him like your pup. You liked how close the two of you still were, slipping back into teasing now that the intensity had faded.

Your question made him chuckle, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “I just fucked you into another universe, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

He rubbed against you slightly.

“Next time, I’ll really make you rethink keeping me because—” he shifted to whisper directly into your ear—“I’ll fuck you on my knot, pretty girl.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Rainbow Bridge

Summary: The reader is incredibly confused when in heaven one day, a dog she's never met before appears by her side...

Pairing: Dean x reader (in heaven)

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of pet death/human death

A/N: I wrote this for my fellow pet owners (and myself). Hopefully those little dudes over the rainbow bridge have their own kinds of adventures like these pups while they wait! (and all the chicken nuggies they can eat 😉)

_______

The air shifted, a warm and joyful presence filling the air. You glanced down in your kitchen, an adorable dog with long fur and pointy ears staring up at you with a wagging tail.

“Well good morning to you, cutie,” you laughed, bending down in your pajamas with your cup of coffee, giving the dog a few pets. “Who might you be?”

The dog woofed and the thought Miracle sprang into your head. That wasn’t entirely uncommon. Animals in the afterlife were able to communicate a bit better than they had when you were alive. 

One of your own dogs you’d had when you were alive, your first dog ever, bounded upstairs from the playroom on the lower level that was for them to use as a way station. Sometimes they liked to stick around home, sometimes by your side and others they’d go off and visit their own animal friends they’d made. But generally they kept to themselves first thing in the day.

“This a friend of yours, baby?” you asked your little dog. He ran over to Miracle, sniffing intensely before he snorted. “No huh. Did you just die, Miracle? I know sometimes dogs are a little confused when they get here and you got your young, healthy bodies back.”

Miracle woofed with a slight head shake, your lips pursing. Your own dog pawed at you, resting a little foot on your arm. You hummed at him, the little guy sending you some positive feelings, sensing you were worried.

“Alright. I’ve never heard of a random dog appearing in heaven unless you request one. You show Miracle around the house and where he can do his business while I get ready. Then we’ll try to figure out who your owner is, okay?” Both dogs yelped happily and took off downstairs, a loud crash at the bottom as they slammed into your boot tray. “Careful! Just cause you can’t get hurt doesn’t mean you can be reckless!”

More than one dog barked back in response and you rolled your eyes, heading for your bedroom.

“At least I don’t have to pay vet bills for you guys anymore. Five dogs is only kind of a lot for one eternity.” You heard more barking and groaned. “I wasn’t complaining you mongrels! I was quite pleased to see your little faces when I died. I could have done with a little less face licking though.”

You swore you could hear the faint echo of laughter in their barks as you got ready for the day.

“If I’m not back by supper make sure you boys get some dinner,” you called, heading outside with Miracle. You loaded into your car and headed down the road, thinking you had a problem. Soon you were taking an off ramp you’d not seen before. You wound up in a mostly empty parking lot, Miracle following you out and into the lone building around.

“Take an issue form and fill out everything before returning it to the counter,” grumbled the guy behind the desk, shoving a clipboard towards you. You stepped through the empty waiting room, picking up the board. You opened your mouth to speak when he sighed. “The form is a requirement by the big man. I’m just doing my job.”

“How do you have a job which is arguably the equivalent of working at the DMV, but in heaven? Like, we don’t have jobs.” He flickered his eyes up at you, making you jump back when they flashed black. 

“Demon, sweetie. It’s part of my rehab program so I can someday be like you. By then, some other schmuck in the program will have my job. No more questions.” 

“Okay…” you said, grabbing a pen and taking a seat, Miracle laying down on the floor beside you. You stared at the form, frowning when you didn’t see your particular issue listed.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Demon,” you said, approaching the counter again, the guy rolling his eyes at you. “My problem doesn’t appear on the form?”

“That’s impossible. Those are the only issues possible of occurring in heaven.” You pointed at Miracle beside you, the guy standing to look down at him.

“I have no clue who this dog is and it’s not my dog’s friend. He just appeared next to me in my kitchen this morning,” you said. The demon stared at you, rubbing his temples. 

“Remember your steps, remember your steps,” he muttered to himself before forcing a smile. “Listen. Dogs don’t get lost in heaven. Either you know his owner-”

“Nope. My dogs don’t recognize him.”

“Fine,” gritted out the demon. “Then you and the owner of this dog are soulmates in some way.”

You blinked at him, the man angrily typing on his keyboard. 

“This dog belongs to a man named Dean Winchester. You and Dean Winchester were alive, somewhat, during the same time. He died a lot younger than you did. You two are…romantic soulmates,” he said, a fax machine going in the back. He got up and ripped off a sheet of paper, handing it to you. “Here’s his address. Now please go bother him instead of me.”

You rolled your eyes, ready to leave when you stopped, glancing down at Miracle. “Do you like, want to pet the dog?”

“Excuse me?” You turned around, the demon still on his feet.

“Well I mean, it’s probably been awhile since you’ve seen a dog or gotten to pet one. You can’t be that horrible if they’re letting you up here with the rest of us. So do you want to pet him?”

It was shocking how quickly the demon hopped over the counter and knelt down next to the dog, giving him a few pats and then a belly rub.

“I had a dog when I was a kid. I can’t wait to see her again once I get out of here,” he said, glancing up at you, seeming to forget he was a demon for a moment. “That was weird.”

“Dogs are kinda perpetually happy here and give off good energy. I’m sure your dog is looking forward to seeing you too,” you said as Miracle sat up and headed for the door. “Apparently I’m on the move. See ya around someday.”

“Yeah. Someday,” he said as you left. Five seconds later, now that you knew where you were going, you popped yourself over to this Dean Winchester’s place. You were standing outside a beautiful two story cabin on a lake, Miracle taking off in a sprint down a dock to where someone was sitting in a chair fishing. 

Your heart felt funny as the man on the dock stood and turned around, cocking his head at you. He gave Miracle a good ruffle before he approached, meeting you halfway across his backyard.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “I uh-”

You both jumped when your five dogs appeared, running and chasing around a ball in the yard, Miracle joining in after them.

“Your dog popped into my kitchen this morning. I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates. At least that’s what this paper says,” you said, the pack of dogs sprinting around the corner of the house. “I’ve had a few pups in my life.”

“Miracle could do with some siblings,” he said, smirking as you felt a cozy peace inside you. “I was wondering where he ran off to. He normally doesn’t stray far from home. Looks like he was off finding his mom.”

“I thought soulmates were supposed to like…snap together when they’re both in heaven,” you said. He smirked, pursing his lips. “What?”

“I probably wasn’t in heaven when you died. I was jumping around alternate worlds and you look very confused all of a sudden.” You nodded, staring at him wide eyed. “I’m a smidge of a rule breaker…and I kinda know Jack…and took down the old god.”

Your first instinct was to call him crazy but he had no reason to lie. Besides, something ached in his soul, like it had a little bruise on it. This man had known serious pain and then some when he was alive.

“You know, I killed vampires when I was alive. What’s something you did for fun?” he asked. Your jaw dropped, Dean chuckling. “Oh boy. Sweetheart, you and I have some catching up to do.”

“Hi baby,” you said that night as you and Dean laid on a blanket in the yard, your little guy crawling up on the blanket and settling in beside Dean. “Aw, he likes you.”

“He’s protective of you. I can feel it,” he said with a hum. “He hung out with your grandparents a lot after he died. Apparently while you were crying over him on earth, he was chowing down on some of your grandpa’s maple syrup bacon thinking mom’s being overdramatic, I’m gonna see her again. She worries too much.”

You sat up, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that? My grandparents told me they were with him until my parents got here and he stayed with them a while but dogs can’t talk to us like that here. We can sense them and stuff but we can’t know complete thoughts.”

Dean smiled, scratching behind the dogs ears. 

“Well, I’m a little special. I worked a case where I could communicate with dogs once. It came back up here. This little guy adores the fuck out of you and wishes you hadn’t been so sad back then but he understands. He is pretty awesome,” laughed Dean. 

“And he’s a little shit,” you giggled. “What else does he say?”

“He’s glad you got more dogs over your life and he’s glad you found me finally. Also if we don’t stop talking soon he’s going to go inside and sleep on our bed,” chuckled Dean. “Cranky baby, aren’t you?”

The dog snorted, stood up, licked your nose and trotted off inside with his chin turned up.

“Like I said, he’s a sassy little shit,” you chuckled, Dean pulling you closer. “So Dean. What do you got planned for the afterlife?”

“A bit of fishing here and there. Working on my car. Going out for a drink at the roadhouse. Hanging with my brother. Sneak out of heaven to get up to shit every once in a while, hopefully with you. How’s that sound?” he asked. You leaned over and kissed him slowly, rolling back with a smile. 

“Sounds like a plan, Winchester. Time to start having some fun in eternity.”

___________

[callsign-dexter]

Family Under Fire

Request: Tim’s daughter works a part time job (yknow like to earn a little extra money while in high school) and while she’s working one day someone attempts to rob the place…And Tim and Lucy are the closest to the robbery and Tim recognises the name of the shop way too quickly

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, cussing, inaccurate police talk, inaccurate hospital talk, robbery, guns, blood, caring Tim Bradford, Dad!Tim Bradford

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you @justabigassnerd for requesting it and also this is payback for sending angst TikTok videos.

Summer. You always liked summer but it could become unbearable in Los Angeles but it was 2 months away from school work, which you did not miss. You 18 which meant that you were in the last of high school and you couldn’t be more excited. Sure, you loved seeing your friends and most teachers but you could care less for the cliques, bullies, jocks, etc.  During the summer you had gotten a part time job at Cozy Corner Café, a cute little place for people to hang out, meet up with friends, do school work, eat, and drink. Everyone there was so nice and it was refreshing. It was a fairly big café and it did really well so well it became popular fast. The café also was a 24-hour café which meant that sometimes you worked well into the night, that part sucked but it paid well and you loved it so you stuck with it. You had your driver’s license which helped with giving you freedom during the summer. You drove a Ford Bronco but recently it was acting up and when you told your father, Tim Bradford, about it the night before he said to bring it down to the station and he would trade vehicles out with you and he would get it looked at either have the mechanics at work look at it or take it down to a mechanic shop after work and get a ride from someone. 

Monday morning rolled around and your alarm clock started to go off abruptly waking you up with a groan. You opened your eyes and turned it off and looked at the time which was 7:00 AM. It was the first official day of summer break and the first day of work for you. You sighed and rolled out of bed and walked into the bathroom while grabbing a towel from the hall closest, you needed a shower before you switched cars with your dad and headed off to work. You turned on the shower and got it to the right temperature before shedding your clothes and hopping into the warm water. The water cascaded over you, you quickly did what you needed and then turned off the shower and grabbed your towel drying off and then started to get dressed in jeans and your work shirt. You then brushed your teeth and brushed your hair leaving it to air dry. Once you were done there you grabbed your phone and shut the lights off and walked downstairs to drop your dirty clothes and towel in the washer. Kojo happily greeted you and you smiled petting the dog “Hey there boy. Are you gonna be good while we are gone?” You asked, smiling and not expecting a response but he barked and wagged his tail. “You’re always a good boy, aren’t you?” You asked and he barked and put a paw on your hand making you chuckle. You filled his food bowl and water bowl and then grabbed your backpack and keys. “I gotta get going. Be a good boy.” You said he barked again and then you were heading out of the house and to your Ford Bronco. You got in and put the key into the ignition and turned it “Come on please don’t do this now.” You said as it sputtered for a few seconds before turning over. “Thank you.” You said and then reversed and headed to the station. It didn’t take long before you got there and parked beside your dad’s truck and as soon as you did it died. “Right on time.” You said and got out grabbing your things and throwing on the jacket you would have throughout the night. You walked into the station and literally ran into Wesley Evers, aka your Godfather. “Oof.” You said stumbling back.

“Woah, are you ok?” He asked catching you before you fell backwards.

“I’m good. I promise.” You said looking up at him and then going to hug him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be getting to work?” He asked and you nodded as you pulled away from him. He knew you started work today because you had excitedly texted him and Angela about it.

“Yes, I left the house a little bit early to drop The Bronco off.” You said

“Is it acting up again?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes unfortunately.” You replied

“Why don’t you trade it in and get a different vehicle?” He asked

“It’s my baby, I can’t just get rid of her.” You said and he shook his head.

“I get it. I get it.” He said smiling.

“Dad is letting me take his truck while he figures out what is going on with it.” You said and he nodded. “You know where he is so I don’t have to do a scavenger hunt for him?” You asked, chuckling and so did Wesely.

“Last I checked everyone was in the briefing room.” He said and you nodded.

“Hey, you should stop by later.” You said and he smiled.

“I will make sure to do that. I have to go but I will see you later Y/N.” He said and he hugged you again and kissed your head. 

“Sounds good. Bye Wesely.” You said and he smiled and then you both started to walk your separate ways. You nodded and smiled at the front desk and they smiled back, everyone knew who you were so you got a free pass. You got on the elevator and pressed the button and when it dinged signaling that you were on your floor you got out and instantly spotted everyone in the briefing room it looked like they had just finished as you walked onto the floor. Angela was the first one to spot you and she smiled, which was rare for her, and nudged Tim who looked your way and smiled, something rare that only few people have seen. They both walked out. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Angela asked walking up to you with Tim.

“I’m dropping The Bronco off for dad to get looked at and getting the keys to his truck.” You said and she smiled as you handed Tim your keys.

“Right, I’ll be right back. Let me go and get the keys.” He said and you nodded.

“Why don’t you trade it in and get a different vehicle?” She asked and you laughed.

“That is the same thing your husband said. I’ll tell you what I told him. It’s my baby, I can’t just get rid of her.” You said and she chuckled.

“I remember my first car. I had it until he upped and died on me on the interstate. Had to let it go then. It was truly a sad day.” She said

“Dad got me The Bronco when I got my permit when I was 15 ½. I learned everything in that car. I can’t let her go.” You said 

“When do you start work?” She asked

“8. I left the house early to switch out vehicles with dad.” You said as Tim walked back up and held out the keys to you.

“Be careful and remember it is very sensitive with the gas and breaks.” He said and you nodded.

“I remember. Oh, and the engine died as soon as I parked it.” You said and he nodded.

“I’ll get Seth to look at it while we are gone.” He said 

“Thank you.” You said and he smiled and hugged.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later. Call or text if something doesn’t sit right with you.” He said and you nodded.

“I will.” You said as Lucy came up. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked with a smile.

“My car started to act up and dad said he would get it checked out so I’m switching vehicles with him.” You said and looked down at your watch and saw it was 7:20 AM. “I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later. I love you dad.” You said and he smiled.

“I love you too.” He said and hugged you and kissed your head and then you were heading to the elevators. When you got down to the main level you waved at the front desk and walked out of the building to your dad’s truck. You got in and put your stuff in the passenger side seat and turned the ignition. You reversed and headed to the café ready to start your long shift for the day/part of the night. When you reached the café, you parked in the back where the employees parked and killed the engine. As you were getting out, leaving your bag in the truck, your friend and coworker, Valencia, got out of her car as well.

“You’re in a different vehicle.” She said and you chuckled and smiled.

“Yea, The Bronco was acting up.” You said as you locked the truck and the both of you headed into the back.

“Oh man you love that thing.” She said and you nodded.

“I do and I’ll be heartbroken when it has to go.” You said as the both of you began putting your stuff in the lockers. “Damn, I left my bag in the truck. I’ll just get it later.” You said as Mark walked in overhearing the conversation.

“You sure? We still have some time before we start.” Mark said, your other friend said.

“Yea, I’m sure. I’ll get it on break.” You confirmed and they both nodded and the three of you clocked in and walked to the front and the shift began. The beginning of the shift nothing exciting happened and not a lot of people came in. Some college students came in to grab coffee and maybe something to eat and then they were on their way to class and then the customers died down. You spent the down time by cleaning up and making sure everything was stocked and swept while Remi, Amelia, and Carlyn came and greeted you three, they were also your friends.

“So, you have any plans for the days you’re not working?” Valencia asked and you shrugged as you wiped down the counter as she tended to the cash register along with Amelia.

“No, not really. Might take Kojo out for a run one day and work on some college applications.” You said shrugging.

“Are you really serious about getting into the police academy?” Remi asked as he restocked the higher up things.

“I am. My dad went through it and I love helping people so why not? It runs in our family.” You said not bothering to say anything about your mom since she wasn’t in your life for most of it.

“That would be so cool when you get in and graduate. You’re badass now but you’ll be even more badass.” Mark said, leaning against the counter. You rolled your eyes and smiled and then playfully shoved him off of it.

“Hey I just cleaned there.” You said and wiped the counter down again.

“He’s right, you know. Y/N Bradford certified Badass.” Amelia said and you rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

“It is only the truth.” Carlyn said and everyone nodded and you blushed but smiled.

“Stop you guys.” You said as the door chimed and a flood of people came in and when you looked down at your watch you knew why, it was already noon and this was the lunch rush. Mark, Remi, and Valencia took to the cash registers and getting the food and you, Amelia, and Carlyn started to make the coffee and whatever drinks were ordered, you took this role because you were fast at it and everyone agreed. You three really worked in harmony and got people out quickly. Your boss said when you six were out of school and either going to college and needed work or just needed work in the summer you all had a job, you six were that good. Mark, Remi and Valencia were fast at making coffee too but you and Amelia were a tad faster but they could get the job done just as well and it tasted just as good. You had finished serving the last customer and they were out the door when you sighed in relief. “What a rush.” You said and the other two nodded.

“You got that right.” Mark said turning to you as did Valencia and now it was time to wait. While you waited you wiped down the equipment and cleaned it with the help from Mark. “What time is it?” He asked and you looked down at your watch.

“It is 2:00.” You said 

“Damn time flies by when you’re having fun.” Valencia said and everyone chuckled. As the afternoon went on you served customers and talked. Around 5:00 PM the college crowd started to come in. Mark took the coffee making and you took one of the registers. You were taking orders when a familiar face popped and you smiled.

“Wesley! You came!” You exclaimed and he smiled and nodded.

“I sure did. This is actually one of my favorite spots to hang out and get coffee. I got excited when I knew you were starting to work here.” He said and the two of you talked and he gave you his order and he got it and went to sit down. 

“Y/N take your break.” Mark said and you nodded and clocked out for your 15-minute break. Just as soon as your boss Jason Alderman walked in.

“Taking your break?” He asked and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes, Sir.” You said

“Good. Can’t have one of my best baristas breaking down on me.” He said and then walked to the front as you did and Mark handed you your favorite drink and food.

“You know me so well.” You said and he smiled.

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend.” He said and you rolled your eyes and went and sat down with Wesley while you texted your dad.

You: Hey, I’m on break and Wesley was here as well. 

Tim: You two have fun. I love you 

You: I love you too. 

“So, how have things been with you?” You asked as you took a sip of coffee and looked up at Wesely.

“I’ve been good. A lot of cases have been happening.” He said

“How are you and Angela?” You asked 

“Good. We’re good. Actually, we are trying for a baby.” He said and your eyes got wide.

“Seriously? That is amazing. I can already see a mini-Angela and Wesley running around.” You said and he chuckled.

“Yea, we are pretty excited about it too.” Wesley said 

“Sir, I can’t do that.” You heard Amelia say which made you and Wesley look up and him over to the counter and the both of you froze. The man was tall and slim, he had light brown hair and from the looks of it brown eyes. You got up and made your way to the counter to protect your friend and coworker kicking in. 

“Y/N no.” Wesley said but you ignored him.

“Is there a problem, Sir?” You asked

“Yes, there is, this little bitch won’t give me the money.” He said

“Sir, she cannot do that.” You said voice going into a commanding tone.

“I tried being nice but you made me do this.” He said and pulled out a gun and everything stopped.

“Give me the money now.” He growled out. Jason was quick to come out of the back.

“She is not going to do that.” He said and got in front of him and Amelia. As someone called 911.

“Fine.” He said and turned the gun on you and pulled the trigger. White hot pain is all you felt and then you were falling to your knees as someone was catching you and calling your name.

“Y/N!” Wesley said as he caught you and gently laid you down head in his lap as he applied pressure to the wound. It made you cry out. “It’s ok. I got you. Your dad is on the way.” He said.

“It hurts.” You said tears escaping your eyes.

“I know it does. Just hang on for me. Ok?” He asked and you nodded. There was commotion and Mark and Remi had tackled the man but not before more gunshots went off but thankfully nobody else was hurt as bad as you. They may have some scratches from glass and graze wounds but that is about it. 

“Ok.” You said through gritted teeth. You just wanted your dad.

-----------------------------------------‐-------------

After you had left the station everyone else had gone and got ready and they started to do the same and as they were at war bag station and they grabbed their cameras Tim turned to Lucy “Get the shop ready. I need to go down to the garage.” He said and she nodded.

“You got it.” She said as she grabbed the bags as Tim made his way down to the garage and straight to Seth, the main mechanic, to ask for him look at your Bronco and they agreed, he knew that Grey would allow it since Tim was a sergeant too, before they even left, they were already giving him an update. 

“So, the engine blew up and the transmission is bad as well.” Seth said.

“How is it possible that it was running fine for months?” He asked as they stood outside by your Bronco and hood up.

“Driving on a blown engine and a bad transmission is possible. Is it good? No.” Seth said

“It never showed any signs of going out or being a bad transmission.” He said and Seth nodded 

“That is not out of the norm. Most people don’t know about it until something happens. Has the light ever come on?” He asked 

“No never.” Tim said and Seth nodded.

“There could be a loose wire or connection. Don’t worry. We will get it up and working. It’ll be good to go by the end of your shift.” Seth said

“Thank you so much.” Tim said and gave him the keys.

“Not a problem. Have a good shift.” Seth said and Tim nodded and he was on his way to Lucy.

“So, what is the news?” She asked

“Blown engine and a bad transmission.” He said

“Oh man. That’s not good.” She said and he shook his head.

“What is even worse is that it didn’t even give warning that it was blown or had a bad transmission. No light ever came on.” He said

“Damn.” She said as they got in the shop and they started their shift. “So, are you going to have to take it somewhere to get fixed?” She asked and he shook his head.

“No, Seth said they would get it fixed by the end of our shift.” Tim said 

“Well, that’s good.” She said and he nodded. Their shift consisted of several noise complaints and several arrests. He drove by Cozy Corner Café and smiled seeing all the cars there and knew you were busy and thankfully Lucy didn’t pick up on what he was doing.

Around 5:00 PM Tim and Lucy were driving back from the station after having just booked someone when he got a text from you. He quickly pulled out his phone before starting to drive.

You: Hey, I’m on break and Wesley was here as well. 

Tim: You two have fun. I love you 

You: I love you too. 

As they got back out on the road the radio went off “7-Adam-100 respond to a 10-66 at Cozy Corner Café. One GSW reported. Multiple injuries. RA requested.” Dispatch sounded and Tim’s heart dropped and he had gone somewhat pale. He was quick to grab the radio.

“7-Adam-100 responding.” He said before Lucy could even make a move towards the radio. He turned on the lights and sped off towards where you worked.

“10--66 is an armed robbery. Tim, what is going on?” Lucy asked

“Y/N works there.” Is all he said and Lucy got a sinking feeling that something wasn’t right. 

“7-Adam-07 responding.” Angela came over the radio.

“7-Adam-19 also responding.” Harper’s voice came through and Tim was grateful for that.

Tim and Lucy were the first to get there and parked in a hurry and they quickly got their guns drawn and went in. “We have him held down over there.” Jason said and pointed to where Mark and Remi were keeping him at bay.

“Officer Chen, you go and take care of him. Where is the gunshot-” Time started but was cut off by Wesley.

“Tim over here. It’s Y/N.” He said and Tim was over there in a hurry. 

“Holy shit.” He murmured. “Y/N, Sweetheart, can you hear me? If you can hear me, open your eyes.” He said and so you did. 

“Daddy?” You asked, he nodded.

“I’m here, what happened?” He asked kneeling beside you not caring if he was getting blood on his uniform.

“He came in demanding money and A-Ameila said we couldn’t give it to him and I got up and went over to him, asked him what he wanted and he repeated himself and I told him that. He got mad then pulled out a gun and and pointed it at me and pulled the trigger. I was just trying to protect my friend, I’m sorry. It hurts, Daddy.” You said and and he put a hand on your face and you leaned into it.

“I’m not mad at you I promise, mad at him yes. I know it hurts, Sweetheart.” He said “Just hold on.” He said as the others arrived and Angela came straight over to you, Tim, and Wesley. 

“Fuck. Is she ok?” She asked 

“I think she will be.” Wesley said

“Are you hurt?” Tim asked and he shook his head.

“No. I’m fine. She didn’t hit anything as she went down. I caught her.” He said Jackson came over.

“Suspect is secured and the RA should be here any second.” He said and then walked away to help Nolan and Lucy and Tim nodded as he helped put pressure on your wound and you groaned in pain.

“RA is coming through.” Harper said. Lucy, Jackson and Nolan were checking in on everyone else and getting statements. The EMTs came through and quickly started to take your vitals and pack the wound as best as they could and then they were putting you on a gurney and ushering you out of the building. 

“I’m going with her.” Tim said and body stopped him. They got you in and he followed and they were off to the hospital. His hand never left yours and it would stay like that as long as they didn’t need it and thankfully, they didn’t. Everything was blocked out for Tim all he could hear was the rhythmic sound of your heartbeat and your unconscious form, when you passed out, he didn’t even know. He couldn’t lose you not now, not ever. Finally, the ambulance arrived at the hospital and you were ushered in and taken to surgery immediately and left Tim out in the waiting room. Not even 10 minutes later here came Jackson, Angela, Nolan, Harper, Lucy, Wesley, and even Grey. They spotted him immediately.

“How is she?” Nolan asked 

“Don’t know yet. They rushed her back to surgery. Wesely, I have to thank you for being there and keeping pressure on her wound.” Tim said, looking at Wesley at the end.

“She asked me to stop by and I’m glad I did. I hope she’s going to be ok.” He spoke

“She will be. Have you not seen who her dad is? Also, she is a Bradford.” Angela said and everyone chuckled and Tim smiled. Finally, the doctor came out and Tim was quick to get up and walk to him. 

“She is going to be ok. The bullet didn’t do major damage but just one more centimeter and it would’ve hit her kidney. All intestines were spared. We repaired everything and got the bullet out and I’m happy to say she’ll make a full recovery.” He said and Tim sighed in relief “You can see her now. She may be a little groggy but that is to be expected.” He said and Tim nodded. 

“Give me a second.” Tim said and the doctor nodded. Tim walked over and told them what he was told and everyone sighed in relief.

“You go and be with your daughter. Someone will bring your bag by and your truck from the café. I’ll let the garage know that you won’t be picking up The Bronco tonight.” Grey said and Tim nodded.

“Thank you.” He said

“Now go. Tell her we say hi, we love her and are proud of her.” Wesley said everyone nodded in agreement and he nodded and headed in the direction of the doctor who took him to your room. 

“Remember she will be groggy and may be in some pain. If you need anything or if something goes wrong just press the button.” He said and Tim once again nodded and then was left with you. He walked over and sat down. You must’ve sensed that he was there because you started to wake up.

“Daddy?” You asked and looked over at him.

“I’m here, Sweetheart.” He said

“I’m sorry.” You said and he looked at you confused.

“For what?” He asked

“For trying to stop the robbery.” You said

“Sweetheart, it is ok. You did stop it. Even though you got shot it gave Mark and Remi enough time to tackle him.” He said

“I did good?” You asked and he nodded.

“You did excellent. I’m so proud of you.” He said and leaned up and kissed your forehead. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the anesthesia left in your body.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. Oh, and everybody says hi and that they love you and are so proud of you.” He said and you nodded with a smile as you closed your eyes and got comfortable.

“I love you, Dad.” You said and he smiled and cradled your face with one hand and you leaned into it.

“I love you too, Sweetheart. Get some sleep.” He repeated the last part and he waited until your breath evened out before taking his hand away slowly and leaned up and kissed your forehead. He sat back down and let the tears fall. He could’ve lost you today but he didn’t and he was so glad about that. He doesn’t know what would’ve happened if he had lost you but he doesn’t have to think about that because he could hear your steady heartbeat projected by the monitor and he could see your chest rising and falling. He held your hand and stroked your knuckles. “You did excellent, Sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He said again but softly and quietly and then sat back just watching. You were going to be ok.

Tag list:

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[saistappen]

Dog park | CS55

In which Carlos and you meet again at the dog park and he asks you out on a date

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The weather was almost miraculous. It had been raining heavy for the last few days, so there hadn't been a single minute when you could leave the house without an umbrella.

But now all the dark clouds had disappeared, leaving the bright blue sky free and even the sun finally said hello again after its days-long break.

The sun's rays shining through your living room window and literally tickling the tip of your nose caused your mood to suddenly change by one hundred and eighty degrees.

You actually liked the rainy weather. Especially in autumn, when the leaves turned red and gold, covered the ground in a colorful carpet and it was slowly becoming time for hoodie weather again and you could get the coziest blanket out of the closet and snuggle up on the sofa.

But the days of rain, as it had been for the last week and a half, had been so bad for your mood that when your alarm clock woke you up in the morning and you heard the rain pattering on the roof, you would have liked to pull the covers over your head and just go back to sleep.

Now, however, the sun's rays were more or less giving you a boost of energy, which had been woefully lacking for the last week and a half.

Your golden retriever lady, who was lying in her basket in front of the window, also felt the sun's rays on her golden fur, so she lifted her head and looked at you curiously.

"How about we go for a walk in your favorite park, Laika? " You approached the dog directly as you kicked the laundry basket in front of you on the carpet.

There was a huge pile of laundry in the basket, waiting to be folded. However, you could leave the laundry lying around for a few more hours. After all, who knew how long the sun would stay?

Tail wagging, the dog rose from her basket and stretched once before running out of the living room.

You looked after the dog with a furrowed brow. It was not uncommon for Laika to leave her basket in the living room and go back upstairs to her bedroom, where she also had a basket so that she didn't have to sleep alone downstairs in the living room at night.

Before you ran after your dog, you switched off the TV, which was showing the last few minutes of an episode of Hawaii 5-0.

Watching TV while folding laundry had recently become your ritual, so that the annoying folding of the laundry went even faster than in silence.

"Laika?" You shouted as you left the living room and your feet carried you towards the hallway where the wooden staircase led upstairs.

The golden retriever lady was already at the front door with her collar and lead in her mouth. And when she spotted you, she started to turn in circles, wagging her tail.

Laika always did this when she was excited or looking forward to something.

"I see you're ready, huh? " Smiling, you ran your hand through the dog's thick fur before taking off her harness and lead and getting Laika ready for her walk.

A short time later, after you had slipped into a thin jacket and your shoes yourself, you left the house in the direction of the dog park.

The park wasn't too far from your house. The dog park offered a huge green area where the dogs could let off steam with each other or where you could take your dog for agility - the dog sport where you could work the dogs out with various obstacles.

As the dog started to realize where she was actually going with every step you took closer to the dog park, she began to wag her tail excitedly and pull slightly on the lead.

Laika loved going to the dog park, spending time with other dogs and getting a good workout.

You usually spent countless hours in the park, so every now and then you had a book with you and the dog lady would stretch her legs while you sat on a bench and read.

"Take it easy," you chuckled as Laika began to bark excitedly while you pushed open the gate that separated the dog park from the road.

From a distance, you could see countless dogs and their owners either playing with their dogs or chatting in groups.

You already knew one or two of them from your many visits. Among them was the Spaniard, Carlos, with whom you had already had countless conversations.

Laika in particular had fallen in love with Carlos' male dog Piñón, so that even now, when she spotted him, she started barking happily and looked up at you impatiently.

"Take it easy. You can go straight to your lover," you smiled as you let the gate fall into the lock behind you and then released the lead from the harness.

Within seconds, Lakai sprinted off and seemed to know exactly where Piñón was. It wasn't long before she spotted the male dog among all the other dogs and the two greeted each other.

"Hey y/n! " the Spaniard shouted from a bench as he raised his hand and began to wave almost frantically and the smile on his lips almost doubled in size.

A slight tingling sensation formed in your stomach as you walked along the narrow gravel path over to Carlos.

While all the other owners stood together in small groups and mostly talked about the training of their dogs or even bragged about the tricks their dogs could do, you and Carlos always kept to the background.

And so it was that the Spaniard joined you on his and Piñón's first visit to the dog park and you talked about everything except training your dogs.

Because it was really annoying to listen to strangers bouncing around with their dogs and always trying to give you tips and tricks on how to train your dog even better. And most of the time you were accused of training your dog wrong.

"Hey you," you smiled as you came to a halt in front of Carlos and the bench.

Without hesitation, the Spaniard stood up and pulled you into a warm hug to greet you.

" You must have been waiting for better weather too, huh? " he grinned after he had hugged you briefly and then let you go again.

"Yes, Laika stood outside the door whimpering almost every evening while she watched the rain..."

The Spaniard nodded sympathetically as you sat down next to each other on the bench and your eyes scanned the park for Laika and Piñón.

The two of them chased each other playfully across the green space, with one or two dogs joining in and playing together.

It was nice to see how carefree and happy your dog was finally able to play again after the prolonged rain meant she could only just get out for a walk.

"I can totally understand that! Piñón felt the same way. He didn't understand why it had been pouring like that the whole time. "

"Laika didn't either. She missed Piñón incredibly too," you smiled as you looked over at the Spaniard, whose brown eyes were on you.

Even when you first met here in the park, you had clearly sensed that there was something between you. A certain tension that made your heart beat a little faster every time you were near Carlos and caused a slight tingling sensation in your stomach.

"And what about Laika's Mistress? ", the Spaniard raked, while his knee began to touch yours lightly and a slight electric shock was instantly sent through your body.

Reflexively, your teeth dug into your lower lip as your hands began to play with the light blue leash.

The last time you had flirted was in high school, if you could even call it flirting. Because you'd never been really good at flirting, so now you didn't really know what the perfect answer to his question was.

"Me? I missed Piñón too," you giggled, even though you knew full well that the Spaniard wanted to know if you had missed him.

Because you had. During the countless rainy days, you had always found yourself thinking about Carlos and wondering what the Spaniard was doing and whether he was even thinking about you.

You raised your eyes cautiously and looked straight into Carlos' brown eyes. There was an amused smirk on his lips, while his eyes - like every time he looked at you - radiated warmth.

You had often observed Carlos in the presence of other women who were here at the dog park and had sought a conversation with Carlos.

He had had a conversation with each of them without turning them down, as it was out of the question for him to tell them directly that he wasn't interested.

Even their flirtatious looks and words left Carlos cold, as he only had eyes for you.

You were the only one in the park that he looked at so specially and with so much warmth in his eyes. And above all, you were the only one he actively sought to be close to.

You were special to him. You could sense that. And Carlos also sensed that he was special to you.

But neither of you had made the first move yet.

"You know very well that wasn't my question," he almost breathed, causing goose bumps to spread across the back of your neck.

It was really crazy what the words or closeness of another person could do to your own feelings or physical reactions.

As if your body and its own feelings were slipping away from you and pressing into the other's hands and entrusting them unconditionally.

"I-I... I missed you," you said, almost whispering, while you could clearly hear your voice beginning to tremble.

The heat rose in your cheeks within a few seconds, making you feel like you had a fever, your cheeks felt so hot.

Maybe you should be embarrassed that your body reacted like a teenager to a grown man. But it didn't really matter, because your body wasn't the only one reacting like a teenager in love in this situation.

Carlos' cheeks also turned a light shade of red, which looked really cute on him, so that a smile crept onto his lips.

"I missed you too," Carlos replied softly, causing the butterflies in your stomach to wake up and start flapping their wings, making your tummy tingle.

Smiling, you now sat there, simply enjoying the words and the warmth that each other radiated.

No further words needed to be spoken. Because you could both clearly feel how attracted you were to each other and that there was something between you that screamed more than just friendship.

It was crazy that you walked into a dog park just to see your dog playing and romping with other dogs and hadn't even come close to the idea of meeting someone you could fall head over heels in love with.

One person would probably find it rather cheesy, while another would talk about fate or great love.

But for you, it was just a coincidence. It was a coincidence that Carlos came to the dog park right here and that you two got on well right from the start and that you hit it off pretty quickly.

And it was a coincidence that your dogs got on well and that there was an intimate connection between the two of them.

"Can I ask you something? " Carlos broke the silence between you at some point, causing you to flinch slightly and take your eyes off your dogs to look back into his brown eyes.

And there was the warmth and a hint of security in his eyes again, which made you literally lose yourself in them.

Unable to speak, you just nodded while your heart skipped a little and you waited anxiously to see what Carlos would ask you.

"Would you make me the happiest person in the dog park by going on a date with me? "

[warnersister]

“Best interest” - Thomas Shelby x Sister!Reader

Thomas Shelby x Sister!Reader, Arthur Shelby x Sister!Reader, (background) Isaiah Jesus x Reader

During an altercation between you and your older brother Thomas turns physical, you turn to your oldest sibling for help.

Request: from anon

“Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So you and Tommy sister and u are 15 and u are living with Tommy and you and Tommy was having an argument and he slapped u and you walk out and Tommy was worried were u was as u didn’t come back for the night and turns out u was at Arthur and Arthur was shocked to see u at his door crying and u told him after and he rang Tommy up pissed off he has hit u

Hope that makes sense x”

“Isaiah Jesus is bad news.” Tommy told you, cigarette dangling from his lips. “He’s Finn’s best mate!” You retort “plus he works for you!” “Exactly.” He barks in response, stubbing out the remainder of the tobacco onto his desk before rounding it to get to you. “While you live under my roof, under any Shelby roof; you will not date no blinder nor man, you shall stay here and out of trouble.” He told you, wagging a finger at you like you were some dog who refused to do a trick.

“You don’t tell me what to do, you’re not my father.” And before you could think about at a large pain came into the side of your face, followed by an incessant buzzing and potentially red hand mark. Your brother has slapped you. “You are a fifteen year old girl. I am the closest thing to a fucking paternal figure you have and you will not fucking go against me, yn.” You said nothing in response, eyes welling up with tears as you cradle the soreness of your face.

Silently, you grabbed your coat and spun quickly on your heals - pivoting to face the door, rather than Thomas and making a dash for it before your brother was able to stop you. The door slammed shut behind you but Tommy didn’t move - you’d done this before, ran out but returned twenty minutes later with a bit less anger and a bit more Dutch courage in your system.

But when ten minutes had past, twenty, sixty, two hours; Thomas started to worry. He grabbed his coat and his cap, leaving in a similar fashion to yourself - slamming the door behind him to try find you on the unsafe streets of Birmingham: an unpromised virgin Shelby with a target over her head was potentially the worst possible person to leave alone. And even if you were angry, at least you’d be safe in his protection. And for once in his cold little life Thomas started to regret his actions.

You, on the other hand, knocked onto your other brothers - eyes welled to the brim with salty teeth’s that stung the mark on your face. He was notice drink from the hiccup he make when opening the door, but he sobered up rather quickly when he saw the state you were in. “Yn? What’s happened sweetheart?” Arthur asked you. “He hit me, Arth” you sniffed, upset. “Who did? Isaiah? I’ll fucking kill him-” “Thomas.” Arthur stopped in his tracks. “You fucking what?”

“Thomas hit me. Slapped me round the cheek when he found out about Isaiah. Said I wouldn’t stop seeing him just because he told me too-” you explained as your brother embraced you tightly and brought you in fr the cold to be able to properly comfort you. “Let me look” you moved the hand from your face and there laid a vibrant red handprint of the brother who would die tonight if Arthur got his own way; but right now his baby sister was in need and she would always come first to him.

“Come on love, I’ll get you an ice pack.” He mumbled, sitting you on the sofa before heading to the kitchen to grab some forgotten peas from the freezer to heal your dampened mood. “I’ll always look after you, y’know that?” He asked, stroking your hair and kissing your forehead. You nodded up at him. “That’s why I came to you first, Arth” he smiled, glad you trusted him as thus.

When you’d eventually settled and drifted to sleep at this ungodly hour, Arthur made a rather cruel phone call - but not before making a more gentle one. “Isaiah can you come round to mine please… yeah, she just needs you…”

Thomas paced around his house, unable to find you and the police told him they’d do anything in their power to find the Peaky sister before dawn but it wasn’t good enough, he needed you alive and well three hours ago. Not by morning.

The phone ringing dragged him out of his frantic thoughts. “Speaking?” “What are you fucking playing at?” “Arthur?” “I said, what are you fucking playing at Thomas?” He spat again. “Arthur this isn’t the time-” “laying a fucking finger on our baby sister. I’ll rip your cruel fucking hands off and kill you with ‘em” the man on the other end was quiet for a moment. “Is she with you?” “and I’ll slap you twice as bastard hard as you hit her-” “Arthur is yn with you?” Silence. “Yes.” He let up. “Oh thank god, did she come straight away?” “Four hours ago” “oh fucking hell, I’ll be there in five-" he said, pulling his coat back on. “No need. I don’t want to see your ugly fucking mug until morning.” “But," “no fucking buts. My little sister is staying the night with me and that’s final. Not sending her back to someone who’s gonna hurt her” and the line went dead.

The door rattled. “I swear to god Thomas if that’s you-” Arthur seethed, opening the door. “-oh Isaiah, come in lad” he welcomed, letting the sixteen year old blinder into his home - face drained and pumped back up with concern. “Where is she?” “In the living room.”

Isaiah ran into find you on the settee, awake from the commotion. He kneeled in front of you, gently holding your face in his hands checking you over, thumb carefully ghosting over the shadow of a hand on your cheek as his eyes progressively filled with rage. “I’ll fucking kill him for touching you. I’ll cut his hands off and make him eat em from breakfast-” Isaiah began to promise before truly looking into your eyes and seeing the upset in him: to which he immediately relaxed, for you: spoke a bit gentler. “Are you alright?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper. You nod. “It’s alright, I’ve got you” he promised, taking your body into his chest and caressing your back with a free hand, allowing your distress to seep off into much-needed sleep.

He looked over his shoulder at the older man watching from the doorway, anger returning to his eyes. ‘I’ll fucking kill him’ Isaiah mouthed and Arthur nodded ‘tomorrow’ he lipped back.

In the morning, as soon as the sun reared its head over the horizon, Thomas was at his brother’s doorstep - cap in hands. Awaiting the wrath as the commotion approached the door. “You slimy bastard.” Arthur allowed him through the door, locking it behind him. “Is she here?” “Yeah. With the boyfriend who cares about her more than you think he does.” Thomas ran through the downstairs portion of the house, informing the living room - seeing you sleeping peacefully in the arms of the boy he’d forbade.

Isaiah looked up at him, calmly. “No offence Tommy, but if she wasn’t here right now I’d be chopping your filthy fucking hands off with a butter knife” he said, voice cold and monotone. But he wasn’t able to reply, seeing you wake from your slumber to your abuser in the room you didn’t want him.

“What is he doing here?” You spat, venom leaking from your words. “Yn let’s go home-” “no.” “No?” Arthur stepped forward between the two of you. “I dare you to try lay a finger on her again.” “Yn I’m so sorry. I was worried after you ran off, y’know.” Tommy said, trying to sound guilty - which he was, truly. “But I can see I was being unreasonable and perhaps Isaiah does treat you better than I thought he could. I was only looking out for my baby sister.” He said. “I’ll never touch you again Yn. I’m sorry.” He opened his arms and the two other men looked at you, allowing to make your own choice here.

Slowly but surely, you inched towards Thomas who embraced you in a bone-crushing hug, kissing the top of your head as though it’s the first time he’d seen you in years. But in the embrace, he looked up at Isaiah and pointed a threatening finger at him. “But you ever hurt her and I’ll hold you down while she cuts your fucking balls off.”

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

you never knew how much i really liked you - s. crosby

summary: 'In truth, it wasn’t nothing – it was never nothing with Sid. It was always something, and usually it hurt. The timings; what wasn’t said; the history. There was more to the two of you than what even Nate and Taylor knew of – not even when they seemed to stop breathing when you admitted what it could be.'

warnings: sid x f!reader (ex-hockey player), swearing, miscommunication trope, mentions of the consumption of alcohol, bonus point if you spot the unintentional olivia rodrigo lyric, mentions of food aversion (in relation to illness & hints at anxiety), passing mentions of someone potentially having alcohol poisoning, confrontation

< a/n: the ending is abrupt but i can't be arsed changing it! sorry! ALSO: IT'S PENS PRE-SEASON DAY!! >

word count: 13k

 There was a chair, this time. They’d never been a chair there before, ever. You’d been to this house and you’d sat on the end of the deck with your feet hanging over the edge countless times in the last decade or so, but there had never been a chair there before, at least not one that didn’t have to be dragged from inside and unfolded. 

It didn’t particularly strike you as odd or anything, but it did stop you in your tracks at the top of the deck, and you did try to see if you could see him through the windows of his house, but it was early so the sun only reflected against the glass panes, completely blocking your view. But you’d seen his car in the driveway, and you knew he’d be up – probably eating his breakfast or in the gym already.

You gripped your book a little tighter, making your way towards the end of the pontoon and assessing the chair with your own eyes. You almost laughed at the blanket draped across the back of it, but it didn’t stop you from picking it up and covering yourself with it after you got settled.

It was a lovely morning, it always was here, and it was partly why you loved arriving earlier: there was something about the crispness of the sun in the morning and the rawness of the view. It wasn’t one you could ever imagine getting tired of. The water was gorgeous, the trees were gorgeous, the sky was gorgeous, the birds were gorgeous. As usual, it took you a while to work yourself up to actually pick up your book and tear your attention away from the view.

It was a muffled bark that finally did it, your fingers absent-mindedly playing with the pages of the book, and you turned to peer around the side of the chair, a golden labrador bounding down the pontoon, tongue lolling out and ears flapping as she did. You grinned, sitting forward in the chair and anticipating Sam to stop right in front of you, her tail wagging ferociously as you scratched behind her ears.

“Good morning to you, too.” You muttered, clenching your jaw and stroking her fur as she collapsed to lay at your feet, her belly exposed for you to scratch, “Where’s Sid?” At the mention of his name, Sam’s ears perked up and she barked, her head turning to something behind you, “Is he walking down now?” You didn’t turn around, instead focusing your attention entirely on the pup in front of you – until the pair of footsteps echoing against the wood became too noticeable to ignore.

The sun was still blinding from reflecting off the patio doors, but the silhouette of Sid was nearly impossible to ignore, more so when he was effortlessly carrying another chair in one arm and a travel flask with two cups balanced on the lid in the other.

You shielded your eyes with your hand, about to get up to help him in some way, but he shook his head adamantly, “I got it. Here.” He passed you the mug with the cups, and you sat silently, watching him unfold the chair (it looked a lot less comfortable than the one he’d set out for you, though you didn’t comment on it) and settled himself in.

“Morning.” You greeted, passing him one cup before unscrewing the lid and sniffing.

“Morning.” He replied, grinning, “It’s decaf, by the way.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, “Thank you.”

“‘Course.”

“Are you sure you wanna put this in your body this early?” You asked, taking his cup from him and pouring out the steaming coffee. It warmed your hands nicely through the plastic, and you snuck a look at him out of the corner of your eye. He was sitting comfortably, a little lower than you because of the height of his chair, and he was watching you carefully, completely unashamed at having been caught in the act. His grin did seem to melt into one more bashful, and he looked out across the water, blinking in the light.

“I feel like I’m gonna need it to get through today.” He answered, gently taking his cup from your hand, fingertips brushing delicately against yours.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty hectic.” You agreed, placing the flask on the floor, giving Sam a quick pat before sipping on your own coffee, your book tucked under your chair. You had a feeling you weren’t going to get much reading done now anyway, not when Sid had decided to join you.

You both leaned back in your chairs, the blanket tucked around your waist, and nothing was said for around ten minutes. Nothing needed to be said. Even Sam seemed to get that message; she was curled up at both your feet, her head turned in the direction of the water. Every so often she’d perk up, maybe when a bird flew overhead or when she heard something in the woodland, but she’d always end up placing her head back down on the wooden beams, bathing in the sun.

“This is always my favourite week of the entire year.” You admitted a little shyly. It wasn’t something you were afraid of saying out loud, per se, but you’d known Sid for years. He was the one that started the week-long camp for the kids in Cole Harbour, and for some reason admitting that it was his creation that you always looked forward to the most was a little daunting.

He didn’t seem to think so, but he couldn’t quite keep the shock off his face when he registered what it was you’d said.

“It is?” 

You nodded, “Is that sad? I feel like it is.”

He shook his head, “Nah, it’s not sad at all.”

If it had been anyone else that had admitted that, Sid might have teased a little – or if you’d said something else altogether, but almost as soon as you’d thrown those words out there he felt a twinge of empathy for you. To have played hockey with each other most of your youth…you’d obviously stopped playing against and with boys at a certain age because of the regulations, but you’d managed to secure a spot on a local girl’s team and eventually you’d gone on to play at college. And by the time graduation came around, you had your degree, sure, but there was no women’s hockey league to play for, not one you could live comfortably off anyway.

Sid had often tried to put himself in your shoes…it killed him every time, like getting stabbed in the chest. Only, when you said that, the knife twisted and was pulled out, and he swore his heart broke a little. To have the skill and the talent to play professionally, but no league to play in was his worst nightmare.

To not have hockey, to him, was to not live and breathe. If he didn’t have hockey, he couldn’t even imagine what he’d be doing right now.

You just hummed, clearly not believing him, and he inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to give you a reassuring touch. He was about to say something, but you turned to look at him sharply, an odd expression on your face.

“What?” He found himself asking, taking a self-conscious sip of the coffee to hide his face.

Your eyes narrowed, and a small smile curled at your lips, “Aren’t you gonna make a comment about ‘wow, you must really miss me, huh?’, or–”

“I don’t sound like that.” He shook his head, managing a tight smile. You were trying to cover a wound that had scarred over the years by switching the subject, but Sid could only muster a forced laugh and a curious glance in your direction, “Did you miss me, though?”

There was a brief moment where he thought you’d play his question off and pretend you hadn’t heard him, and in that brief moment there were a few things that happened to him: his heart seemed to pound and drop to his feet at the same time; he realised that if you didn’t miss him he wasn’t quite sure what else to do, and regret. The regret was anticipatory, though, of you ignoring him.

And it also seemed to dissolve completely when you answered: “Yeah. Not as much as I used to, though.”

Sid swallowed, picking at his navy joggers. Instead of regret, it was guilt that ate away at him – for something he couldn’t even control.

“What do you mean?” His mouth felt dry, and his grip on the cup tightened.

You turned to look at him, shrugging hopelessly, “That first year without you was just a lot to adjust to, that’s all.”

“It was?”

Something on your face seemed to flicker; your brows twitched downwards and any trace of happiness that was previously written on your face was suddenly no longer visible. Your head tilted, and you stuttered, clearly not quite knowing what to say or where to start.

“I…” You trailed off, and Sid felt the beginnings of dread begin to creep up his stomach and settle there like a pebble, “Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

He shook his head, jaw clenching. You looked inexplicably sad at his reply, and turned to fix your eyes on the water in front of you, a sip of scalding coffee seemingly hinting at wanting to end the conversation.

But Sid wasn’t quite done, not yet. His first year in the NHL: he remembered it pretty clearly, and he also remembered that neither of you were that good at keeping in touch with each other. You were on the other side of the country in California for college, and he was mainly in Pittsburgh, but nearly everywhere. Moving out of Nova Scotia was a big thing for both of you, but having lived next door to each other for your entire childhood and having played on the same team as little kids? That first year was difficult.

“Did something happen?” He asked, voice a little frailer than he’d liked to have conveyed – so much so that even Sam’s ears seemed to prick at the slight twinge in pitch.

You shook your head, sighing deeply, “I just kind of had the sense that I was never gonna see you again those first few months, that’s all. I psyched myself out…it’s fine now, though.”

***

“Is Sid okay?” Taylor sidled up to you on the edge of the group of kids listening intently to the man in question, skates scratching to a stop as she murmured the question in your ear.

You felt your brows pinch, your gloved hands resting on the top of your stick hiding your mouth as you turned to her, “As far as I’m aware.”

He looked okay from where you were standing: the very picture of effortless leadership as he explained the next game to the group of kids all staring up at him intently, some with dropped jaws and some with frowns of concentration etched on their features. They were all wearing monochrome jerseys and the overhead lights were reflecting off their helmets. Not a single one wasn’t watching Sid talk.

His voice wasn’t wavering, and he was giving the kids his entire attention – devoted as usual to his sport…so?

“Why?” You raised a brow, looking at Taylor out of the corner of your eye.

Her mouth was pulled down at the corners, and she shrugged offhandedly, “I dunno, he just seems a bit off today.”

Yeah, okay. You turned your attention back to him, trying to commit every little motion of his hand to memory, intently keeping an eye out for any trembling or straying of his attention. It must have been another fifteen seconds before you sighed, turning back to Taylor, who was regarding you with an air of amusement, a sly smile hiding on her face.

“What?” You asked, feeling as though she was looking right through you.

“Nothing.” Then, after a pause, “Did he drive you over here?” 

You hummed, nodding, but your mind was stuck replaying and analysing what she’d previously said, “What did you mean by ‘off’?”

“What’s up with Sid?” 

Your heart thundered in shock, not having anticipated Nate to shuffle over to your other shoulder. His voice in your ear was jarring, but still as soft as yours and Taylor’s had been, not wanting to disrupt the talk at the front of the group.

“What do you mean?”

“Three guesses.” 

You and Taylor spoke up at the same time, and when you turned to look at her she was glaring at you rather pointedly, and Nate whistled lowly in your ear, a deep laugh shaking his ribs.

“No way, what did you say to him?” Nate asked, half-giggling, and you sighed, getting slightly infuriated by the lack of real answers and use of cryptic mutters that had you no closer to figuring out exactly just what they were on about.

A part of you was losing your cool a bit because you liked to think you knew Sid pretty well; in fact, you did know him pretty well. It was why you couldn’t possibly fathom another two minutes in the presence of these two without getting an answer, because he’d been like this since…

Oh.

Nate’s laughter immediately halted, and Taylor leaned forward, the two of them sharing a cautious look at the way you seemed to wince.

“What?” They chorused, the combination of their voices causing a few heads to turn in your direction, and you ducked your head, adjusting your skates as an excuse not to draw even more attention to yourself.

After a nudge in the elbow, you lifted your head up. 

There was no way that was what was causing him to be more distracted than usual. It wasn’t even a big deal or anything, and it certainly wasn’t a secret – you thought he knew, that wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t like he’d actually done anything all those years ago, either. That first year was almost radio silence on both ends, and you were honestly glad that wasn’t the case now.

But, still? No way.

“It’s not much, I don’t even think it could be what I’m thinking anyway.” You shook your head, watching him.

“What’re you thinking?” Taylor whispered, the lip of her cap catching you in the cheek with how close she’d shuffled.

You recoiled slightly, “It’s genuinely nothing. He just apparently didn’t know that I missed him the first year.” Your voice trailed off weakly, “Nothing.”

In truth, it wasn’t nothing – it was never nothing with Sid. It was always something, and usually it hurt. The timings; what wasn’t said; the history. There was more to the two of you than what even Nate and Taylor knew of – not even when they seemed to stop breathing when you admitted what it could be.

There were weeks and months and years where you didn’t talk much, mostly due to the distance and the clashing of schedules, but there was a lull that you’d both managed to keep from everyone else, and if you were being honest, now that you were thinking about it…that and with your earlier admission on top of it…

Maybe it was your fault.

“What did he say?” Taylor said, shaking you out of your own head. You blinked, apparently still looking at Sid.

There was something grave and more serious in her features that hadn’t been there earlier, and when you shot a look at Nate, he was wearing an almost identical expression: his brows were furrowed together and his mouth was pulled in a tight line, altogether looking uncharacteristically morbid.

You felt your pulse quicken in foreboding, “He asked if anything happened and then we got in the car.”

“Nothing else?” 

You inhaled, blinking twice, “Should there have been?”

***

The car ride back to your house was silent. Eerily so. Your body was exhausted and your brain was still playing the soundtrack of pucks smacking against posts, sticks and boards in your head, along with the joyous yells of the kids. That was why you loved it so much – not just the ice time and the familiarity of having a stick in your hands and a puck at your feet – but for the look on their faces when they looked up from the ice to see a grinning Sidney Crosby or Nathan MacKinnon singing them praises.

It made you wonder how many of them would eventually go on to play college hockey or even make it to the professional leagues.

You stifled a grin, your hand over your mouth as you turned to look out of the passenger window.

The only thing that broke through to you was the motion of the driver when his head turned to watch you briefly before returning back to the road. That simple movement had the smile melting off your face. 

You’d never been particularly nervous around Sid – and on the few occasions you had been, all it had taken was a fifteen minute conversation with him and it all dissipated – but this time was different. Not only was what Taylor had told you swirling around your mind, but the tension in the car was palpable, at least in your opinion.

Sid hadn’t said much, just kept his jaw clenched and his eyes focused on the road. Since this morning, it was probably the only glaringly obvious symptom that something wasn’t quite right, or something was playing on his mind.

It didn’t take much for you to box your own miseries and turn to him. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye first: the strong jaw, the full lips, the prominent nose, the dark eyes and darker hair. He really was quite breathtaking. The hands on the steering wheel, the rippling forearms each time he had to turn the wheel. It wasn’t something you were immune to at all: in fact, since the age of about fourteen you’d been hyper aware of the fact that Sid was stunning – and it wasn’t just in his looks, either. His work ethic, concentration, determination, kindness, generosity. He was the insurmountable sum of all of those qualities, and you were a damn fool if you didn’t recognise the fact that you’d been a tiny bit in love with him all your life.

And because of that, you knew him well. Not as well as some people might initially assume, but well enough.

“You okay?” You asked, earning nothing but a nod and a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, why?”

You shrugged, “You’re just quiet.”

“I’m tired, that’s all.”

You nodded, looking to your lap. He’d be tired the entire week, that was always how this went. But he’d get by and he’d manage and he’d recover like he wasn’t tired: he still kept smiling, still showed enthusiasm, and maybe he’d gotten used to it over the years, because you could have sworn each time he organised this he was less and less tired.

“You sleeping okay?” 

He nodded, running a hand from his wrist to scratch under his sleeve, and you followed the motion unconsciously with your eyes, “More than. You?”

You shrugged, pulling an unsure face, “The usual.”

He snuck another glance at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the road ahead, “What about you, are you okay?” He echoed your own question back to you, and maybe if it wasn’t for the genuine thin film of concern to his voice, you’d have brushed it off with an answer and a huff of laughter. Instead, though, you parrotted his words back to him, nailing the equal part-suspicion and amusement.

“Yeah, why?” 

“You’re hilarious.” He shot back drily, shaking his head.

“Hey, can you drop me off at my parents’ house please, I need to collect something. I’ll literally be five minutes.”

It was Taylor’s voice in your head that kept bashing about, repeating words and flashing images – Nate was thrown in there too from that earlier conversation you’d all had when Sid was oblivious, and it didn’t let up, not even when you pushed the key into your childhood home and shut the door behind you.

The house was pretty quiet, the sound of the door shutting echoing down the hallway. The TV was flashing in the living room, and you could hear voices, from both the news anchors and your parents talking over it. Only then did Taylor’s words quieten. 

“Who is it?” A voice yelled out just as you’d scraped your shoes off your feet, and the smile that bloomed on your face was almost instantaneous.

“Your favourite child!”

There was a brief pause, and you stopped in the hallway, waiting until he replied.

“That doesn’t sound like Sid.”

You pulled a face, snatching a pair of socks from the staircase before entering the living room, pelting the ball at your Dad’s head, the soft cotton smacking him straight in the nose. He was sitting in his PJs: plaid bottoms and a crumpled top, with slippers and no socks on his feet. When the socks collided with his face, that smirk was still there, even as he lobbed them back at you with surprising force to say he didn’t have a lot of arm room.

“Nice to see you, too.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at your Mom, who’d since gotten up off the sofa to peer through the blinds.

“What’re you doing?” Your Dad asked, turning his attention to his wife, and before she’d even answered you knew what she was going to say.

“Sid’s outside in the car.” You said, shrugging when they both turned to you with equal appal written all over their faces.

“Get him in here.” Your Mom grinned, knocking on the window and motioning for the man himself to come inside.

You just rolled your eyes, “I’m just gonna go get something from upstairs.” Your words fell on deaf ears, however, because almost as soon as you’d taken initiative and left the room, the front door was shutting and Sid was standing, smiling, at the door, still decked out in camp kit and looking every bit as nervous as the first time he’d ever met your family. And then he seemed to spot you walking towards him, your parents in front of you, and he let out that telltale breath, his shoulders and face relaxing fractionally.

He’d explained it to you before, about how he still feels awkward meeting people’s parents, no matter how long he’s known them, and you never seem to remember that until you see it with your own eyes: I don’t know, it’s weird, but if I see, say you, someone I know, it kinda gets me out of my head a bit. I don’t know why.

“Come in, come in – oh, she’s just picking something up–”

You immediately turned on the stairs, one hand still clutching the bannister tightly, to look upon a pair of eyes that practically gleamed ‘don’t leave me here’. The rest of his face was pretty neutral, a polite smile as your parents chatted his ears off, the both of them making their way back into the house, and there was a split second where they weren’t looking at either of you.

For some reason, instead of laughing at his misfortune, you inhaled quickly, leaning over the bannister, “Wait, I need Sid’s help with something.” 

Everyone seemed to freeze. Even despite the mental pleading he’d been doing, Sid couldn’t help it when his lips parted in shock, kind of like he couldn’t help it when his brows knitted together. Your mom stopped talking about how nice it was to see Sid again, and looked up at you too. It looked as though she was about to say something, but with the guilty, rather hurried smile on your face she clamped her mouth shut, nodding. Your dad hadn’t stopped walking, but even from the other room the rather loud ‘mutter’ of, “Is that what we’re calling it, now?” 

Needless to say, both yours and Sid’s cheeks were still a little bit pink by the time you’d walked into your old bedroom.

“What’re you looking for?” He asked, desperate to get his mind out of that gutter, and flopped on your still-made bed, picking up the penguin teddy he’d brought home after his draft. He’d bought it in one of the stores in the airport in Toronto on his way back home, and you’d never had the heart to even move it out of this house: it belonged here.

“Do you remember that video camera I used to have?” You pulled open the first contender: the bedside table drawer. There were loose cables, hair ties, various joint support bands…but no sign of the camera.

“Yeah.” Came the reply from near your head, and you blinked, not expecting him to be so close. He’d rolled onto his front, his face smushed into your pillow, and he made no attempt to pretend as though he hadn’t been watching you rifle through your drawers – at least not if that cheeky grin didn’t automatically make its way onto his face.

You pushed his forehead back, stopping your mild attack when he screamed before dissolving into giggles severely reminiscent of when he was younger. It was so incredibly infectious, so incredibly nostalgic that all you could do was crouch, an unconscious open-mouthed smile on your face.

“Why are you laughing?” You slammed the drawer shut, heaving yourself off the floor and over to your old desk. There were still some notebooks scattered across the surface, pens in the stand. The cupboard and shelves were almost full, and it was only as you started to pull everything out, looking inside baskets and boxes that Sid could be bothered to speak again.

“Because I’m pretty sure we had this exact conversation when we were twenty.”

“We did?”

“Yeah.” He punctuated it with a sigh, a despondent one, and you looked at him over your shoulder. He was sitting up now, his hands clamped around his ankles, a thoughtful look on his face.

The ‘twenty’ year with Sid had been very weird, and you never really figured out why. The nineteenth was almost non-existent, the twenty-first good, but it was tinged by what happened at the end of his season (not the winning the Stanley Cup for the first time, but the other thing), which made your twenty-second awkward, and the twenty-third was almost like a reset. You never really realised how much you’d both changed until you got to relearn each other as adults. 

He was eyeing the corner of your room you tried to avoid looking at. 

“So why are you looking for the camera?” He asked, voice sounding far-away. He was still staring at the trophy corner, and you turned your attention back to rifling through old relics in the hunt, gladly looking anywhere but that shrine.

“If I told you Taylor would murder me in my sleep.”

He groaned, “I told her not to do anything for my birthday.” 

“It’s nothing big, I think she just wants photos from when we were younger.”

“We?”

You shrugged, missing the slight catch in his voice, “Well, you, but there’s loads of photos of you on my camera, I think she just wants a look. I always forget how young she was when we left.” You sighed, slamming the cupboard door on your desk shut, before standing in the middle of your room, hands on your hips, “I don’t know where else I could have put it.”

He didn’t say anything, but the creaky springs of your mattress groaned under his hands as he pushed himself up off your bed, before walking straight passed you and into the forbidden corner.

There was a clinking sound of metal, and you whirled on your heel, watching him carefully rifle through the trophies, photo frames, certificates and medals all hung and displayed neatly, before spinning around on his heel, holding the camera in his hand with a knowing look on his face.

***

Saying you were nervous was a bit of an understatement considering what it was you were about to do. The camera’s SD card was safely tucked into your laptop, but you’d been staring at the folder on the homescreen for ten minutes, and you were sure you hadn’t felt this nervous since your driving test. Your hands were clammy, your heart was racing and your brain was loud.

You’d lied to Sid earlier – well, partially. Taylor had wanted to look at some photos, and you had every intention on bringing the camera in to the rink tomorrow so you could giggle at the contents in your breaks, but there was something else she’d also said, something that got your brain working, and you hadn’t been able to think about anything else since. 

You inhaled shakily, before double-clicking the yellow folder, the seconds where the mouse loaded into a swirl of blue almost knocking your soul out of your body from the sheer anxiety of it all. You hoped you were wrong, but a small part of you hoped Taylor had been right. If she had, it’d make so much sense as to what happened when you were eighteen-nineteen, but if she was right? You weren’t entirely sure what you were going to do.

The screen flooded with images…school corridors, ice rinks, soccer fields, bedrooms, cars, bars, Rimouski, until–

Fuck.

You froze, eyes fixated on the one photo that had caught your eye. It was someone’s back garden, you couldn’t remember who exactly, but you remembered being there. It was dark, string lights and strobe lights hung across the verandah and neon streaks flickered from between plants. 

You’d drunk so much that night but you could still remember handing your camera off to some of your classmates – it must have been graduation – and everyone had been drinking, that much you could tell from the quality of the photos, and this one in particular wasn’t any different. It was a blurred photo of someone celebrating a beer pong game, their arms raised over their head and their mouth open in some kind of celebratory roar, but it wasn’t that that caught your attention.

It was the shadowy figures of two teenagers sitting on the stools towards one side of the garden, a makeshift table pressed against the wall. They were sitting close together, knees slotted between each other, and faces mere inches apart. Both were wearing grins, even despite being mid-kiss.

Shadowy, yet so unmistakably you and Sid.

***

“You okay?”

You blinked, the staff room coming back to you. The fluorescent lights glared along the surface of the table you’d picked, your lunch tray sitting untouched in front of you, and there was a general buzz about the place. It was lunchtime, and you’d opted out of kid-duty – partly because you were on the brink of giving yourself a headache and mostly just because you couldn’t really focus on much without immediately thinking about Sid – which meant sitting at a table in a quiet room by yourself just for a breather.

Only, a rather determined, hazel-eyed man seemed to have other ideas if the tray plopped down opposite you was anything to go by. He collapsed against the chair with a sigh, hands picking up his knife and fork with practised ease, and he hadn’t even given you a chance to answer his question before he was pausing, eyeing you with mild concern. His eyebrows knitted together and he ducked his head to try to get a closer read on you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing, almost nervous.

This thing had happened all those years ago and he��d never brought it up. Yet, that still didn’t explain why he’d then…he was confusing, in the present tense. 

His mouth turned downwards for a brief moment and he shook his head in disbelief, “You disappeared ten minutes ago and you haven’t touched your food.”

You just shrugged, managing a tight smile, “Not very hungry.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se, but it was the honest truth when your stomach rolled just as he put a forkful of food in his own mouth. It revolted you to such an extent you pushed your own tray further away and turned to sit sideways on your chair, all just so you wouldn’t have to look at him eat.

He froze, his fork stilling, “Are you…I can take the food away if you want?” 

You shook your head, closing your eyes, “No, it’s fine.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and your hand found its way into the pocket of your tracksuit bottoms, fingers finding the smooth plastic of the USB stick you’d copied the photos for Taylor on. You had a plan, see. You wanted to kind of broach the topic of the graduation party with Sid, mainly just to test him for a reaction without outrightly admitting anything, and you figured – despite your current situation – that now was…appropriate.

“Do you know where Taylor is?” You asked, keeping your eyes screwed shut.

“No, why?” His answer came all too quickly, a hint of nosiness creeping into his tone. You could imagine the slight raise of one eyebrow and the thinly veiled look of ‘why the heck are you wanting my sister?’ expression on his face. You’d seen it many times before, and it never ceased to amuse.

“I have that USB of photos to give her and I haven’t seen her all morning, I was just wondering if you knew where she was?”

He would, of course. If one thing was ever going to be guaranteed about Sidney Crosby, it was the protective ‘eye’ he kept on Taylor.

“She’s in the canteen. Did you find any good’ens on there?”

“Yeah, actually.” You peeled your eyes open, ensuring to keep them fixated on his face instead of the sickly pile of food on his plate, “Do you remember that graduation party?”

He chewed thoughtfully, his jaw slowing as he nodded his head cautiously, “Yeah.” He said, dragging the word out, and there was a prick of pink on his cheeks, as though he’d suddenly come under a severe amount of stress.

He was getting a little uncomfortable.

“There’s a photo of…Jack, I think it is? Is that right?” He nodded, “He clearly won a game of beer pong or something because there’s a couple of blurry photos of him celebrating and if you look really closely you can see us in the background. It must have been towards the end of the night or something because I looked like I was falling everywhere.”

He nodded, humming interestedly, “What were we doing?”

You felt your mouth part, almost shocked at the sudden ease rolling off his shoulders. It was as though he’d prepared himself to deny, deny, deny this for his entire life, and purely because you were feeling like shit and like a shit, you shrugged, “Couldn’t really…make it out, I don’t know. I can’t remember what happened that night anyway, I drank way too much.”

He nodded once more, shrugging, “Yeah, I remember having to hold your hair back and almost dialling for an ambulance because I was pretty sure you had alcohol poisoning.”

You nodded, staging a faux look of confusion, “Did anything happen that night? You were really weird for a couple of days after.”

There was a pause – a brief one, maybe a quarter of a second, and he looked straight at you, jaw frozen mid-chew and for a moment you thought he’d picked up on something and you were found out. Then he blinked, and with the way he was acting: sitting up straighter, almost hesitating saying something, you thought maybe he was about to tell the truth.

“No.” He pulled a face, “Nothing happened that I can remember.”

***

It turned out the aversion to food was part of a larger issue, a result most likely of possibly contracting a bug from one of the kids – or maybe you were just horrendously unlucky, because you spent the rest of the night in the bathroom, and were so unwell the next morning you had to cancel helping out at Sid’s camp.

He’d sent a string of texts and a few unanswered phone calls, but you didn’t really have the energy to answer them – not when you were feeling so weird around him. You’d thought, prior to finding out about the photos and what had actually happened (bless Taylor’s oblivious nosiness when Nate had asked about you guys before – Sid had actually admitted to the whole graduation thing to the blonde, and that was Taylor’s knowledge of the entire thing), that you and Sid had maintained a pretty honest friendship, but apparently not? You wouldn’t have been so put off by the whole thing if he hadn’t pulled that same stunt later down the line, either.

There was definitely a pattern, and he definitely had a pattern and it seemed to just be deny, deny, deny at all cost.

And you weren’t entirely sure when this had happened, but you’d come to the realisation that you were sick of pretending like the two of you hadn’t been dancing that line for years. What you’d thought was seven years of denial was actually ten. This thing had been going on since you were kids, and each time something had happened you’d get weird around each other and when you tried to talk about it he’d make some excuse.

If it wasn’t a big deal why did it always have such a big impact on the two of you?

That entire thought process was what you’d been unable to escape from nearly all day. No amount of episodes of TV shows or films could distract your brain from that little spiel, it was like having a grating voice go on and on in your ear and you weren’t quite sure how to proceed, what to do to distract yourself.

Your kettle clicked off, and you sniffed, reaching out to grab the handle, the steam from the boiling water offering some kind of relief from the pressure in your sinuses.

You really were ill, but not nearly as ill as you’d made out to be to Sid. In truth you just needed a break, mostly from him, which felt horrendous to admit considering your ‘break’ from that man consisted of an entire NHL season, and your days spent in each other’s company were severely limited anyway.

But there was something in you that knew if you saw his face you wouldn’t be able to hold back saying or doing something.

Taylor knew what was really going on, and if you knew Taylor like you thought you did that probably meant Nate knew, but you know Nate well enough now to guess he wouldn’t go blabbing to Sid about something that’s not his business. The blonde likes his gossip, but he knows when to stay out of certain situations.

You liked Nate.

You inhaled, the hot water turning a bright-yellow from the teabag you’d placed in the mug (a lemon and ginger one you’d managed to snag from a local store a few days ago), and it was just as you’d threaded your fingers through the mug handle that there was a knock at your door.

You froze, brain a little slow to understand you should be moving to answer it, when a voice could be heard through the frosted glass panes.

The mug seemed to slam against the countertop of its own going, not loud enough for the intruder to hear it but loud enough to satisfy your irritation at who it was.

Think of the devil and he shall indeed appear.

He quieted down for a few seconds and you ducked from where you were standing, knowing if he made his way around to the back of the house where your kitchen window was he wouldn’t be able to see you crouched behind the counter.

And then your phone started ringing. It didn’t exactly take a genius to know who it was and the eye roll came almost automatically.

He could be so dramatic sometimes.

It must have taken barely ten seconds for him to stop ringing, and you held your breath, desperately trying to figure out if he’d moved away and given up; your knees and hips were seizing, you could feel them begin to lock from not having moved nearly all day, and you winced, hand reaching up to grip the countertop.

If you were lucky he wouldn’t be looking—

“I can see your hand and your tea.” His muffled voice deadpanned and you sighed defeated, pulling yourself up.

He was standing in your backyard, his phone in his hand and a rather disappointed look on his face as he stared straight at you through the window. 

You had to give him credit where it was due: the man could certainly kick up a fuss and coax you out of hiding.

Granted, you weren’t allocated a set amount of time to even begin to make it look like you were really holed up in bed. If you had, the TV downstairs would be off, as would the lights, and there wouldn’t be an easily visible makeshift blanket bed on the couch. All he’d really had to do was walk along your drive to peer through the front window, and then walk straight down the side of your house to the back gate.

You’d kept it unlocked for the last couple of days because you hadn’t been in much to accept parcels, and you’d never gotten round to locking it again.

Of course you’d come to regret that immediately.

The back door lock clicked open as you twisted the key, and you didn’t spare him a glance, instead making a beeline for the half-made tea. For one, you knew watching him walk through the door with his current sulk on was only going to encourage him to start talking about it, and you absolutely weren’t about to give him that satisfaction. You also really wanted that tea, it was probably the only thing standing between you getting better for the camp and the weird sickness you’d managed to contract.

Your immune system was shit.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your eyes lazily in his direction, taking out the tea bag and leaving it to drain, “Hi.”

Your voice was scratchy and rough, and the reaction it elicited from the man in front of you: brows raised, mouth dropping open, sprung a rather odd thought to the forefront of your mind: “Did you not believe me when I said I was sick?” You managed, laughing awkwardly and inhaling the vapour from your mug, watching him closely.

He shrugged, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up on the hooks. There was a spare hook, one not used for your own stuff: a plethora of raincoats, boots, kitchen aprons…and Sid’s jacket. 

“I did believe you. Kind of.” He admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the kitchen counter, “I thought you were maybe avoiding me, though.”

You blinked, keeping your face neutral, actively trying not to scoff at him or narrow your eyes in his direction, “I am avoiding you; I’m not about to give whatever this is to you, am I?” You asked softly, cradling the mug of tea under your chin, feeling the irritation begin to swirl under your skin already.

You shifted uncomfortably, and Sid watched your eyes dart to a chair pressed up against the wall with longing. He knew there was something up, something not linked to being sick – he’d felt it in the car earlier and you were practically drenched in tension yesterday. It was difficult to ignore, and judging from the way you’d been seeking out Taylor recently he had a feeling it might have been something to do with him.

What, though, he had no idea.

“Well,” he inhaled, mouth flattening into a straight line. His chest seemed to ache suddenly when you nodded, an almost sarcastic grin on your lips, purposefully avoiding looking in his direction, and he’d known you long enough by now to know when you wanted him out of the house. Now it was no different, “Thank you, I appreciate the thought.”

An uncomfortable silence.

He wanted to scream.

“I best be going.” He hurried out, the words almost getting tangled in his mouth, and before he could cause himself more harm by looking at you and the action not being reciprocated, he turned his back and reached automatically for the coat he’d literally just hung up.

Sid had never been a cryer – he didn’t class himself as an emotional guy, which was why he was so shocked at the sudden burning of his eyes and the tightness in his throat. Fuck, he couldn’t cry here. One, because it’s embarrassing, and two: he had no clue why he was upset to this extent.

He’d managed to put his arms through his sleeves, just about to start zipping it up after a quick glance at the sky outside when you suddenly spoke, voice somehow even rougher than before.

“What reason would I be avoiding you for?”

Sid froze, swallowing nervously. It didn’t take a genius, even in that exact moment, to dissect the words you’d chosen to come to the conclusion that you’d picked them carefully. Not ‘what made you think I was avoiding you?’ which would certainly have been easier for him to answer, but he had a feeling you knew that. 

It was pretty obvious from the avoidance at lunch yesterday and the weird behaviour in the car the day before that, and then the cold shoulder and lack of interest in conversation now, that something was wrong. The signs were pretty subtle, though, he had to give you that.

He turned slowly, fingers detaching from his zipper. You were now sitting at the chair against the wall, knees tucked up to your chin, the hot mug of tea still clasped in your hands. Your eyes were a little red, probably due to exhaustion, and your hair had been twisted to sit across one shoulder, attention faced solely and rather intensely on him.

“Uhm–” he cleared his throat, blinking quickly to rid of the shining moisture in his eyes. He could feel his heart racing against his sternum, and he wondered briefly if you could hear it from across the room, “I don’t know.” He muttered sadly, eyes flicking to his shoes.

Camp had been great today, as it usually was, but he always found himself scanning the ice for your familiar face. 

You nodded, sighing with disappointment, and Sid felt himself deflate. His fingers tapped against his thigh seven, eight times before he inhaled, throwing the words out in the open before he lost the courage to do so.

“What’s going on with you?” He was about three seconds away from stamping his foot; he was so desperate to know the answer. It was childish and it was stupid, but it meant something to him when you shrugged, eyes suddenly misty.

He knew what you were going to say before you even said it, but he kept quiet anyway.

“Nothing.” You sounded as wrecked as he felt, a hint of sheer resignation in your voice. It was so uncharacteristic of you: to Sid it was as if you’d not only given up on whatever it was that was bothering you but you’d given up on hiding that something was ever wrong in the first place.

It was a victory, no matter how small.

“Come on.” He took a step closer, quite literally on the verge of begging, “Really? That’s all you’ve got?”

Silence.

“I know you. Better than anyone–”

The expression on your face changed immediately, and it felt as though you’d socked him in the chest. You didn’t believe him.

You didn’t believe him.

“I want to know you better than anyone else does.” He sighed, hands pressing against his temples before he dropped them back to his sides, not quite registering what his words meant. They’d flown out of his mouth before he even heard them in his brain, and even when he’d spoken them out loud it felt surreal. He wasn’t sure what was what with all the blood rushing in his ears.

It was because of that, trapped inside himself and his own mind that he failed to register the look on your face.

“Even still,” he continued, plopping himself down on the chair on the other side of the table from you, hands knitted together on the tabletop. He was leaning right across the table but you haven't moved an inch, “This…This, you being quiet, withdrawn, skipping a day of camp – I know you’re sick and everything, but that’s never stopped you before, not when it comes to hockey.” He paused, taking a breath, “What’s going on?”

You took a sip of tea, ignoring the scalding sensation against your tongue in favour of stalling. If you didn’t say anything now, then you probably never would. In fact, if he hadn’t said what he’d just said, clearly without thinking about the meaning of the damn words, you knew you wouldn’t even be considering telling him at all. But where there was doubt…

“Why did you never mention what happened at the graduation party?”

You heard him stop breathing. There was no reason to look at him to see it when you could practically hear the hitch in his chest and the lack of air. When you did look at him his cheeks had paled and his mouth was opening and shutting, shoulders stuck in a shrug as though you’d genuinely caught him off-guard.

You could ask him that question without it meaning anything – it could just as easily be read as ‘huh, funny that you never mentioned it before’ than as ‘you kind of denied me the truth of why we’re so weird because everything that’s ever happened between us since that night has been a direct result of whatever fucked-up miscommunication gig we’ve got going on here’.

“How did you find out?” He breathed, a deep crease between his brows. Now that he’d had time to recover, he looked more concerned – angry, even – than sheepish.

You shrugged, “Those photos I got for Taylor? We’re in the background of ‘em.”

He nodded slowly, mouth pressed in a straight line. This time it was him that couldn’t look at you, probably just to gather his thoughts. You could tell his mind was racing, eyes zipping back and forth against the grain of the table.

You could feel your heart banging in your chest, the speed of it almost stinging. The anticipation was debilitating, and it took everything in you not to spit out question after question, because he was taking ages to say something and it was driving you crazy. Your fingers were tapping against your mug, a sharp exhale blowing the vapour around.

It was maybe that that had him looking up, head tilted backwards slightly, a thumb teasing at his lip. It was probably the first time you’d seen him lost for words.

“You really don’t remember it?” He muttered, brown eyes wide and clear, shiny in the last rays of sun poking through the back windows.

You shook your head, “I told you I didn’t remember.”

“I thought you were…I thought that was your way of letting me down gently.” 

You huffed a disbelieving laugh, staring at him, half-expecting him to take those words back and say he was kidding, but he never did. He just continued to look at you, that damn crease between his brows, eyes glassy and playing with his bottom lip like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was still wearing his coat.

He never spoke.

“Why would I reject you?”

His hand fell from his mouth, landing with a soft thud on the table as he smiled, in such a self-deprecating fashion that you couldn’t help recoiling from him.

“Why wouldn’t you? I was moving to Pittsburgh, you were going to LA. We would have barely seen each other, and you deserved better than that. You still do. I mean, you know how much of a mess we were that year anyway, right?” He rambled, brows knitted together and mouth hung open. His elbows were resting on the edge of the table, hands palms-up towards the ceiling. He’d asked it like it was a rhetorical question but he was looking at you so intently you had to swallow your mouthful of tea and start talking.

Your mind had been running away with you, spitting counter-arguments for nearly everything he said, but it seemed to keep wanting to come back to the fact that he so clearly just assumed you’d reject him. 

“Did it not occur to you that maybe we were such a mess because of what happened?”

“I thought you didn't remember?”

“I didn’t, but it didn’t take a genius to know you weren’t bothered about keeping in contact with me. I wrote you emails and I got one-word answers – maybe even a full sentence if I was lucky; I called but you either didn’t answer or you cut it short because you had to go to practice. You never called back. On my birthday, the first one away from my family, you never called. I didn’t get anything from you when I got a card from your parents without your name signed because they’d just assumed you’d have written one yourself. For about nine months, the most I heard or saw of you was through the TV.” You inhaled sharply, a sudden burning sensation behind your eyes. That first year was honestly pretty awful for you when it came to Sid. What you’d told him on his decking a few days ago had been true, every single word of it. You’d agonised over every single possible thing that could have happened to change it, and for some reason the realisation of why he’d done what he’d done hit you rather emotionally, “You did all of that because you didn’t believe me when I said I never remembered what happened, didn’t you?”

His hands fell to the table, his expression softening into one of sheer guilt, “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, “I really…I didn’t know, I thought it was what you wanted.”

You huffed a bitter laugh, suddenly cold, and right as though it had been scripted, rain began to splatter against the window panes, the sky now an overcast, stormy grey, “When have I ever pretended I wanted something if I really wanted the opposite?”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, “Never.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer, and took a rather angry sip of tea, ignoring the uncomfortable burn. There was still so much you wanted to know, so many questions you wanted answers to, but at that moment: looking through the window of the back door to see nothing but dark skies and heavy sheets of rain battering your house, there was only one thing that you could really think of.

“While we’re here,” you started, voice lowering almost as though you were anticipating hearing something you weren’t going to like, “Can we talk about your first Cup win?”

Your fingers were back to tapping anxiously against the porcelain of your mug, and the heavy silence broken only by the rustle of his rain jacket was enough of an answer to let you know how this was going to go.

He inhaled, and you risked a glance at him across the table. His eyes were open, but barely, and it looked as though this conversation, or the last few minutes at least, had exhausted him. He suddenly had bags under his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy. He wasn’t smiling but he nodded anyway, face pale and hands beginning to tremble slightly. 

Sid wasn’t one to ever really get emotional about anything. You’d only seen him cry a few times in person, but nearly every single one of those occasions was for something good: a Cup win, a house-warming party in the pantry after he’d moved into his new-build, saying goodbye to his parents at the airport. 

This was entirely different, though. It wouldn’t entirely shock you if he walked back out of your door with a few grey hairs.

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” You eyed his pale cheeks and trembling hands wearily.

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, before inhaling and casting a quick glance at your cupboards, “Yeah, I’ll get it though, you’re sick.” And then, almost as if something else had occurred to him when he went to push himself up off the chair, he turned back briefly, “You’d tell me when you want me to leave, right?”

The barest of smiles appeared on your face, and you nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

You watched him manoeuvre through your kitchen, flicking the kettle on and reaching to take a mug out from one of your cupboards, as well as taking a tea bag out of the little box you kept them in and shaking the dust out of it, the bag landing in the mug with a soft plop. He turned back when the kettle was still boiling, hands crossed over his chest and standing against the countertop right in front of you.

There was something on his mind, you could tell. There was a high probability that it was something relating to this Cup Incident, but there was something almost impatient about the way he kept shooting an angry glance at the kettle, as though it wasn’t boiling fast enough for his liking, that had you perhaps thinking there was something else playing on his mind.

“What?” You asked, swallowed anxiously.

His head snapped in your direction, eyes wide with alarm and his mouth opened and closed a few times, thoroughly confused, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you want to.”

He closed his mouth just as the kettle clicked, and there was a brief moment where he turned his back to pour the water into his cup, but before you could even say ‘hockey’ he’d spun on his heel to face you again, “I just…We’re gonna be okay after this, right? I don’t want you to not be in my life, I don’t want to not be in your life.” He sighed, “I don’t want this to break us.”

Us. 

Us.

It echoed in your mind, and despite agreeing with almost everything he said, all you could offer by way of reassurance was a sad shrug, “I don’t want that either.”

He nodded, before finishing off his tea and grabbing a protein bar from one of your drawers and sitting back down at the table, shedding his coat and laying it neatly over the back of the chair.

Neither of you said anything for a good minute. It might have been because Sid was munching on that protein bar, but you really wanted to put the matter off for as long as possible just in case what he said did become true. Prolonging a possible heartbreak – an entire era, person and a piece of your identity – from ever occurring, even if it was only hindered a few more minutes.

It seemed, though, he took the liberty of deciding exactly when to start talking.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “this is about the second kiss, isn’t it? My Cup day.” His tone was firm, but there was a hint of sombreness hidden somewhere.

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your mug. Your knees were still tucked to your chin, and technically Sid was sitting to your left, you still choosing to sit on the chair sideways and face the window instead. You were spending an awful lot of time staring at him though.

You spun, feet hitting the floor and mug clinking on the surface of the table. 

“I’m gonna ask a few questions and I just want you to answer honestly, okay?” You asked, inhaling a deep breath and choosing to ignore the thundering heart rate.

He nodded, leaning forwards in his chair in anticipation.

“We were both pretty drunk, yeah?”

“Correct.”

“Nobody saw, correct?”

“Correct.” He was starting to smile.

“I leant in first,” you started, voice shakier than you’d intended, and despite moving so you could see him without giving yourself a neck cramp, you found it almost impossible to be able to look at him. You’d kept some of this hidden from yourself, locked away in a bottle somewhere in the floorboards of your mind – completely inaccessible, even to yourself. To bare them aloud for the very person who shared the secret was nothing short of absolutely terrifying, “but then I stopped, right?”

You couldn’t tell if he was hesitating or if he was struggling to remember the event that had been burned in your mind for so many years, yet you still couldn’t look at him. Not even when his fingers slowly inched into your line of sight, seeking to touch your own hand still wrapped around your mug.

You didn’t move. It might dissuade him from touching you – you hoped it would because you weren’t entirely sure if you’d be able to admit all of this to him if he did.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, and his fingers dropped on top of the table, tapping silently.

“Then you…made the move.” You struggled not to cringe at your wording of it, eyes screwing shut before peeking open again, just in time to hear him answer. You hadn’t asked it as a question, but he took the hint anyway.

“I did.” 

You paused, thinking. There weren’t many times you’d had to ask for unadulterated honesty when it came to Sid: most of the time he gave it to you anyway, but when it came to this kind of topic – you, it seemed, especially in the more romantic sense than simply lifelong friendship – he always kept his cards to his chest, never really revealed anything too damning.

But you’d asked for his honesty, and the least you could do was reciprocate that. It wouldn’t hurt to also milk it a little.

“I wanted to kiss you.” Want to kiss him, “Did you want to kiss me?” Your voice was higher than you’d like it to be, still a little hesitant and unsure. It somehow all felt unnatural, like scaling a foreign terrain for the first time. You couldn’t quite find your feed, where you could or couldn’t stand that would be safe and efficient.

You risked a quick glance at him. And oddly found you couldn’t quite look away. He still had that one hand almost outstretched towards you on the table, but his other was wrapped safely around his mug, still billowing vapour. His cheeks had flushed since he’d had something to eat, but it was his eyes that you couldn’t peel yourself away from.

He was looking at you, right at you, with something you’d never seen before. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was soft without being too gentle, firm without being angry or aggressive. The corners of his mouth were downturned in a sort of sad, melancholic smile, too, and you’d never seen him look at anything else like that – anyone else – apart from when he’d be getting ready to serve a big milestone on the ice.

You’d seen it when he’d put on a gameday suit for his 500th game, you’d seen it when he’d clocked the family in the box at his 1000th game. It was appreciation, gratitude. There was a third answer lurking in the back of your mind, but you refused to acknowledge it for the sake of not getting ahead of yourself.

One question at a time, one answer at a time, only look at the facts.

“Yeah.” The answer flew out of his mouth barely even half a second after you’d looked at him, and he broke into a cheeky grin, quickly ducking his head to his chest to calm himself.

He inhaled, eyes closing briefly before turning back to you with a straight face, and this time it was you breathing an amused laugh.

“Yeah, I wanted to kiss you.” He repeated, nodding for you to continue.

There was one question left. The reminder of it was enough to melt any previous traces of a smile off your face, and instead your mouth twisted at the corner, pulse humming in your head with dread.

“Why did you blow me off the next day when I said we needed to talk?”

His eyes focused on something behind you, and his mouth flattened in a line, self-deprecating and devoid of any true emotion, “I saw it going two ways: you were gonna reject me, or we were gonna do something about it. The way I saw it, I thought you’d already rejected me way back when – I know now that’s not the case – so I wasn’t really scared of that. The thought of it stung but…”

You frowned, “You were scared of me not rejecting you?”

He nodded, “I could never have asked you to sacrifice your entire life just to make me happy. You had a career, a house you’d just bought, friends, you were close to your family. I wasn’t gonna make you choose between all of that and – and just me, was I?”

Your face seemed to crumple sympathetically before you could even control anything. Everything he’d just admitted was nothing short of a testament to his character and who he was, no matter how…you wanted to say he was selfish for choosing for you, and a small part of you believed that, but he was also right. You had everything he’d just listed, and it would have been upsetting to move away if things progressed further and ‘got serious’, but it wasn’t like you would have been completely isolated, either.

He spends a good portion of his time in Pittsburgh, that’s true, but he spends his entire off-season at home in Cole Harbour. An entire four to five months, almost half a year.

You shook your head, hands unclasping from your mug to rest at your temples, “Okay…I kind of get where you’re coming from, but did it ever occur to you how much you had to sacrifice to get to where you are?” 

He blinked.

“You’ve earned the right to be selfish, especially when it comes to me. I mean, sure, I have a life here, I love it, but I never wanted to stay here. That was never my plan. I wanted to play hockey as a career, I wanted to travel and experience things, but that wasn’t what happened. I’m constantly missing a life I never even got to taste and I guess…I guess I’m kind of miserable because of it? I’m grateful for what I’ve got, but it won’t ever equate to what I wanted for myself. I love hockey, I love this camp, but I love seeing you just as much, I always have. It meant something to me.” You hesitated, “You mean something to me.”

You searched his face for a reaction, and it might have taken a few seconds for what you were saying to sink in, because his eyes suddenly went glassy and his jaw clenched. He couldn’t look at you for a while, and he kept sniffing.

You hoped more than anything he wasn’t actively catching your cold whilst you waited for him to say something.

And then: “I mean, for what it’s worth, you mean everything to me–”

“It’s not a competition.”

***

You were lost.

Or, at least, from Sid’s perspective you were: he was standing near the boards on the ice, keeping a close eye on the kids playing the shooting drill he’d set up for them, and he truly was watching them…he just couldn’t exactly help it when his eyes would wander curiously and scour the rest of the ice, practically desperate to drink you in. Wherever you were. He couldn’t see you, and it was getting to that point in the day where he wasn’t sure if that meant you’d left the ice to supervise the locker rooms and talk to parents or if he just wasn’t looking properly (again: he had to watch a bunch of kids with knives screwed to their feet).

See, it had been three days since you’d both sat in your kitchen and mulled things over, uprooting what you both thought to have happened when you were younger and twisting everything into a more truthful, honest version (he admittedly spent the rest of the day in bed; he was so emotionally drained he actually forgot to feed Sam until she started barking relentlessly at him) of events. 

Did he know where you stood with each other now? Not entirely, but he knew you were both thinking about it. That was a shock and a half to have uncovered on a Wednesday evening.

Did he know what he planned to do within the next few weeks? Kind of.

Had you actually seen or spoken to each other since that day? Not apart from group settings: you’d taken another day off to recover from that little bug you’d caught – of which Sid had managed to avoid catching – and the past two days including this one were full of nothing but red cheeks and a peculiar affinity to wrestle a smile off both your faces if you even so much as looked at each other. 

It was a pretty big switch-around from last week, but he welcomed it with…well, he’d honestly never been happier or more excited to be on the edge of starting something with you. He’d thought about it often before, mostly as a weapon to torture himself with when he was already upset over something, remind him of another failure – only that one had been personal and about his life, not anything to do with hockey. It always used to sting more.

He sighed, “Hey, Ryan, try gripping the stick a bit lower, you’ll get more control on your shot next time, ‘kay? Yeah, just like that! Poppy stop poking people in the face with the stick please, I know you find it funny when it gets stuck but it could poke someone’s eye out.” The culprit in question sadly dropped her stick to the ice, and Sid didn’t even have to be near her to know her bottom lip was sticking out in a pout “Thank you.”

It was as Evie pushed forward on her skates with a puck at her feet that something whacked Sid softly on the bum with enough power to send him trailing forwards slightly, but he didn’t take his eyes off the girl in front of him, who sent a powerful slap shot towards the goalie, and the puck couldn’t even be seen until a ding! echoed in the back of the net. Sid huffed a laugh, “Wow, Evie, that was incredible! Keep it up.”

She flashed him an awkward thumbs up, the gloves interfering with the action, and Sid mirrored it before finally turning his attention to a rather beloved blonde. Nate’s brows were halfway up his forehead, mouth contorted like he’d also just breathed a quiet ‘woah’ under his breath, and when he registered Sid was even looking at him, his face melted into one that had become rather synonymous with another person in his life. Nate always smirked when he was about to bring you up to Sid. There were a few occasions where he’d read the room and approached the topic with a bit more consideration, but it appeared this time was no different to usual.

“Kind of reminds me of a certain someone when they were that age, huh?” 

Sid clenched his jaw, trying not to give away just how true that statement really was, before muttering a quick, “You’re too young to have known what she was like at that age.”

Nate made a sound that came from the back of his throat, a short huff of laughter passing his lips, “Dude, you’re so easy to read.”

Sid shook his head, “Next!” Another kid skated forward, and both professionals watched as the goalie caught the puck safely in their glove before chucking it across the ice in their general direction.

“Hey, if you want to skate around for a bit, I can watch this drill.” Nate said, intercepting the puck and adding it to the small pile that had slowly been accumulating next to the boards.

Sid frowned, a crease forming between his brows, “Why?” He drawled, rather suspicious of the sudden generosity.

He had a feeling he knew what it was about, but he wasn’t going to speak ahead of himself and make matters worse – Nate already had enough teasing material when it came to his silent pining.

“It’s pretty obvious you’re distracted and it’s been killing me and Taylor watching you. She’s over there,” Nate lifted his stick, pointing to the opposite side of the rink, where Sid could only just now make out the back of your head. He had no idea what had caught your attention so much as to have your back facing the ice– “There’s a little kid on the other side of the glass with a mini-stick. She’s been pulling faces for the past five minutes, and I just thought I’d warn you before you…y’know–”

“Nate, what the eff?” Sid hissed, watching wearily for any kids overhearing. 

“I’m just kidding. Kind of.” He grinned, “Go say what you need to say and then come back.”

Sid rolled his eyes, but still patted Nate gently as he skated by, “Thanks.”

Nate just shook his head, waving him off, and Sid took that as his signal to skate away, ignoring the undoubtedly humorous glance Taylor was giving him. It was bad enough that they’d noticed what he was doing at all, let alone to have it pointed out right to his face. 

He pushed loose pucks out of the way, skating right around several different drills before crashing into the boards right next to you, his face pressed against the glass to see…three different dribbling toddlers staring up at you both. One had an armful of teddies, the other was wearing a Pens PJ set and the final one was holding a mini stick, the ball left forgotten behind them.

You didn’t even need to turn your head from where you’d leant it against the glass to know who it was that had rather abruptly pulled up beside you. Not only was the side of his face in your peripheral vision enough, but the faces of the parents sitting in the seats were enough to go by. Everyone seemed to sit straighter, smiles a little bit wider at the sight of their local boy interacting with a small herd of toddlers who obviously had no idea who he was.

Except…the kid with the mini stick dropped his fingers from his mouth, stick lazily pointing in Sid’s direction, and even through the glass you could make out the vague words of "Siddie Cosby!” and the excited smile on his face.

Sid waved, spinning the cap on his head the other way around so he could also press his forehead to the glass, and you laughed softly, breath fogging up the panes for a brief moment. The sound had him tilting his head slightly so he could look at you.

He wasn’t sure if he was smiling before he’d turned – he had to have been, though, surely? – but he felt himself smile, if not more than he had been. It was unconscious, like a reflex made worse because you were just so infectious to him.

“Hi.” You muttered lowly, catching him out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t turn your face away from those kids, still pulling funny faces no matter how demanding of your attention he was. You could look at him all you liked later, but for these kids, their moment was this moment.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. Really, you just felt a little too shy looking at him with all those people watching from the stands.

“Hi.” He grinned, also turning his attention back to the kids. The one with the hockey stick suddenly banged on the screen right in front of him, and even despite his quick reflexes, he couldn’t help jumping at the sudden noise in such close proximity.

The kid just giggled, and when Sid cast his eyes to the seats, heart racing in his chest, some of the parents were trying to hide their own laughs behind their hands. 

He almost forgot he had an audience.

His tongue darted out nervously to wet his bottom lip, and he felt you look at him rather than saw you do it, “Are you coming to my birthday party tonight?”

There was a brief silence between you both, and you struggled to hold in a laugh as Sid registered what it was that he’d just said. His eyes closed and he leant his forehead against the glass, sighing hard enough to fog it up.

“Yes.” You answered, tone full of amusement. 

His eyes opened and he twisted his head, still resting against the glass, “Can I pick you up at five?”

You blinked.

His party starts at seven.

It was probably the easiest yes of your entire life.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Might be weird to ask but petplay? I just think certain COD men *cough cough* soap *cough cough* would be esp good as dumb puppies y'know?

COD petplay headcanons

Little do you know anon, I enjoy petplay, so this is no weird question at all. And you are so right. Petplay COD be upon ye.

Ill be going on holiday all of next week, so if you guys are fine with shorter replies i can write some on my phone, let me know what you think.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap is such a good pup, kind of a brat sometimes but its because he wants your attention. You’ll catch him crawling around with your clothes in his mouth or half crawled under the kitchen table, his lower body still sticking out as he chews on something he shouldn’t be chewing on.

Whines loudly and paws at your leg for attention any time you aren’t paying attention to him. Can’t you see how good he’s being? How tempted his tummy is when he rolls onto his back? Don’t you wanna rub it?

The type to crawl around in a jockstrap, a harness, a collar, a puphood and pup gloves. Don’t forget the plug with a tail attached so he can wag so prettily for you, or so it can wag all over the place when he’s feeling playful.

Sadly, you’ll have to punish the poor pup on the regular, he makes a mess and can’t keep himself from humping your leg or crawling onto the furniture to lick and bite at you. Its not unusual to find him humping pillows in your bedroom, whining for you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Hes more calm than the others, but don’t expect that means he’s less of a troublemaker. Will steal your keys or your clothes and hide them under the bed, or under his dog bed so that you can’t leave. Will chew on your belts and throw your laundry all over the place.

A whiner too, has this warbled pathetic sounding whine he lets out when you tell him to stay still and quiet so you can work, but settles down if hes allowed to wrap around your feet. It always ends up with him chewing or licking your ankles though.

Wears a getup similar to Soap, with the jockstrap, harness, hood and gloves. Likes how it makes him dependent on you as his master to take care of him. Sometimes he just gets home from a mission, puts on his hood, and lays down with his head in your lap to calm down from the day.

Tries to be more sneaky when he’s horny, like subtly grinding into the floor or his dog bed, or sitting down and wiggling in his spot so he can move his plug around inside him. You always catch him though, since he starts that warbly whine when he gets close but can’t finish without you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The most well-behaved pup, think like a well-trained military dog. Always standing straight on all fours, back straight, head lifted, and chest puffed out. He soaks up any praise you give him with a gruff bark and a small wag.

Doesn’t regularly whine, is more of a barker or growler. He growls the most if there are other pups around that try to get close to you or play with him, as he’s always standing on guard in front of you. You always have to muzzle him around other pups cuz Ghost does nip at times, especially when other pups are acting up and he needs to correct their behavior.

Tends to do play either fully dressed in his military gear, just a tail strapped to his belt and a customized hood with his skull paint. Or fully naked, only wearing maybe a harness, a spikey collar, his hood, his tail, and a cockcage unless you need it off.

If Ghost is in the mood, you’ll invite other pups over (unless you are poly and have multiple partners who are pups) and Ghost will assert himself as the alpha amongst them. This is where you take the cage off him so he can push down the other pups and take them. He will always arch his back for you though, or roll onto his back and spread his legs with a tiny barely audible whine for you.

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

A very quiet pup and doesn’t act up much, tends to be more on the chill side. Hes even allowed in the furniture since he wont mess it up like others, and likes to curl up beside you with his head in your lap.

When hes feeling it though, like if you’ve been apart for a while, he might start growing antsy. Crawling around in front of you or sitting right by your feet and letting out tiny barely audible whines. It always ends up with him pawing at your knee and looking at you with the most lethal puppy eyes ever.

Doesn’t wear as much gear at the others, I don’t think he would enjoy the gloves that make his hands unusable, and the hood might feel too restrictive to him. Instead hed just resort to walking on his knuckles, wearing a headband with ears, and maybe wearing a belt with a tail on top of his boxers.

A licker, he doesn’t say much, but you will know he’s truly in the mood when he starts licking you all over. Licking at your hands, your legs, your torso, slobbering all over your pants and crotch until you open your belt and give him what he wants.

Phillip Graves

Another troublemaking pup, a brat. Rips up pillows and gnaws on your belts and wallet. The type you have to play tug of war with for your belt as he growls and yips, wagging his tail and drooling on the floor.

The kinda pup you’ll have to spank and punish in other ways, not out of this world to put him in a cockcage or crate for the night if he’s acted out way too much. He enjoys it very much though, so it’s nothing he hasn’t asked for himself. Graves has probably come up with some of the punishments himself.

Hes fully geared up, hood, gloves, tail and all, except he wouldn’t wear a jockstrap, just fully naked expect for the pup parts. Hes not always wearing a cage as its only for punishment, so you can catch him grinding against stuff sometimes.

The most effective punishment for him is overstimulation, laying him across your lap and jerking him off until he’s whining and writhing and shaking, where after you’ll let him cuddle against your chest after cleaning him up, praising him and giving him good aftercare.

[softfem-dom]

just being delulu about hybrid!outsiders au, you're just a young wealthy woman that has her life solved thanks to being the heir to your father's succesful bussiness. You just have to sit around in your desk, in your huge countryhouse, and do some stupid paperwork. You just have to sign and aprove and decline and repeat, easy, right? Well, you are really starting to dislike the utter silence in your house. Everything is too quiet and too empty and you sure as hell ain't gonna have kids anytime soon without a partner. So you head up to the locel hybrid kennel, because it's better than adopting and paying for pure breed dogs when there are ones about to be sacrified. And then, once you enter, you're greeted by the sight of a lot of hybrids in pitiful conditions. Mostly males. So you head up to the closest worker and ask "which is the one that is closer to being sacrified?" and the man simply points towards a small cage with a tan-skinned hybrid (that looked scared out of his mind) "that one" he replies nonchantaly.

So you go and try and adopt that stray Greyhound hybrid, named Johnny, only for other dogs to start barking at you. Seemingly, to get Johnny you had to get Dallas—a Canary Mastiff—. And to get Dallas you had to get Two-Bit—a Siberian Husky—. And to get Two-Bit you had to get Steve—a Weimaraner—. And to get Steve you had to get Sodapop—a Golden Retriever—. And to get Soda you had to get Ponyboy—a Belgian Tervurem—. And to get Ponyboy you had to get Darry—a German Shepherd—. Basically, they were an inter-breed pack and either you got them all or you got none. And, against your better judgement and because you couldn't just let them be sacrified —because you were sensitive like that, damn—, you ended up taking them all in.

—Wich was at both the best decission of your life and the worst mistake you've ever made—.

,,

Darry was goddamn glad you had agreed to take them all in, mainly because you were more-or-less his age and he was no longer the only figure of authority in the group. He was the most helpful, often offering to help you wash the dishes or cook lunch.

Johnny was the most shy one of them all, he had a guarded nature and it seemed something had happened to make him all-the-more anxious and wary around new people. However, he seems to be taking a liking to you by the way he usually drops on his knees under your desk whenever you're working and rests his head on your lap —more often-than-not playing around with your skirt or pants—.

Ponyboy was the youngest, but surpsisingly not the most hyper despite still being practically a puppy. He's very smart and will often correct you just to (affectionately) get on your nerves, he also likes to read your books so you better keep anything with inapropiate content out of his reach if you don't want an earful from his brother Darry.

The most hyper price is won by both Sodapop and Two-Bit, they're just two overeager hybrids that are completely ecstatic about living in your house —often sticking their noses where they shouldn't, but oh well. Soda is very hyper, constantly orbiting around you and asking about everything you do —even when you're just cooking and he has seen Darry cook plenty of time before, he just wants you to talk to him—. There are no thoughts™ inside his pretty head, and also the most reactive to praise. Just slip in a "good boy" or "such a good job!" and he's melting into a puddle of goo in the floor, tail wagging furiously. Two-Bit is hyper too, but more on the restless side of the spectrum. He just needs distractions, put on mickey mouse on the TV or give him a newspaper to tear apart and he's all good 👍.

Steve is more.. on the reserved side, a little more grumpy and stubborn —and the only one to have ever flared his teeth at you—. It's not that he doesn't like you, at the contrary:; he damn loves you for taking the whole gang in, but that's just his personality. He'll show how grateful he is by helping you out in subtle things, like picking up the toys from the others and placing them all in one place so you don't go crazy when it's time to put them in their box, or by making sure no one —Dallas— steals anything personal from you.

Dallas is the biggest deal out of them all though, he's just completely unhinged. He doesn't follow your rules and is constantly going out of his way just to do specifically what you told him not to —thank god that Darry's there to keep him in his place from time to time—. He's a total bastard, and is always being a bitch about things and also always saying comments about your body and how hot you are. Also you're pretty sure a few panties of yours have gone missing.. But, in the end, at least your house is not empty anymore, neither silent, constantly echoed in: "mommy!" that's Johnny. "ma'!" that one's Steve. "mommaaaa!" that's Ponyboy complaining about something, no doubts. "miss mommy!" those two are, no doubt, Two-Bit and Soda. "mama~" that damn sing-song tone is Dallas'. And yes, Johnny, you can read him a book even though he's clearly able to do it himself. Yes, Steve, you know where his shirt is, but he can't go around shirtless like that.Yes, Ponyboy, you can give him a can of coke even tho he's obviously able to get it himself. Yes, Soda and Two-Bit, you can put the channel in which they stream mickey mouse™ even if they already know which it is. And yes—oh, actually no, Dallas, you won't shower him, he can do it himself.

SORRY THE DELULU HIT HARD 😭

[shadowrinrin]

Mine.xoxo - Jay Descendants

Summary: You and Jay (Descendants) are friends with benefits and are with each other most of the time but when Uma and her crew came to Auradon to help Mal for the week you and Harry Hook started getting close and Jay was jealous even Carlos and his pet talking dog Dude noticed it, so he had to remind you who you belong to

warnings: Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. Dirty talk. Foreplay

Note: Yall this is my first time it might not make sense but yk oh well

╭──────────────────────────────.★..─╮ Like a Harley in the wind, got you bragging to your friends the way you ride ╰─..★.──────────────────────────────╯

In the vibrant heart of Auradon, where the castle sparkled like a jewel against the brilliant blue sky, the air crackled with excitement and tension. You, the daughter of Mother Gothel and Jay, the effortlessly charming son of Jafar, had a relationship that was anything but ordinary. Friends with benefits, you spent most of your time entwined in each other's lives, sharing laughter, secrets, and a few heated moments that ignited more than just friendship but was there need to stop the tension? Yes.

"Hey, Harry," I called out as I tossed a pillow at his retreating form. He was already halfway out the door, his messy brown hair sticking up in every direction from our impromptu pillow fight. His blue eyes glinted with mischief as he caught it mid-air, tossing it back at me with a grin.

We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, growing up in the shadow of our parents' legendary rivalry. Jay and I had always had a thing for each other, but our friendship with Harry had been a constant in the ever-changing tides of our lives. His cheeky banter and the way he could make me laugh when I was feeling down had become a source of comfort and strength. Our friendship was a safe haven, a place where I could be myself without the weight of expectations.

But when Uma and her crew arrived, something shifted. Harry's usual flirtatious glances turned into something more intense, his smiles reaching deeper into my soul. We found ourselves spending more time together, laughing louder, sharing secrets that seemed too precious to be whispered to anyone else. He'd lean in closer when we talked, and I'd catch myself inhaling the faint scent of the sea that clung to him, a reminder of his pirate heritage. Our eyes would meet and linger for just a beat too long, sending a thrill through me that was entirely new.

Jay noticed the change immediately. His easy going demeanour grew tense, his jokes less frequent. He'd watch us from across the room, his eyes narrowing when Harry's hand would brush against mine, or when we'd share a knowing smile. Carlos and Dude, ever the observant duo, picked up on it too. They'd exchange glances that were as clear as the neon signs in the Isle of the Lost. It was as if they were silently communicating their concern over the shifting dynamics of our friendship.

Carlos, noticed the shift. With Dude, his loyal dog, wagging his tail beside him, he approached Jay, who was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you and Harry lounging on a nearby bench.

“Hey, man, you good?” Carlos asked, worry creeping into his voice.

Jay's eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah, just watching.”

“Watching what? You mean watching her flirt with Hook?” Carlos shot back, exasperated. “You know she’s with you, right?”

“Is she?” Jay replied, a hint of bitterness lacing his words. “Because it sure doesn’t look that way.”

Dude barked, as if to punctuate the point, trying to bring some levity to the situation. Carlos sighed, rolling his eyes. “Jay, you need to remind her who she belongs to,” he said, more serious now. “It’s obvious she likes you. Just… show her one of these days.”

One evening, I stumbled upon Jay in the training room, sweat beads glistening on his forehead as he parried with a dummy. The clanging of metal on metal filled the air, echoing off the stone walls. His movements were sharp, agitated. Harry had just left after a particularly flirty conversation, and the tension in the room was palpable.

"Couldn't stay away from the lovebirds, could you?" Jay quipped without looking up from his training.

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic tone. "Don't be ridiculous, Jay," I said, leaning against the archway. "We're just friends having fun."

Jay stopped abruptly, panting slightly. He turned to face me, the practice sword still in hand. "Friends, huh?" His eyes searched mine, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. There was something in his gaze that made me want to confess every little thought I'd had about Harry. "Is that all it is?"

He took a step closer, and the scent of sweat and leather filled the air. It was a stark contrast to Harry's clean, salty scent. Jay's eyes darkened, and he set the sword down with a clatter. Before I could react, he was right in front of me, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. His touch was gentle but firm, a silent claim that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I know what you're doing," he said, his voice low and gruff. "But you can't have both of us, Y/N."

My heart pounded in my chest as Jay's words hung in the air. He'd clearly been thinking about the same thing I had been, the growing tension between the three of us. But I didn't know how to tell him that I didn't want to choose. That every time Harry looked at me with those piercing eyes, I felt a pull I couldn't ignore. And yet, Jay had always been there for me, through thick and thin.

"Jay," I began, my voice wavering slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

But before I could say anything else, Jay had grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the archway and into the dimly lit corridor. His grip was firm, almost painful, and his eyes burned with a possessiveness that was both thrilling and terrifying. He was usually so laid back, so this side of him was uncharted territory.

"Let's go," he said through gritted teeth, leading me towards the dorms. I could feel the tension in his body, the urgency of his steps. I didn't fight him; I was too surprised, too overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all.

As we approached the door to our wing, Harry stepped out of the shadows, his eyes widening at the sight of Jay's grip on my wrist. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air.

Jay's eyes never left mine. "It's nothing you need to worry about, Harry," he said, his tone laced with a challenge.

But Harry didn't back down. He stepped closer, his chest puffing out slightly. "If it involves her, it's my business," he said, his voice firm.

Jay shot him a look that could've frozen lava. "Back off, Hook," he warned, his grip on my wrist tightening. "This is between me and Y/N."

Ignoring Harry's protests, Jay tugged me along the corridor, his strides long and purposeful. We reached his dorm room, and before I could blink, he'd pushed the door open and practically thrown me onto the bed. The plush comforter muffled my gasp as I landed, and I looked up at him in surprise. His eyes searched mine, a storm of emotions raging behind them. Jealousy, anger, and something else—desire.

"What are you doing?" I managed to ask, my voice a whisper.

Jay's eyes were like thunderclouds, full of unspoken words and emotions. He didn't answer but instead closed the door behind him with a firm click that seemed to echo through the room. His hand didn't leave my wrist, and he stepped closer, towering over me. The room felt suddenly much smaller, the air thick with a mix of his scent and the anticipation of what was about to happen.

"Jay, please," I murmured, trying to sit up, but he was having none of it. He leaned over me, his face a mask of determination.

"You need to remember who you belong to," he said, his voice a low growl. His hand slid from my wrist to my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw with a firmness that sent a thrill through me.

Jay's eyes searched mine, looking for something—confirmation, perhaps, or maybe just reassurance. His other hand found its way to my waist, and he pulled me closer, so that our bodies were almost touching. His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. But instead, he leaned in and whispered, "You're mine, Y/N."

The words sent a thrill through me, and I felt myself melting into the bed beneath him. He kissed me then, hard and possessive, his tongue demanding entry to my mouth. His hand slid under my shirt, and he began to trace my ribs, his touch setting my skin on fire. His fingers found my breast, and he squeezed gently, eliciting a gasp from me. His thumb found my hardened nipple and began to tease it, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my core.

Jay pulled back just enough to tug my shirt over my head, his eyes never leaving mine. He dropped it to the floor and leaned back in, his mouth finding my neck, kissing and sucking gently. I moaned his name as his hand slid down my stomach and into my pants, his fingers expertly finding my wetness. He groaned into my ear, "You're so fucking wet for me, baby."

He played with my clit, rubbing it in tight circles, making me squirm beneath him. His other hand held the back of my neck, keeping me in place as he whispered filthy things that made me blush. I could feel my orgasm building, my breaths coming in short gasps. "You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice gruff with desire. "You like it when I make you feel good."

I nodded, unable to form words as his mouth moved to my chest, kissing and licking my breasts before taking one in his mouth. He sucked hard, and I moaned, arching my back. His teeth grazed my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "Fuck, Jay," I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair. He smirked up at me, the look in his eyes dark and hungry.

He slid down my body, his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my stomach. He pulled my pants down roughly, exposing me to the cool air. He took in the sight of me, his eyes glinting with lust. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He spread my legs wider, his hand guiding himself to my entrance. "So fucking beautiful."

He didn't wait for a response, plunging into me without hesitation. The feeling was intense, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming out. Jay knew exactly what he was doing, filling me up completely and hitting all the right spots. His movements grew faster, his breathing heavier. I could feel his passion, his need to claim me, to make me his. He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I've missed this."

Jay's words sent a shiver down my spine as he continued to explore my body with his mouth. He kissed and licked my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone, making me squirm beneath him. His hand moved down to my panties, sliding them aside to expose my wetness. He groaned against my skin as he felt how ready I was for him.

"You want this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "You want me to make you cum."

I nodded, my eyes rolling back in my head as his thumb found my clit again, his other fingers sliding into me. He began to pump in and out in a steady rhythm, curling his fingers to hit my g-spot. I moaned, my body responding to his touch like it had been starved.

"Yeah, that's it," he murmured, his eyes locked on mine. "Cum for me, baby."

Jay's fingers worked their magic, his touch sending me soaring closer to the edge. His thumb flicked over my clit, and his index and middle fingers curled inside me, stroking that spot that made me see stars. I couldn't help but think about Harry, his gentle touch and sweet words. But Jay was right here, his body pressing into mine, his roughness a stark contrast to Harry's finesse.

"Forget about him," Jay growled, as if reading my mind. "I'm the one who knows exactly how to make you scream."

He slammed into me, his fingers working their magic in a way that made me see stars. Harry's touch was like a gentle sea breeze, but Jay's was a tempest, rough and all-consuming. The room spun around us as he claimed me, his words a declaration of ownership that sent a thrill through my body. His thumb circled my clit with the precision of a maestro, pushing me closer to the brink.

With a final, desperate arch of my back, I gave in to the pleasure. My nails dug into Jay's shoulders as my orgasm crashed over me, wave after wave of bliss. He didn't let up, his strokes becoming more urgent as he chased his own release. His eyes bore into mine, demanding that I acknowledge the power he held over me. And at that moment, I did. I was his, body and soul.

As the last tremors of pleasure subsided, Jay pulled away, his chest heaving with exertion. He looked down at me, his expression a mix of triumph and something else—fear, perhaps? Did he think I would reject him after this display of possessiveness? But instead of speaking, he leaned down and kissed me again, his tongue claiming my mouth as thoroughly as he had claimed my body.

His hand slid down my side, his fingers brushing against my still-sensitive skin. I felt a jolt of excitement as he reached down to unbuckle his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. He pulled out his cock, thick and hard, and I couldn't help but stare at it. It had been a while since I'd seen him like this, and the sight of him made me wet all over again.

With a smug grin, Jay lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in with one swift motion. I gasped, the sudden fullness making me see stars. He didn't give me a moment to adjust, instead starting to thrust in and out at a breakneck pace. His hips pounded into me, his movements fast and furious, like he was trying to brand me from the inside out. Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through my body, making me moan uncontrollably.

The room was filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his thrusts. I could feel myself stretching around him, accommodating his size and the ferocity of his passion. He was like a storm, unyielding and unstoppable. And just like a storm, he brought with him a sense of excitement and danger that was utterly intoxicating.

Jay's hips moved with a fierce rhythm, his cock plunging deep inside me with a speed that left me breathless. Each stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through my core, making me clench around him. His eyes never left mine, a silent challenge in their depths. He was marking me, reminding me of who I belonged to, and with every thrust, I felt myself slipping further under his spell.

His hand found my clit again, his thumb pressing down as he fucked me. The combination of his thick cock filling me and his skilled thumb on my sensitive bud was too much. I felt my orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to drown me. My nails dug into his back, leaving marks that would surely be a testament to the passion we shared.

Jay's breathing grew ragged, his eyes locked on mine. "You're going to cum for me," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "Cum for me, baby."

With a final, punishing thrust, he sent me hurtling over the edge again. My body convulsed around him, my muscles tightening as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. Jay groaned, his own release following quickly. He collapsed on top of me, his body heavy but welcome. For a moment, we lay there, panting and sweaty, our hearts racing in time with one another.

As our breaths began to even out, Jay rolled off me, pulling me into his arms. He kissed my forehead gently, his touch tender in the aftermath of our passion. He wrapped the comforter around us, his strong arms providing a warm, secure cocoon. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, soothing the tension that had built up there. He whispered sweet nothings into my ear, his voice a gentle rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

But our peaceful moment was shattered by the sound of knocking on the door. Jay tensed, his grip on me tightening for a second before he let out a sigh. He kissed me softly on the cheek. "Stay here," he murmured, sliding out of bed. He grabbed a robe from the back of the chair and slipped it on, tying it tightly around his waist.

I watched him move across the room, his muscles rippling with the aftershocks of passion. The knocking grew louder, more insistent. Jay's expression grew darker, and I knew it was Harry on the other side of the door. He'd come to find me, to check on me, and now he was about to walk into a scene that would make everything so much more complicated.

Jay pulled the comforter over me, tucking it around my body until only my head was visible. He bent down, whispering in my ear, "Pretend to be asleep, baby. I'll handle this."

My heart pounded in my chest as I nodded, feigning slumber. The knocking grew more insistent, and I heard the door creak open. Jay's footsteps approached the bed, and I could feel his gaze on me, appraising.

"What the hell, Jay?" Harry's voice was sharp, a clear edge of anger underlying his words.

Jay didn't bother to turn around, instead, he just tightened the sash of his robe and called out, "What do you want, Harry?"

"Is Y/N with you?" Harry's voice was tight with concern, a hint of anger seeping through.

Jay's eyes narrowed as he turned to face the door, his gaze lingering on Harry's shocked expression as he took in the rumpled bed and the discarded clothing scattered across the floor. "What makes you think she's here?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"I...I just...I know she was looking for you," Harry stuttered, his eyes darting to me, trying to gauge if I was okay.

Jay chuckled darkly. "She's fine, Harry. More than fine." He glanced back at me, his eyes lingering on my exposed breasts before turning back to Harry. "In fact, she's sleeping like a baby. Didn't you hear how tired she was?"

The air grew thick with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Harry's eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched into a fist. "What did you do?" he demanded, taking a step into the room.

Jay's smile was cold, the lines of his face hardening as he stepped in front of the bed, blocking Harry's view of me. "What I had to," he said, his voice a low growl. "You think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine?"

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the possessive claim he'd made on my body just moments before. Harry's eyes flicked to me, and I felt a flash of embarrassment as he took in the sight of my half-dressed form. I burrowed deeper into the covers, hoping he couldn't see the blush that was surely creeping up my neck.

Jay stepped closer to Harry, his robe gaping slightly, revealing the sweat-slicked muscles of his chest. "Back off, Hook," he warned, his voice a low growl. "You're not welcome here."

The room was a testament to the passion that had just unfolded, the air still thick with the scent of desire. Harry's eyes flicked to the rumpled bed, and his gaze grew cold as he took in the scene. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for the comforter that was barely covering my body. "Jay," he said, his voice a warning.

Jay's hand shot out, grabbing Harry's wrist. "Don't you dare," he spat, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire. "This is your final warning, Harry. Stay away from her."

Harry's eyes narrowed, his grip on the comforter tightening. "This isn't over," he said, his voice a low threat.

Jay's smile grew, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, it's over," he said, his voice laced with a confidence that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn't move from his protective stance, not even when Harry's hand hovered so close to me. "Now, get the fuck out."

Jay just smirked, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "I know," he said, his voice low and filled with a challenge. "But for now, she's mine."

With that, he turned back to me, sliding into the bed and wrapping his arms around me. His warmth was comforting, his embrace tight and secure. I could feel his heart beating against my back, the steady rhythm a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions whirling inside me. He pulled me closer, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered, "I'm not letting you go, baby."

Jay's grip was firm, but his touch was gentle, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin that sent shivers down my spine. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a soothing balm to the rawness left by our encounter. The room was silent except for the occasional clank of metal from the corridor, a distant reminder of the world outside our little bubble.