#i think deep down he doesn't believe he can or should be loved the way river loves him

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1])

(I can't believe I squeezed six entries out of this dang episode!!!)

agatha sees billy waking up and takes her usual moment to wipe all genuine emotion from her face and put on her mask. it's getting increasingly clear that this wretch of a woman is always wearing a mask and playing the larger-than-life uncaring witch she wishes she could be

not that she cares about you or anything.

billy does that thing children do. he doesn't say thank you or ask why she's crying, he asks about himself, his current troubles and fears, looking for guidance. that's the wonderful thing about a parent, they give a child a safe environment to grow and make mistakes and explore. A parent is, or should be, selfless. That billy feels safe doing this with agatha tells you he instinctively trusts her much more than he realizes.

agatha never lies to billy

and the way she's always drawn to teaching and explaining and guiding despite herself. deep, deep down agatha is a nurturing person who only ever got to nurture for a short time

I just realize agatha cannot actually say the name billy, can she? because of the sigil. so this is her going, I know it's still you kiddo, behind all that. I see some people arguing that agatha might actually think he's Nicky at first and personally I don't believe that's the case, the dialogue is muddy only to mislead the viewers before the big Wiccan reveal.

Two reasons agatha knew this was billy all along: she's had three centuries to sit with nicky's loss now. nicky is gone for good, no matter all her tricks and her pleading and her endless pit of sorrow, that is the one irrevocable fact that she will never be able to change. that is the cornerstone, the whole core of who agatha is today. she has lost nicky, she has committed unspeakable horrors to cope with that loss. she is afraid to die because nicky is on the other side and she cannot face him.

The second reason is that agatha loves billy for being billy, not just as a nicky stand-in. she was uniquely equipped to understand and empathize with wanda, and that's even truer for billy because he's a little boy and agatha's whole heart is wired and predisposed to reach out to him. she saw the miracle that was his birth, she saw first hand what chaos magic can do. this is a child flung out in the world carrying an immense power and no instructions on how to use it. he's capable of terrible things that could easily turn him into a monster and a pariah, and agatha is, besides wanda, the only person in the world who truly understands what that means. do you remember what happened to agatha at around the age billy is now? everything in her is demanding to guide and help. selfishly, because all that power would be hers to control. selfishly because he reminds her of herself and she wants to undo what her mother did to her. and selfishly because helping billy would in a way redeem what she did to nicky.

and also, selflessly. because she wants to help him grow and be successful and be happy.

billy created the Road to find tommy, sure. but what he's been doing on the Road is finding community. or rather, getting close to witchfolk to find out who he is in relationship to them, exploring the identity he was born with that he cannot express with his adoptive parents. he started with a lot of silly ideas on what witches should and shouldn't be and created trials that are, let's face it, rather stereotyped and demeaning. next trial is agatha and he is puzzling her out now, willing her to become the ideal witch and mentor he's looking for. he's doing it with the grace of an elephant in a china store, but that's just what being a kid is.

aaand the wall is all the way up and she runs away. but we made some progress there, didn't we?

oh to be a vampire and getting to bite patti lupone's neck

rio looks so engrossed and fascinated listening to lilia! rio just loves people, you know? she loves life in all its multifaceted forms, and that's not at odds with her job description at all. she is The Green Witch, she has embraced nature, which is to say life, so completely that all of it is important and precious to her. my headcanon is that as the original green witch she started ferrying souls because she deeply understood and accepted death as natural and organic and sought to help it along. it's funny, lilia is terrified of her but if asked, rio would have such a long list of things that make lilia special.

and that such a being would fell in love with agatha of all people?? god that is amazing. that is how you write a beautifully doomed epic love story. billions and billions of humans throughout history, and agatha is who caught her eye. and not because agatha is a serial killer mind you, that's just foreplay. it's because she is the most intense, the most interesting human Death ever came across. while others saw a damaged girl, rio saw poetry in her extraordinary complexity

and then, through agatha and nicky, rio experienced grief from a new point of view. Death, no longer impartial.

a wiser future Lilia pays another brief visit

and she's gone. her puzzled little face!

from being awkward and fearing her oddities to laughing with her about it. another step toward a deeper understanding, and acceptance, and love.

look at agatha's body language when she approaches. uncertain, arms crossed. these people have seen her without her mask now, openly weeping about billy

and then she puts her hands in her pockets and postures, ready to underplay things. pppft, crying? moi? you guys must have dreamed it.

alice with her big compassionate heart will never be able to think of agatha as cruel and distant again

agatha picks up rio's flower

rio looks at her

pretends she wasn't looking when agatha looks back

you could cut the damn tension with a knife

jen trying to include agatha??? man they did really see her cying fr

look how interested lilia is! I wish shows could just be 15 hours of women hanging out and chatting, no plot, just vibes

agatha glances at rio as if saying, you know exactly which scar this is. and rio chuckles because she remembers the story. THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THESE TWO. I'm going feral again.

what is this, camaraderie? community? perhaps even, dare I say it, friendship???

agatha doesn't know what to do with herself!

behold the textbook definition of 'awkward turtle'

oh rio's DETERMINED

'no you don't' 'yes I do' STOP IT YOU STUPID GAYS

agatha all casual like honey I've seen every inch of that body

just... the way they fell into a rhythm. the doMESTICITY.

lol jen's and alice's gaydars pinging at the same time. like somETHING FRUITY IS AFOOT. AND WE WOULD KNOW.

and fuck fuck fuck fuck I cannot believe I've run out of space again and I need to do a part 7

LOOK WHAT THESE LESBIANS ARE DOING TO ME (it'll be up in like an hour guys don't worry)

go to episode 4 part 7

[lokideservesahug]

Old Habits Die Hard

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Jenson Button x reader but focuses on Mark Webber x reader

Warnings: Bit of sexism (because that's reality of women in motorsports), pining, I get to revel in dramatic irony but I'm curious as to what conclusions you draw. Speculation about having children but only a dog is confirmed. One swear word, innuendos.

Notes: I wrote this yesterday + today so it's probably very bad. It still isn't the one I started with but I thought that if Jenson doesn't know events then neither should you just for now! But please let me know what you think of this! Also, this is my 1000th post I believe, so 🥳!

Summary: You and Mark are finally reunited when you're hired as a Channel 4 reporter, Toto Wolff begins to cook up a plan to get everyone's favourite Mercedes driver to return in 2025 and Jenson still doesn't know what these bloody page things are.

Series Masterlist

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

~Late 2023~

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door in front of you. You shake your head, you're a multiple time Formula 1 world champion, knocking on the door to the Channel 4 CEO shouldn't faze you. You raise your first but at the slightest touch, the door swings open. You cautiously lean forward and stick your head in the door. "Hello?"

At your words, a young, blonde woman, sat behind a desk shoots up. "Hi, Y/N right?" You smile at the woman and nod. "Hi, I'm Rachel." You hold out a hand which she eagerly takes and shakes. "Lovely to meet you, I hope I'm not too early." She shakes her head. "No, you're perfectly on time. Mr Jefferson is ready to see you now I believe." You nod and thank the woman, and head forwards the door to the left of her desk.

The first thing you notice when you open the tall mahogany door is how bright the room is. The tall floor-ceiling windows allowing a lot of light to be cast on the desk and the three chairs sat around it. As you enter the room, the bald man at the far side of the desk meets your eyes and stands up, gesturing to one of the armchairs opposite him. "Hello, Mrs Button. Lovely to meet you." You sit down and shake the man's outstretched hand." Smiling at the pleasantries. He sits down and adjusts his crisp suit jacket, allowing you to take in more of the surroundings. One key thing that you hadn't noticed yet is the fact that someone is occupying the other armchair. Someone very familiar to you.

You look away, desperate to not meet Mark's eyes. You hadn't seen him in a few years and even though you'd been fine after... that night, the relationship hadn't been the same. What was once a relationship you held so highly, became an existence where you kept to minimal contact after he left the grid, that turned to occasional birthday wished to nothing at all. You focus on your breathing, desperate to not get lost in your thoughts about the Aussie. You don't need to think like that, you've moved on and you assume he has; besides, he was the one that let the contact between you drift away despite your best efforts.

You can all but feel his eyes pulling you to pieces and when he talks in an all to friendly tone, you whip your head towards him. "Hello Y/L/N. Lovely to see you again." And as you look Mark Webber in the eyes for what must be the first time in years, you almost forgot how well you could read him (and how good he looked). You curse yourself for picking up the hurt twinge in the end of his words, hoping that it doesn't plague your mind at a later date (you know it will).

Yet still, you smile at the Aussie to your side, after all this time still finding that his presence brings you some semblance of comfort. "Hey Webber. Gosh I haven't seen you in what? Three years?" He nods, voice still holding a view into his feelings "Something like that. But uh- time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? Uh, congratulations by the way... On the family." You roll your eyes and try and ignore his voice crack, clearly showing his emotion. "The media love to go wild with that one. No one's confirmed anything. I could have a million cats for all they know and they'd still claim what they currently are."

Mark smiles at the familiarity of speaking to you so freely once again and tries not to notice that you didn't directly adress the family. He decides not to ponder on it too much, the thought of you having such a domestic life with or without the "perfect family" with someone that want him, making him feel a familiar sickness to the stomach.

"What have you been up to then?" You glance at Stan once again, who is sorting through papers, and decide to oblige Mark in the small talk for a little bit longer. "Oh you know, same old really, a bit of racing and testing here and there, travelling, getting older, nothing too exciting." Mark laughs at your words. "I feel that..." Silence envelopes you once again and you're brought back to the memory of the two of you. A place that probably isn't too far from here, 11 years ago. You interrupt the pregnant pause. "Look, I really don't want things to be awkward between us. I know we were fine on the race track after...... that evening but this is different and I don't want things to be uncomfortable."

He nods. "Yeah I dont want things to be awkward. I mean we are both grown adults, I'm sure we can handle working together." You let out a sigh of relief and go to respond but the clearing of a throat draws your attention. You turn to Stan. "So Y/N, let's get straight to the point, there's no need to mess you around. I called you in here because I want to offer you a position to become one of Channel 4's presenters for the upcoming season." Your eyes widen for a moment before you furrow your brows taking his words in. "We need someone that knows the ins and outs of Formula 1. What makes it tick. Someone that can provide insightful commentary and accurate analysis. And we all think that you'd be perfect for the job."

Well talk about an ego boost...

You let his words sink in for a moment before you point to the man on your right, slightly confused. "What about Mark?" Stan lets out a hearty chuckle and grins. "Actually, if you agree, we plan on pairing you up with Mark. Our social media team say that you've been a historically good pairing and will fair well on camera. And having both a former driver and a former WAG's perspective will really make for thrilling entertainment." His words make you freeze.

It's as if you've been submerged by a giant bucket of ice water. Former- you don't don't want to think of what he said. You feel the old media training (or lack thereof) clawing inside you, begging to escape. It would be so easy to just put him in his place... To tell yet another ignorant, knowledgeless power exactly who you were. You breathe in slowly. No, that'll be no good and he's probably confused. Heck he's the CEO for for of Channel 4, who's to say he's even watched F1 before. You try and play his words off with small chuckle - that comes out a bit too dry for your liking -. "I uh, hope I'm not reduced to that these days. I won six times the amount if championships as my husband, if anything he's the WAG." You see Mark shift in the corner of your eye, covering his grin with his hand.

Stan just waves his hand. "Oh well you know, its just a label. It's a selling point, being a former WAG gives you a certain type of insight if anything." You furrow your brows, this time in rising frustration. Is he being intentionally dense? "But I'm a former driver not WAG." You realise how harsh your words come out and try and real your hostility back a bit. "But you are right about other aspects." Stan though, finally cottons on to your growing frustration and holds his hands out in surrender. "Alright no more of that WAG talk, whatever that means." You nearly laugh at the irony but he continues "We value you for your experience and accomplishments, not just your marital status. But that and the clear drive and passion you have for the spirt is why we want you on out team."

You hum, thinking over his words. Well it would be nice to be back in the paddock, however, Jenson would also be there, is that a good thing, who would look after your dog if you were both gone? You shake your head. "How often would I appear, do you know?" "We'd like you to appear on all of our live broadcasts. However, we understand that you do have other commitments so what we usually do is put people on a trial period of six months. You do it, tell us what you think and you can decide the further steps to take from there based on your feelings but also with audience feedback as well." You nod at his words, them seemingly making sense and seeming to be a fair offer.

Well, returning to the paddock doesn't sound all too bad. You'd pretty much ignored its existence since you left, desperate to not get to attached once again and long for the feeling of going 200 mph once more. Your eyes flicker over to Mark. "How often would he appear?" Stan glances at Mark who up until this point had been quietly observing the conversation. "We'd like Mark to appear with you on all if not the large majority of broadcasts. Your individual, personal touches?" He leans back and beings his hand to his mouth in a chefs kiss, making you and Mark chuckle. "You'd have an extra something our competitors don't and we need that."

You nod at his words, well you've always pleased the Mercedes media team in the past content wise so clearly you have something there. "What about Coulthard?" Stan nods, clearly used to being asked this many questions in matters like this. "David is a valuable presenter but after working with us for so long, he wants to take a step back and have a bit less involvement this year. He's not getting any younger."

He holds his hands up in defence "His words not mine." You nod "Well can I think over things? Jenson has his own job at Sky Sports so as appealing as the offer sounds, I'll have to talk to him about it." Stan nods and stands. "Of course, take your time and think about it over the next few days." He hands you a card. "Once you have your decision, we'll be on the other end of this line." You take the crisp card and run your finger over the edge as you say goodbye to the man and give a small nod to Mark.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

~March 2024~

The familiar smells and sounds invade your sense as you make your way to the Channel 4 group in the media tent. You show your media pass and the security guard who clearly recognises you. He nods "Welcome Miss Y/L/N." Your eyes widen slightly as you smile at the man. "Thank you and it's Mrs Button but you can just call me Y/N." The security guard looks down bashfully for a moment as he expression turns more friendly. "Off course and have a nice day Mrs Button." You wish him well and carry on into the media pen. You mutter a short "Miss Y/L/N? Haven't been called that in years." But find yourself bumping into someone's side. "Oh my gosh I'm terribly sorry." A familiar chuckle makes your cheeks warm as Mark just rolls his eyes and guides you to the briefing area. And for the first time in years, it feels like old times.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The camera man gives you a two minute warning as Mark turns to you. "I'm curious as to how you fare in front of the camera Y/L-Button." You giggle at his words "Oh shush you." Mark just shrugs "What? Old habits die hard, I called you Y/L/N for years, Button is going to take some getting used to." You grin at his words (and ignore the voice in the back of your mind asking if it would take time for Mark to adjust to calling you Webber instead). "You've known me long enough to not need to call me that Webber." He just leans on a nearby pillar and grins. "Well some things don't change whether you like it or not and deep down, you're still the same Y/L/N after all of this time."

You tilt your head and respond in a playful manner. "I hope so. You still as bad at racing as you once were?" Mark feigns being hurt as he clutches his left breast. "You wound me." A distant call for the start of filming cuts across your moment and you take a deep breath in. You turn and face the camera. "I'm ready." You assume that Mark takes his place beside you because when the camera starts a few moments later, you're both ready to go.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Now enough of us talking, let's cut to David Coulthard who's currently walking down the pitlane." You breathe a deep sigh of relief as the light of the camera stops. "You alright there, Button? You look tense" You nod. "Yeah, that was just a bit more stressful than I thought it would be... and I thought you weren't calling me that." "Ah you know I'm just teasing. You were great out there, you looked like a natural." You turn to him and are suddenly hit by the realisation of how close your faces are. "Oh, thank you!" Mark notices the closeness as well but doesn't pull away. Instead opting to lock eyes with you and extend the moment further. "Any time. And if you ever need any advice on how to charm the hearts of the viewers. Don't be afraid to ask the master." Mark's smirk makes you roll your eyes. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?"

And not that your proud of it, but old habits really must die hard, especially when you find yourself glancing down at Mark's lips. Mark leans a forward a fraction more as he responds. "Why me of course!" You just raise an eyebrow but the sudden realisation of where you are and how intimate the moment is crashes into you like a ton of bricks. The thought of people looking and the memory of... that evening making you turn towards the camera, ignoring Mark.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Now the last thing you expected to do on your first day at the team was interview your old boss but you can't say you're surprised. At least it's nice to see your old team principal. "Toto!" You call his name and he turns to you, eyes widening before he hugs you. "Oh hello you, I didn't know that you were doing this now." He gestures to the microphone in your hand. "Yeah, it's a new addition." He grins as you turn to speak to the camera man, his usual strictness being put to one side for a moment, replaced with a hint of warmth and fondness at seeing his favourite driver again (not that he'd ever admit that of course).

"Well it's lovely to see you and you look lovely as usual." You scrunch your nose at the towering team principal, used to his antics over the years. "Oh shush you, I'm not here to talk about joining Mercedes or anything interesting I'm afraid." Toto chuckles but unbeknownst to you, your throwaway comment has just sparked a genius idea inside of Toto's mind that he'd determined to put into action.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Jenson stands across the paddock, just finishing one segment of the sky sports coverage for this weekend. Gosh it's already a lot and it's only the first weekend of the season. He lets out a sigh and all too easily accepts the welcoming arms enveloping him from behind. Wait- he sharply turns only to be met with your familiar face. He lets out a small sigh of relief and wraps you in a hug of his own. "Hey sweetheart." You breath in the familiar scent of him and mumble into his shirt.

He pushes you away from his chest slightly, careful to still keep you close. "Say again sweetheart, I didn't get a word of that." You roll your eyes. And pick up his hand, playing with his fingers. "I said that I just interviewed Toto and its a weird feeling. Being back in this environment in a completely different way." Jenson just nods and squeezes your hand, understating exactly how the inner conflict feels. "But I'm sure you were incredible at it, as you always are." And as you clearly appear to be excited excited the matter, it just makes the Brit grin. You meet his eyes and sigh, winding your arms around his neck. You tilt your head "Who turned you into a sap today?" Jenson just chuckles yet remains cool. "Well I can't help but also feel happy when I see you feeling so overjoyed." You chuckle and look down, the proud look in his sparkling eyes making you feel a bit shy.

You connect your lips with Jenson's (and silently thank him for stopping in such a secluded place). However, unbeknownst to the both of you, it wasn't secluded enough to shield you both from the eyes of a certain jealous Aussie.

Jenson responds to the kiss by putting his arms around your waist and you feel yourself get lost in the moment. You moan Jenson's name as you become aware if the fact that you should probably be finding your way back to the Channel 4 group but you ca6n seem to pull yourself away.

And in the same way you feel unable to pull away from Jenson's embrace, Mark feels unable to tear his eyes away from the pair of you. Jealousy and hurt bubbling in his get like a hot storm.

You finally pull away and litter a few kisses around Jenson's face "Right, I have to go but I'll see you later and I love you." Jenson grins and pulls out towards him once again. "I love you too but why the rush? Can't stay and spend a few minutes with your favourite driver." You wriggle out of his hold and leave him with a sweet "Oh I didn't know Nico Rosberg was here. Guess I have to find him now!"

Jenson just chuckles and grabs your arm as you try and walk away. The both of you ignoring the influx of sky sports and other media personnel setting up not far from you. "Not so fast sweetheart. I thought I was your favourite driver. Should I worry about being demoted?" You let out a thoughtful hum, the sound making your lips buzz for a moment. "Well, it depends... There is this one old racing driver. He's long retired now. But gosh, he's he's incredibly dashing and handsome. He commentates now but he just gets me so flustered!"

Jenson's smirk parts as his lips breaks out into a toothy grin. "Oh really? He sounds like quite a bloke! Do I need to be jealous?" You raise your eyebrows and nod "Oh yes, I'd leave my husband for him any day!" Jenson looks down in a deflated act. "Oh darling, how could you break a man's heart?" You can't control it any longer and you feel a laugh bubble out of your chest. You try and speak in between laughs but aren't too successful. "Just- If you see him, let him know that I'd love to give him a massive kiss." Jenson, fakes wiping a tear which makes your laugher turn into breathless cackles. "Such a lucky blo-" Jenson can't manage to get much more out before you're smashing your faces together once again. Desperate to not hear his band attempt at a witty come back.

You pull away and look into his eyes, the blue of them catching the light in Such an angle that it makes them glisten. "Oh look." Your soft words make his expression become more lovestruck. "There he is." Jenson grins before you reel back. "Shit... I need to be broadcasting. Now!"

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and rush away. Jenson finds himself grinning and letting out a small laugh as he watches you trail away. Suddenly, a nearby Sky Sports person laughs loudly and at the sharp sound Jenson turns to look at the man. And he could have sworn he hears the worker mutter your name under just breath. His curiosity and desire to defend you get the best of him and he taps the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, what did you say?" The worker turns, baseball cap on his head casting a shadow over his eyes that is fixed when he looks up to meet Jenson's eyes.

Jenson's tone is firm yet still polite as he continues. "I heard you mentioned someone's name. Who were you talking about?" Now Jenson will be one of the first people to admit that he was good at jumping the gun in his youth. But when someone mentions his wife's name? Well he won't allow anything but praises to be spoken about you and as it stands, the worker might as well be slandering you.

And the ground must be especially interesting because the capped man is finding everywhere to look apart from Jenson's eyes as he mutters a quiet "Mark." Jenson's eyes widen a fraction, not quite what he was expecting but he continues, trying to deem more friendly than confrontational as it stands. "That's a bit random. What about him?"

The worker now picks up on Jenson's interest and lack of ill intent and so continues. He grins slyly and the look makes Jenson feel a bit unwell "Oh I was just making a joke about how I thought your girl was talking about Mark earlier that's all. I thought she had a thing for him" Jenson's eyes widen, that's the last thing he expected the worker to say or for other workers behind the man to hum in agreement with. Jenson tries to keep his expression neutral but he crosses his arms, almost feeling a bit defenceless. "What makes you think she has a thing for him?"

The man opposite Jenson just shrugs nonchalantly. "Well she looked all excited and flirty with him earlier. They were really close and whispering." Jenson feels his heart sink for a moment. He trusts your loyalty of course he does. And he's certainly aware that you're an adult woman with your own autonomy.

Blimey, you were close with Mark first, if anything, Jenson should be happy that you're finally becoming friends again. He ignores a small nagging feeling in the back of his head, knowing full well it's only there because of other people's gossip and falsities. Jenson tries to get an answer pinpointing exactly when only to get another shrug and a generic answer claiming that it's been a regular occurrence over the past few days, in response.

Another man behind the main worker suddenly laughs. Jenson looks at the shorter, clearly younger worker and instead addresses him, head tilting once again in curiosity and confusion. "What?" The younger man just smiled "Nothing! Well I just- I grew up on you lot and for the longest time thought that Y/N and Mark were married so this is just a bit funny."

Jenson just shakes his head, the exchange seeming more and more bizarre as it continues unfolding. Gosh a few minutes ago he was just happily having a quiet moment with you and now he has to put all of these misconceptions about you to rest. Gosh this day is already tiring. "Well Y/N already talks highly of him and when you announced your engagement, like everyone else, I was shocked. I mean at least half of the Internet thought you had a polyamorous thing going on or at least a ménage-trois thing." The first man chimes in again "I mean I don't think Webber would be oppose enough having a piece of th-."

Jenson's glare could kill. Silencing all the other workers that choruses similar sentiments of rumours about Mark objecting at the wedding and other preposterous gossip. He's never known anyone to halt in their words so quickly but at his angry look, the worker realises his wrong and bows his head. Jenson tries to contain his anger at the objectification of you and instead focuses on his breathing (something you've encouraged him to also do in moments of high emotion). Jenson takes a deep inhale through his nose.

"Now if you're done talking about Y/N like that, I hope you can realise how preposterous those lies are. They're just things spouted by people with too much time on their hands and I don't appreciate you feeding into such bad words about my wife like that." As if following choreo, the sky workers nod. The main one holding up his hands, clearly quite ballsy as he adds. "Look I'm sorry man. But you have to admit you'd make a pretty attractive threesome." Jenson just raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore his warming cheeks, not even willing to entertain the thought... Not even for a moment... No, not in the slightest... Well if his brain thinks about it, its just because the worker mentioned it... He shakes his head.

Jenson speaks in a tone that'd be used to scold a child. "And no talk of that please. I'm more than happy with my girl." The man just nods again. Another worker, this time a much taller one puts a hand on the workers shoulder and addresses Jenson. "Sorry man. We'll leave all the stirring to Channel 4." At Jenson's furrowed brow he continues. "Not anything serious, they're just using Mark and Y/N's relationship as a selling point." Jenson just nods his head. Finally feeling more secure in the conversation now. "Yeah, well they love to make stuff up out of nothing."

The group lets out a collective laugh and if you were here, you'd you'd Jenson's look one of a lost puppy. "Oh you poor innocent man." One of the workers laughs "Sorry. You must have never heard of the 'Deleted Pages' that's all." Jenson shakes his head. "The delete- what are you talking about?" Hearing the sincerity of his words, the worker straightens up. "Oh, you really haven't? Uh nothing then..." The camera man calls for the workers to start filming in two minutes and the group begin to scatter. "Wait no, don't give me that. What are you talking about? What are those deleted pages, why are you all acting so weird?" Jenson doesn't have much time to get an answer though before a microphone is being thrust into his hand and he's being forced to film yet another segment.

Now you'd spoken to Jenson before about... that night. Not the ins and outs but now he's left curious. What happened and does it truly mean more than you let on but more importantly, does it have anything to do with these blimmin' "Deleted Pages."? Pages that everyone seems to know of but no one seems to know anything about. Jenson just huffs. Gosh this season really was going to be the end of him, especially if he doesn't find a way to satiate his curiosity.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, comments and especially feedback is always welcome! And I'd love to hear what you think!!!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[gotwcird]

"no! not . . . not necessarily." sure, sex felt good and she loved it when it was with him. but more than that, being with nico felt right. felt like a decision that was her's, that she understood fully. maybe that was what she was trying to combat. rectifying her past mistakes — the mistakes of a scared, unsure girl — and replacing them with the firm, real decisions she made now. she just . . . maybe went about it the wrong way. should have thought about it more deeply instead of jumping into it without any other consideration. instead of doing something she regrets. she tries her best to simplify the complicated feelings into a sentence. "i wanted you because i want you. because i know i want you. because you make me feel like me. sex or not." doesn't know if it makes any sense, but doesn't backtrack. because it's true. the type of truth that's buried deep in her chest, that she hasn't even untangled for herself yet.

star waits patiently, doesn't prod. never does. she'll wait for him for as long as possible if she needs to. it's worth it. she's a little shocked when he pulls over, not expecting it, but doesn't complain. if anything, maybe, the quiet of the car makes her feel still. it's just the two of them. no one else. she feels her chest heave with emotion when he says the words, that he wants her. will always want her. has to breathe in slowly to stop herself from letting it get away from her too fast. "thank you," she whispers, feeling the weight on her melt slowly. listens to him continue, even if it stings a bit. because he's right. knows it, but needs it to be said, for her to confront it. nico has never been her ex, and this history she has needs to stop dictating who she is. even down to her asking for what she can give when maybe, she doesn't need to sometimes.

"i . . . i understand. i never want you to think i'm taking advantage of you. and i know you said to stop apologizing, but i feel like i have to say sorry for that." she nods this time, small yet firm. the apology is much more solid than the ones before. "i think i'll be okay. i'm working on it." has been saying this for years, but for once, she truly believes it. ( thinks about that therapist moon goes to, will ask him for help. ) she hesitates, wants to ask him if she can, but stops herself. she isn't going to let this stop her more than it already has. so carefully, searching for any sign as she reaches, byeol takes the hand he had on his face. takes it in both of her's, pulls it in closer toward her. feels right, finally holding him in a way. lifts then presses his knuckles to her cheek. wants to kiss his fingers, but settles for this for now, to have him close. physically and emotionally. to feel the gap between them closing again slowly. "i like you, nico. a lot. more than i can explain. i get scared about how intense it feels sometimes. but i know it's real. and i hope you always know that."

he's glad she stops herself this time , but he hears the whisper of the apology on her lips , ready and fully formed . he waits patiently for her as she tries to form her thoughts . this is something he recognises . he knows this well himself. THEY BOTH KNOW THAT . it takes his minutes to say full sentences , after a lot of stopping and starting and mental umming and aahing . she's always patient with him . it's the least he can do to give it right back to her . " you wanted me . . . so i could have sex with you ? " he asks , slightly confused by how the two correlate . TOUCHING EACH OTHER he understands . everyday is hard . tonight was even harder . he rakes his brain , wondering if maybe by letting down some of his walls ( holding her hand , walking outside , touching her hips ) , he complicated things . maybe he shouldn't have blurred the damn lines . they said to keep work as work . he should have kept his word .

nico opens his mouth . closes it again . her requests are simple enough . he indicates again , but this time instead of turning the corner - he pulls the car over . nico inhales deeply , letting the noise wrinkle the air between them before he turns to face her . his eyebrows dig down , careful and unsure as he drinks her in . she looks even smaller than usual . more unsure . YOUNG . it makes his stomach flip slightly . just when he thinks they get on even footing , on even ground , something disrupts them again . but this is what being in a relationship is . you do the work . you put in the time . YOU TALK TO EACH OTHER . " i will always want you . " he tells her , voice low but genuine . " i'll want you if i see you in an hour . i'll want you if i have to wait a year to see you . " which hopefully will never be the case . nico understands that she wants his assurance , and he wants to give it to her . he needs to find the right words . the exact puzzle pieces to slot in .

a quiet , almost laugh breathes its way out of his mouth . " i don't want anything . " he says , and he means it . " this . . tonight . . it isn't about me , star . " she's always asking him about him , and he's always putting it back on her because he needs her to be her own person . he needs her to figure out what SHE wants and likes and doesn't like , too . every other woman he's been with has been so steadfast and overly confident . it's sending him through a whirl to try and get used to this , and how it's completely the opposite . he's never done this before . but star makes him always want to try . " i'm always going to be here . not just 'cause it's my job . okay ? because i want to be . " he tells her honestly . " but . . i can't be the guy you talk about you ex with , when there's stuff unresolved , which makes you upset . i can't be the guy you sleep with to make a bad memory a good one . " he exhales , puts one hand to his face , rubbing at his tired eyes . " i can't be the guy who tells you what to do . " because he ISN'T that guy . will NEVER be that guy . except , obviously , in bed . and even then , he's trying his best to get HER to be more vocal . " things are okay . " nico tells her softly . " but you gotta make sure you're okay . "

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[yuujispinkhair]

So how is no nut November going w modern boyfie sukuna? Idk if u can get him to participate but if he does I bet he makes the whole month as torturous for u as possible.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 400 Warnings: 18+, smut, creampie, praise, face shot, overstimulation, light dub-con. All characters are of age. Credit for the banner @/benkeibear

Sukuna just huffs and rolls his eyes when he hears someone mention No-Nut-November. Your boyfriend never believes in abiding rules, especially not ridiculous ones like that! Who invented that shit anyways?! Sukuna will show them how much he doesn't let anyone tell him what to do!

He makes sure to nut in you exactly one minute after midnight to say a big fuck you to No-Nut-November, so proud of himself, moaning and smirking against your neck,

"Hmm fuck yeah, feels so good to nut in my girl. What a lovely way to start November."

He's an idiot, but it's incredibly charming somehow. And after all, he also makes sure to make you nut so good that you scream his name and leave scratches on his muscular back, so why should you complain?

A sane person would let it go after that midnight fuck. But not Sukuna. Your boyfriend is a rebel. If someone tells him to do No-Nut-November, he will take it as a personal challenge to nut as often as possible this month.

You whine beneath him, exhausted from all the times he made you cum in one session, pussy throbbing, clit pulsing hotly, both your bodies sweaty and the bedsheets soaked from all your combined cum. You feel light-headed, weakly running your hands up and down Sukuna's flexed, tattoed biceps as you look up at him with your eyes wet from tears,

"Kuna... Baby, I can't go another round... it's too much."

But your pink-haired menace of a boyfriend just smirks and snaps his hips faster, meaner, going even deeper, pounding your sweet spot so good that you mewl his name.

"Aww, princess, we are going at least two more rounds."

But he turns sweeter a moment later, leaning down to trail kisses over your neck while he humps your pussy with slow but deep thrusts.

"My princess can take it. I know that. You're my good girl after all, aren't you, baby? Aren't you gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?"

Of course, you do, your pussy clenching helplessly around Sukuna's talented cock, squealing his name as your legs shake weakly, and your face feels so hot you think you have a fever as you shudder around his fat cock with the next mind-blowing orgasm.

And Kuna chuckles smugly, followed by a low groan of "Yeah, see, I knew it. That's my good girl. I love you, princess."

He pumps your overstimulated pussy full of another load of his thick cum, before giving his little Anti-No-Nut-November performance a cherry on top by nutting one last load over your pretty face this time, just to make sure.

PLEASE I NEED HIM SO BAD!! Sweet anon, thank you for sending me this!! Sukuna can always use me for his personal vendetta against NNN uwu ;)

I hope you enjoyed this little drabble!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me." 

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?" 

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

[sescoups]

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist

word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)

summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.

a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3

“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”

“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.

Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”

“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”

Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.

“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”

“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”

You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.

The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”

The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.

“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”

You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”

His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.

“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”

“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”

The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.

You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.

The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.

It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.

While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.

Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.

“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”

You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.

“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”

He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.

You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.

“What the fuck, Nonnie?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”

“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”

The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.

“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”

“So good,” he nods earnestly.

You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.

“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”

He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.

You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.

The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.

“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.

“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”

“Nice.”

“You gonna work or rest, bud?”

Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.

“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”

“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”

He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.

When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.

“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”

“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.

“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”

Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.

“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”

“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”

He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.

“Sorry. That was TMI.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”

“What about?”

Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.

“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”

“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”

“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”

His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.

“What, are you offering?”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.

You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…

The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.

“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.

“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”

You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”

There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.

He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.

“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”

You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.

Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.

He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.

His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.

You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.

“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”

Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.

One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.

“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.

The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.

You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.

“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”

“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.

“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”

You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.

His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.

“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.

“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.

“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”

You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.

Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.

“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”

You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.

“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.

“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”

The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.

His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.

You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.

“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.

“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.

“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”

You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”

His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.

Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.

“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.

He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.

“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”

“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”

“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”

He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.

masterlist

a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3

[sky-is-the-limit]

How Task Force 141 would react in a real argument with their partner (they're in the right):

Captain Price:

The way Price gets mad at you is calm, serious, and controlled. If you are looking for a shout match, you're not gonna get it with him. He doesn’t believe in yelling or making a scene, he's too old for that.

Instead, when things get heated, he quietly tells you that he’s going to step out, giving you both time to cool down and think. Usually, he heads to the pub nearby, has a drink (or two) and lets the anger settle before coming back to talk things out. It’s his way of making sure neither of you says something you’ll regret even if it means leaving you to deal in your own frustration for a while. It doesn't last long though.

❁❁❁❁

"This isn’t helping, love." Price says, tone steady despite the obvious tension. "I’m stepping out for a bit." He grabs his jacket and you can see the disappointment in his eyes. "I’ll be at the pub, just need some time to think. You should do the same." He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a flash of concern and frustration in his eyes. "We’ll talk when I get back, yeah?" The door closes behind him, leaving you in the quiet of the room.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

When Kyle gets mad, the laid-back, chill guy you know disappears. He becomes sarcastic and cynical, his words sharp and his patience terribly thin. He might roll his eyes or make you feel like your emotions are over the top, dismissing them with what he thinks is logic (according to him, of course). It’s not that he doesn’t care or he wants to upset you on purpose but when he feels like you’re not getting his point, his frustration turns into biting remarks that cut deep.

❁❁❁❁

"Oh, that’s rich-" Kyle says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because clearly, I’m the one who’s being unreasonable here, right?" He crosses his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. "If you actually listened to what I’m saying, you’d see how ridiculous this all sounds." His words hit you hard and the sting of them makes you want to shout back, even to break something but he’s already turned away, muttering under his breath before heading into a different room.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:

When Johnny is really mad, he goes completely silent. Your cheerful, talkative boyfriend just shuts down. He won’t talk, won’t argue. He just ignores you, burying himself in video games or working out until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open. He thinks it’s better to stay quiet than risk saying something he can’t take back but the silence is worse than any argument and in his ignorance, he makes you feel like you don’t even exist.

❁❁❁❁

"Johnny, can we please talk?" You ask, watching him pick up the game controller. He doesn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the screen. The silence is deafening, each minute that passes only making the knot in your chest tighter. "Johnny…" Still nothing. Hours pass like this and when he finally puts down the controller, he heads straight to bed. "I’m knackered." He mutters, not even looking at you. "We’ll talk tomorrow." But you know that tomorrow might just be the same unless you can find it in you to apologise first and make up before bed.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

When Simon gets mad, he goes back into the defensive man with trust issues you first met. He never raises his voice nor lets the argument last long. Instead, he becomes cold and distant and his usual quietness turns into a wall that you can't break through. He’ll say things that remind you of past mistakes, making you feel guilty whether you're in the right or wrong. His bitterness makes it hard to reach him and it feels like no matter what you say, he won’t budge. Stubborn bastard.

❁❁❁❁

"You think I can just forget what you said?" Simon is monotonic but there’s a harshness underneath his tone that makes you wince. "Words like that… they stick. You can’t just take them back." His eyes are cold, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he looks at you without a hint of his usual softness. "Maybe you should calm down before this gets any worse." He doesn’t move or change his expression, just stares at you blankly, making you feel shut out.

[tojirights]

I adore your work!! Do you think you could you write alastor with overstimulation or orgasm denial?

a/n: UGHHH yes 😩 requests open!

alastor is in his element when having you under his control, and he doesn't care how he has to get you there. he loves it when you submit, when you drop to your knees without a second thought. but he doesn't mind having to tie your hands above your head. it truly depends on his mood, whether he wants to see tears of overstimulation or tears of frustration.

either way, you're absolutely breathtaking spread out on the bed for him, completely at his mercy. alastor straddles you hips, pinning you in place while he works you just up to the cliff of climax with his fingers before leaning back to watch your pussy clench around nothing but air. he laughs as you try to buck him off, a deep groan coming from your chest.

"well dear, maybe next time you shouldn't be blatantly flirting with the king of hell right in front of me." he smirks, clearly not actually bothered by your attempts to get under his skin. he just enjoys denying you, he always has. there was something about watching you become more and more desperate. alastor hums to himself, dragging the tip of his clawed finger down your slit and reveling in the way you pussy pulses as you get closer to pushing inside. "you want to cum so badly, don't you?" with a whimper, you nod, forcing your hips down as far as you can while restrained.

its not enough, it just pushes his finger in knuckle deep and you groan in frustration. "i-i promise i'll be good." you plead, every nerve in your body screaming for release. alastor chuckes. "oh my, so you're been lying every other time you've said that? why should i believe you now?" his eyes darken as he adds a secons finger along his first. "i guess since this isn't working, we'll have to push your boundaries the other way." he sighs, feinting annoyance.

"let's see how many times you can cum before you tap out..."

[mondaymelon]

first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader

( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )

[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]

"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"

CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.

"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?

Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"

He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"

As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"

"Tartaglia."

The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"

The world itself seems to stop.

Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.

"...Love?"

"Mhm?"

"I- I thought you-"

"If it's with you, I'm okay."

Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.

A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.

"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ

"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"

WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.

Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.

Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.

And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.

"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.

He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"No."

"Go get something to eat?"

"No."

"Visit the... House of Daena?"

"No."

"Shall we feed the finches?"

A slight pause. "...No."

"Then... let's hold hands?"

He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.

"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.

"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.

"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"

Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."

D...Did it really?

"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ

"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."

ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-

As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.

"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.

"Arle, did something happen?"

She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.

"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"

She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."

"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."

"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"

Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"

"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.

"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ

"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"

FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"

It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-

"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.

Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."

"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"

"Appreciate" indeed.

Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"

"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."

She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.

"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[moraxussy]

You Can't Take One Without The Other

Damian Al Ghul x Twin!reader

Content Warnings: mention of the word "abuse", nothing major, and not proof read:3

Despite her seemingly cold demeanor accompanied by her unmoving stature. Talia Al Ghul is a woman—a mother that lets her hard shell peel open when it comes to what's hers—her children.

Damian Al Ghul, her prodigy, blood born assassin, but also her beloved son. So composed and calculated yet also holds a temper that it easily triggered. Trained to kill on the spot without mercy, the young boy is honed to secure any emotion that hinders his mission—the Al Ghul's mission. He was made to not let any other being get in his way, to use all means necessary as long as he's able to give expected results, preferably exceed them. Yet despite his killer instincts and apathetic front, he is a boy of value. He believes blood over all matters.  He cherishes his family to such a strong degree that he's willing to kill just to preserve and protect it. No outer force can sever his belief on this. But it doesn't stop at family. Damian adores animals and takes care of them unconditionally. It pains him to see any of those creatures hurt in any way. Which pushed him to pursue the path of veganism.

The Demon Prince, Heir to the Shadows, and Son of Assassins....

Damian Al Ghul

Damian may possess the prowess and talents meant to satisfy the legacy of Al Ghul, never forget his other biological half, his twin sister.

The youngest, Talia's sweetheart, her doll, and her precious killer. Her little girl, the same as Damian, trained to be the perfect assassin for their family's legacy and for the preservation of the world, isn't just a weapon, she is also a daughter she dearly loved with all her heart. The mother might say she doesn't pick favorites, but one might think otherwise once you see how she treats the two differently. Although tender towards both, Talia can't help but train Damian a little harsher than her heiress. If you try to argue with her about this, she would just shut you down. But deep down, all she wants to do is give her daughter the childhood her mother failed to experience while also helping her build strong walls to protect herself once their mother leaves them on their own devices to strive for independence. Of course, this doesn't make the daughter twin an ordinary girl. She also values family and cares for animals but not the same degree as her brother. Believing that animals are a resource meant for humans for which they should be treated with respect and value if one wishes to utilize its maximum potential. This contrast in stands causes quarrels between the two during moments involving any animal. Not to mention she as well possesses the  strength and capabilities that qualifies her as an excellent assassin whose efficiency in the shadows allows her to parry and counter any attack thrown to her by her foes.

The Demon Princess, Heiress to The Shadows, Daughter of Assassins, and Talia's Second Chance...

You

The Duo of the Shadows, The Successors of the Demon, The Treasure of Talia Al Ghul

Together, no enemy can stop the twins. No matter how harsh nor how inhumane the training they are put through, as long as each twin is there to root for the other, they are ready to take the abuse. In the glory of their legacy. In the name of Ra's Al Ghul's greatest aspiration.

But what will happen if a new variable is introduced to the family of demons? A man of night once again reminded of his time in the shadows. A wake up call for the Dark Knight that what happened all those years ago gave birth to consequences that he now has to bear.

Will the bat be able to handle his demons? Will a mother finally let her young fly on their own?

Notes:

Hi so this is my first time making a batman based fic. I'm still new to the community so I'm basing on just common knowledge. I really wanted to try and focus on how Damian and the reader would be in the clutches of the shadows. I'm still learning though!

[lohotine]

``Won't you kiss me again?``

Multiple x reader

Affogato, Pure Vanilla, Shadow Milk

Your first kiss with them (Ver. 1)

⚠ Proofread (but badly)

`《♡》` Affogato ------

Your first kiss with him is nearly suffocating, and his once calculating and sly nature has all but vanished.

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

Affogato is always so deceptive; in a way that makes it hard to figure out his true emotions.

Yet now, when he fails to meet your gaze and a deep blush engulfs his face, you know exactly how he feels.

It's unlike him to let his mask fall, though not unwelcomed. He is finally acting vulnerable infront of someone, though he isn't sure if it's willingly or not.

Earlier, you two were talking as per usual. He'd make some sugary remarks here and there. It was all very ordinary.

"Oh my, are those new garments of yours made from satin? What a fine choice~!" He smiled; deceptively sweet. "I do think the color suits you quite nicely."

Your gaze softened, and you'd inch closer to him.

"When you say things like that, it makes me want to fall in love with you. "

His eyes widened slightly, and his snide front seemed to falter. "I beg your pardon-?"

And that lead to your current predicament; with him blushing profoundly and struggling to meet your gaze.

"Ahaha, surely you jest my liege! You really shouldn't make jokes like that- it's not-"

"Affogato." You'd cup the side of his face and brought his gaze to you, snapping him out of his panicked rambling.

He seemed so nervous. It was... new to say the least.

You smiled softly at him. "Can I kiss you..?"

His breath hitched in that moment. "Well... yes."

You brought his lips to yours before pulling away soon after.

He averted his gaze from you. "How embarrassing. I should have been the one to make the first move..."

Was he sulking?

How cute...

`《♡》` Pure Vanilla

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

Your first kiss with him is romantic and enough to make anyone swoon, since he is ever the gentleman...

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

Pure Vanilla had invited you out to the garden, as he does routinely every weekend. Most of the time, you two merely catch up; and this time seemed no different.

But it was different.

In fact, even Pure Vanilla himself had been acting strangely this week.

Gifting items more often, finding excuses to talk with you, and even seeming to gaze absent mindedly when he thought you weren't looking.

You wondered what it was all about.

"So, how has your week been?" Pure Vanilla asked while fondling with some flowers.

You were sat on a bench nearby. Gradually, you began reciting some things about your week. Once you had finished, Pure Vanilla sat down on the bench next to you.

"That all sounds very lovely.." he noted, though his mind was seemingly elsewhere.

You hadn't noticed it when it happened, but in an instant, he had placed a flower in your hair, fingers gently running along your jaw.

"You look so beautiful..." he said, though he was musing to himself more than you. "Have I told you that before?"

You shook your head. "I don't believe so.."

He smiled softly. "Then I should say it more often."

Your cheeks began to flare, and Pure Vanilla sweetly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"May I have this kiss?" He questioned.

You nodded, and after what felt like ages, he had closed to gap.

His lips were soft against yours, and you had only just now realized just how much you fantasied about this moment.

About how it would feel to kiss someone.

About how it would feel to kiss him.

`《♡》` Shadow Milk

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

Your first kiss with him is so quick that you almost don't realize that it even happens!

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

"Wait... so you mean you've never had your first kiss?" Shadow Milk can hardly contain his laughter.

"Well yeah... what of it?" You cross your arms and shoot him a glare, as if to send some kind of warning.

Clearly he doesn't pick up on the signal.

"I shouldn't have expected any less! Why on Earth did I think you had it in you to pull?" He wipes away a fake tear.

"You're saying that as if you've ever kissed someone!"

He laughs once again.

"Of course I have. I've kissed so many people. My charm is just too irresistible!"

You furrow your brows. "Liar..."

He gasps and places a hand over his heart, acting as if he were offended. "Me? A liar? No way! Have I ever lied to you?"

...

You attempt to hold in your disappointment.

Key word: attempt.

"Oh. My. Goodness. You're honestly so obnoxious. How do people even deal with you? It's just-" you behind rambling on about how much you hate him and how if you could, you'd rid him of his ability to speak.

Shadow Milk seems to entertain it for the first minute or so before getting bored and shushing you.

"Gosh you talk a lot. Can you shut up for one second?"

You scoff. "Make me."

He smiles, seemingly accepting the challenge.

In an instant, your chin is between his fingers as he puls you in for a kiss.

It's over as soon as it began.

Your face flushes instantly and you're at a loss for words.

If it weren't for Shadow Milk's laughter, you would have thought it never happened.

"You should have seen the look on your face!"

He laughs for a little while longer before calming down.

"Well I'll let you process this, doll. See you later!" He dashes put of the door before you can stop him.

You can't look him in the eye for the next week or so.

[yumeka-sxf]

New chapter today, and even though most of it seemed to continue the silly tone from the previous one, the last few pages actually shocked me! 👀

For the first time, ANYA CONFESSED TO SOMEONE THAT SHE CAN READ MINDS! Now this doesn't necessarily mean anything crazy will happen in the series from now on, since Damian doesn't believe her (at first). But proving that you can read minds is easy to do, so the question now becomes, will Anya keep trying to prove it to Damian until he believes her? Or will she regret it later and not try to prove it, and then the plot point isn't touched on again? Regardless, this chapter definitely makes it seem like Damian will be the first person to know about her mind-reading powers.

Then there's the question of why Anya chose to confess this to Damian? I think it's a combination of a few reasons, the main one being that Damian doesn't have any connection to her family, so little risk of him telling them and thus bringing about the fear of abandonment Anya has should they find out. This might also be why she chose to tell him over Becky, since Becky already has somewhat of a relationship with Loid and Yor. The other reason could be that, as time has gone on, she's learned to trust him, at least when it comes to something like this. As hostile as he is towards her, she knows that he's not a double-crosser or a blabbermouth, and deep down he wants to do what's right. And lastly, it was the heat of a moment - her knowledge about him seemed weird so he questioned it, and perhaps at that highlighted moment, when Damian was being genuinely nice to her (since she can read minds, she knows if he's being genuine or not), she wanted to try not lying for once, just to see what happens.

Guess we'll have to wait until next time to see if anything ground-breaking comes from this...will Anya keep pursuing this, will she regret it and let Damian continue to not believe her, or will it just not be mentioned again until later? This reminded me a bit of the Mole Hunt arc where Yuri became suspicious of Loid, but the latter was able to throw him off the track. But the seed of suspicious was planted nonetheless. In this case, even if Damian continues to think Anya was lying, a seed of suspicion may have been planted in him too that could come into play much later on. We'll see!

But besides this big event, a few other notable things in this chapter was super rare soft Damian from the above page. This continues to prove what I've always thought - that Damian acts the way he does to appear "proper" in front of his peers, but when he's alone with Anya, his real feelings seep out. She's a rare person where he doesn't feel the need to put on airs around.

We also got more Henderson x Martha crumbs. Love to see it.

Also loved to see Anya getting cocky and Loid freaking out about it 😅

Overall, even though I'm not as into Damianya as I am Twiyor, I still enjoy seeing their progress, and this chapter was definitely one of the most Damianya-chapters of all~ Despite some of the "dance with Damian" challenges being a bit too silly for my taste (like, how did Emile and Ewen organize all that last minute?) the payoff at the end was worth it! Loid and Yor better get themselves together or their daughter will end up beating them in the romance department 😂

[kymerawrites]

"You're such a bloody drama queen," Simon grumbled under his breath, smoking a cigarette as he watched her pace back and forth. He didn't move an inch from his spot on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. It was always like this with her; they argue, they make up, they argue again. It was a vicious cycle they couldn't seem to break free from. He took a drag of his cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke, eyes still locked on her

"Can't you just sit still for a bloody second?" Simon snapped, his irritation getting the better of him. "You're giving me a damn headache with all that walking around." He tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest, his gaze following her every movement. He couldn't help but feel frustrated by her constant need for motion, like a caged animal.

"I could if you'd stop being such a controlling arsehole," she shot back, stopping in her tracks to glare at him. "Sorry if my pacing bothers you, but I have the right to move around in my own home." She crossed her arms, her defiant stance mirroring his.

"Your home?" Simon echoed, a mocking edge to his voice. He snorted, extinguishing his cigarette in the ash tray. "Last I checked, we share this apartment. And believe me, I didn't ask for a fidgety partner who can't sit still for two seconds."

“God for fuck sakes Simon, you make me pace this way. Can’t you see that?!” I said irritated

He rolled his eyes, clearly unperturbed by her retort. "Oh, and it's all my fault that you're pacing around like a maniac?" He leaned back on the couch, his gaze sharpening. "Maybe, just maybe, you should try taking some responsibility for your own actions instead of blaming everything on me. Ever thought of that?"

I huffed in annoyance, not backing down from his gaze. "And maybe you should stop making me so bloody irritated that I can't stand still! You're always bossing me around, like I'm some sort of property and not a person with my own thoughts and feelings."

He stood up abruptly, his tall frame towering over her. "You know damn well that's not true," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't treat you like a bloody object. I care about you, even if you can't see it. And if I come off as controlling sometimes, it's because I want to bloody protect you."

“Oh no, it’s you and your fucking lieutenant, commander whatever the fuck you are act in my space.” I scoffed

His eyes narrowed at her sarcastic remark. "Watch your bloody tongue," he warned, his tone more menacing than before. "You know damn well what I do for a living, and I don't appreciate your tone. But while we're on the subject, you could learn a thing or two about respecting your partner. Maybe if you weren't such a bloody pain in the arse all the time, I wouldn't have to step in and take charge."

That comment hit me, just a little to make me shift from mad to confused “so, if I’m such a pain to you, such a..liability why not leave me?”

He gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. "Because goddamn it, I care about you," he snapped. "Despite all your attitude and stubbornness, I can't just walk away. Believe me, I've bloody tried. But deep down, I know I can't let you go. Even if you drive me mad with all your whining and dramatics."

I turned around not to face him “you can also just say you love me.”

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He walked closer to her, his movements slow and deliberate. "I do love you, alright? But love doesn't make this any easier. It complicates everything. Because even though I love you, you still piss me off like no one else can, and it drives me bloody insane."

He grabbed my waist and hugged me from behind I just smirked “and yet I think you love all the sass and drama I give you don’t you?”

He let out a scoff, his fingers digging into her waist. "Bloody hell, you know me too well," he muttered. "Yes, there's something infuriatingly addicting about your damn attitude and all the drama you bring into my life." He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

He chuckled softly against her skin, his breath warm and tickling. "Bloody hell, you drive me wild with it. Part of me wants to strangle you, and the other part..." He trailed off, his hand roaming higher up her body, tracing her curves.

“Finish that sentence si..” I whispered

He nipped at her earlobe, his voice low and gravelly. "And the other part wants to do things that I can't even say in public." He spun her around to face him, his gaze dark and intense. "You have no idea the effect you have on me, how you make me feel. It's maddening, it's intoxicating and it's all your damn fault."

He pushed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. His hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head. "You know what else is maddening?" he growled, his face mere inches away from hers. "How bloody irresistible you are when you're all defiant and stubborn like this. It's like you're begging for me to put you in your place."

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "And the worse part is, you know damn well you have me wrapped around your little finger. Even when you're infuriating me, I can't get you out of my head." He nipped at her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive spots.

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "And the worse part is, you know damn well you have me wrapped around your little finger. Even when you're infuriating me, I can't get you out of my head." He nipped at her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive spots.

He shifted his body, pressing his thigh between her legs. "You push my buttons on purpose, just so you can get a reaction out of me. And bloody hell, you always get the reaction you want." He pinned her even tighter against the wall, trapping her in his embrace.

His lips found hers in a hard, possessive kiss. He dominated the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her in a way that was both rough and passionate. He pushed his body flush against hers, his hands roaming down to grip her thighs, lifting her up against the wall.

“You’re too good for me si..” I laughed as he lifted my legs on the wall forcing me to embrace them around his waist

He grunted with the effort, his muscles straining as he pressed her against the wall. "Bloody hell, you're a menace," he growled, his lips finding her neck again, sucking and nibbling on her sensitive skin. "Bloody menace with your damn legs wrapped around me like this. Drives me wild to have you like this, all vulnerable and pliable in my arms."

He ground his hips into hers, his arousal evident against her core. "And you're damn wrong about that. I'm not too good for you. I'm just bloody addicted to the way you make me feel, like you're a poison I can't get enough of."

I rolled my eyes “just kiss me already lovebird.” I smiled

He chuckled at her cheeky remark, his eyes dark and intense. "Bloody smartass," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another fierce kiss. He devoured her, his tongue delving into her mouth and dominating the kiss. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of pent-up desire and frustration.

And ofcourse they kissed and made up just for the cycle to continue

[kenlvry]

LISTEN TO ME RN HEAT ME TF OUT STANS GANG + CRAIG DOIGN THE LIPSTICK TREND FROM TICTOK WITH READER

the lipstick trend with stan and craigs team

an, I AM LISTENLING ANON DONT WORRY. no idea what you mean by heat out though 🤨 , 17-18 and gn reader but use of her in tolkiens

kenny

he was the one who suggested it, it came across his fyp one day and he sent it to you "lets do this come over rn." "you asked, why dont you come to my house? 🤨" "why don't i cum in your mom" "HUH 😧" "im here."

you both definitely argue on what lipstick you should wear "okay but i don't even use pink lipstick" "well you should" "its light colour its not gonna appear" "well fuck 😒"

the process of kissing his face is wild, he would suggest to do his lips as the first place "KENNY HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THIS TREND IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO MAKE OUT WITH ME" "ITS NOT MY FAULT"

after like2 hours you finally get the lipstick on his face. now the tiktok was even harder he wouldn't stop laughing. you'd give up and he apologises while laughing

thank god you guys were able to finish it under 1 hour it turned out really good, at the end of the video he kissed you and you wanted to cut that part but he said keep it for like and its true the comments were all about the kiss on the last clip

kyle

okay he too wanted to ask you first but he was kinda shy and waited for you to ask and you did!! woohoo for kyle

"kyle wanna do this" "OKAY" he insists on picking your lipstick and picks the ugliest colour like what 😐

to him there was no such thing as an ugly colour buy it didn't suit your face so no way.

the process of it was calm, he at first wanted to put on the lipstick for you but you looked like a clown has mans never put on lipstick??

he watches you as you kiss him and reapply lipstick and then kiss him again, he feels like a princess fr 🤭🤭

he hasn't seen his face yet so when you record and he saw his face he laughs out loud, "LMAO WHY DO I LIKE THAT??" "WDYM"

you would tell him to take off his hat which he refuses but you looked too cute, when it posted cartman was first to comment and you can already tell what he commented "ew gay" your followers defended you two though 🤭

stan

stan blushes internally when you ask him. "sure im down" DEEP DOWN HE WANTS KIDNAP YOY AND KEEP YOU TO HIMSELF

"what lipstick do you think matches me best, pink or red?" "id say my tip colour" "WHAT 😧"

he has to hold in the very urge to puke every time you kiss him because like you look so cute omg.

he looks in the mirror and is js like "damn, i did it". HE LOVES IT SOOOO MUCH YOU CAN TELL HE'S BLUSHING ONGG ‼️

he even directs you like "do here next, okay now here" its so cute 🤭🤭

when you record and the camera pans to him, he smiles and covers his face blushing bc he can't contain it. it was such a cute video and got iver 2 mil likes. cartman definitely commented "i bet you had to change your clothes 10 times"

cartman

"cartman lets do this" "what." "wdym? cmon its cute" "y/n no offense but that is the most gayest shit i've ever seen" " NO ITS NOT UTS CUTE" "my reputation is at stake if i do that be so for real" "okay I'm asking kyle then" "lets do it."

he actually been wanting to ask you for weeks now but doesn't know how so winwin. you take your absolute time picking your lipstick and he couldn't be more done with "hurry up this doesn't even effect anything" "shut up cartman if i use the right one people will ask what lipstick it is and i get views"

picking a lipstick was already a big deal just imagine the process "ew gay not on my lips" "cartman 😐" tbh he wish he could just make out with you rn but yk how mans is

now recording is even more a hassle "JUST SMILE IS IT SO HARD TO CRACK A SMILE" "NOT WHILE IM LOOKING LIKE THIS" the most he does is wipes your lipstick off and then he just gives a 🙄 look until the end of the video

the comments are just him getting teased at clydes commenting "NAHHH CAN'T BELIEVE HE AGREED TO THIS" kyles is "i can tell that this took a long time" and then wendys is "is that cartman or a clone of him". cartman is pissed af at the comment, he told you his reputation is at stake 😒.

he actually has it saved downloaded and also is his live wallpaper sooo.

butters

butters is the one who asked you this " um y/n can we do this? 😣" while twiddling his fingers, "OKAY"

he's all giddy and smily during the process, after every kiss his blushes intensifies and by the end of it he is just.. 🔴

even though it is the most simplest video ever he has to have a tutorial, he is asking questions for everything man, how do i wipe the lipstick, what do i do, do i smile when its on me , do i laugh??

you tell him what he thinks he should he and he starts kissing you bc rn the sexual tension between you two is intense (to him atleast, he thinks thinks hand holding is already intense)

everyone comments on how cute he is and yk how tiktok is so people comment "does he whimper" "submissive who?" and hes likw WHATTTTT 🧍

clyde

when you suggested this he nodded so hard his head probably was about to fall off. "clyde you wanna do this" "DO I???" ..... "well.. do you?" "i mean yeah it's like a way of- yes i wanna do it"

he loves any lipstick you wear so he lets you pick. after every kiss he looks in the mirror and kicks his feet giggling and you just stand there 🤨

he also tries to make it a makeout session like kenny, when you kissed on his lips he holds your neck and literally makes out with like cnon we have 9 more

when you first hit record and yk how the guy has to wipe your lipstick off, nah he grabbed you by the chin and slams his lips with yours "WHY DIS YOU DO THAT??" "its called content,you wouldn't know with your 9 likes and 70 views"

well you kept the clip and everyone in the comments were talking about it "need a boyfriend like you y/n" "why can't my boyfriend be like this" clyde is obviously gloating bc he had the idea.

tolkien

most romantic man you know, is the first to ask you. "y/n can we do this?" "OKAY BOO 😝"

"hmm which lipstick do you think babe?" "i think every lipstick makes you pretty, it doesn't matter if it doesn't suit you because in my eyes you look beautiful in anything ☺️" "what if i wore kim kardashians 2013 met gala dress" "might have to rethink what i said"

he smiles while you kiss him here and there, every once a while he kisses you back, it was such a cute moment for you two😝🤞🤞

when recording he looks at you while smiling during the whole video and it blew up fast because of that

"the way he looks at her" "wishing he was like this" "you got the bag that man is inlove", it blew in seconds fr

craig

"craig lets do-" "okay" "i didnt even ask you yet" "I'll do anything if its with you" "what if i asked you to have a threesome" ".....if its makes you happy idk.."

idk about you but i think he acts like he doesn't care but inside he is so happy you asked he's been wanting to ask you this but doesn't know how to start up the convo

he doesn't care what lipstick or where you kiss him, its just the way you press your lips on him and look at it then quickly reapply to do it again because it wasn't pigmented enough.

when recorded, he doesn't just wipe he makes you turn to face him by grabbing your chin, and he doesn't let go and just looks at you with those yk siren eyes.

people are simping over him ong "damn girlie share for us" "you mean OUR boyfriend" "tryna find someone as hot as him" and you are pissed fr he laughs at you cursing out the people, like bae dw my eyes only fo you 😝🤞

tweek

"tweek, wanna do this?" "but what if I can't remove the lipstick stain" "tweek what dw i have makeup remover" "WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK 🤯🤯" "TWEEK"

okay so the lipstick may turn out ugly bc of how shaky he is but ITS OKAY BC ITS TWEEK DUH, "a-are you sure you dont want to redo this?" "tweek its fine"

he insists on redoing it the 2nd try turns our worse because he's even more twitchy because of how close you are☺️☺️☺️

his face is just red because he keeps wiping it off with his hands so you can redo it and its obvious too

recording it was so funny because you can't stop laughing at the smudge lipsticks

when posted the comments were so cute but... uh questionable some were "the way the smudges are so obvious 😭😭❤️" or "wishing my future relationship will be like this 🤭" and some were just "tip colour when?? 😜"

[bu-blegh-ost]

Something just occured to me. Circling through each beautiful moment in the campaign, I noticed a pattern. Gillion never initiates hugs. Every time, no matter if he is the one consoling or the one being consoled, he never is the first person to offer an embrace. And I think it says something.

When Jay wants to hug Gill, she always asks first. She opens her arms as an invitation and always gives him a clear sign that she wants to be close to him. And any time she offers, anytime Gillion gets permission, any time he feels like he is allowed one, he clings to her desperately and fully, starved for it, finding himself unable to let go too quickly, savoring it like he isn't sure when he is going to be allowed to have another.

Chip's hugs are unprompted and usually done with just as much desperation. They are completely controlled by emotion, and are a form of a language that Chip uses when love and appreciation cannot be expressed by words anymore. Chip never asks for hugs, he takes them. He needs them, so he is scared to ask like Jay does, cause asking means risking to be denied. It is safer to steal it. In contrast Jay is still asking cause she is still afraid of taking love for granted.

But they both, in the end, ask for hugs and comfort in their own ways. Gillion doesn't. He wants it, he needs it so often, but he never dares to ask for it. Cause he still treats love as a reward that he needs to earn, that he is not allowed to ask for, that can't be had, unless he does something that makes him worthy of being loved. Affection and love is a currency and Gill was taught that he needs to fight for it. That it's something he should never dare to request on his own.

How many times on their journey did he need to feel someone else's body close to his, but his lips were sealed, suffering in silence, thinking he Has not done well enough to be given the privalage of being comforted? How many aches and worries did he swallow down and burried deep inside? How many old wounds is he trying to fill with every single hug he receives, when someone else offers it to him? When he dares to take it, when he grips their clothes in an iron grip, trying to make the best out of it before it's gone? Cause who knows when someone allows him to have that again?

The only person Gill ever hugged first was Edyn, the first time in Allport. It was done with the same ferocity of a hurt child, of a little boy who Has been going through hell and his sister is his only remedy. The only person that always lets him have love for free. The only one he knows he can hug for sure. One who for so many years has been the only source of comfort.

The rest of the world is uncertain and even with Chip and Jay, Gill still strives to fulfill the unsaid cryteria of when he is worthy of their affection.

But I know that with enough reassurance and care, he will be able to ask for love himself and start treating his crew as people he can fall back on. And just so you know, the moment in which Gillion is the first one to hug Chip or Jay is going to make me cry like a little baby.

_______

Edit: more thoughts occured

Did you notice that Jay always seems to match Gill and Chip when it comes to hugging? She never asks Chip for hugs and takes them the same way Chip does, no matter if she is the one seeking or offering comfort. And the same goes with Gill. Regardless of whether she is the one in the need of comfort or she is the one comforting, she always verbally communicates a desire to hug first. Like she kinda feels that this is what Gillion needs from her to accept it.

So maybe Jay is actually always trying to search for the most effective way to get a hug, to increase her chances. She believes she has to, cause she cannot take love for granted anymore, not after Ava's death. She took her for granted and now she is gone. So now Jay struggles to freely express her own desires and instead clings to all the ways that she thinks guarantee her the affection she needs, an act of desperation in its own right. A silent plea for acceptance.

Each Captain on this ship treats each embrace as a treasure to savor and protect. It's a result of their past and their fears, but also a proof of unyielding love they have for each other. It's beautiful and one day the same love that they still dread to take, will heal them.