#burn being there is just an added bonus

[jtownraindancer]

hello! i would LOVE to watch jamestown but am a little apprehensive because of possible triggers? so i thought i'd ask! is there anything i should watch out for? in the vein of like... sexual assault, hate crimes (tho this is a given bc period piece but like. how violent would it get?), and frequency of character death? thank you!

​ Hello Anon!

Absolutely a fair question, and one I'm very happy to answer! I'll address each of these one-by-one, and if there are any other possible triggers you're wondering about, please feel free to ask~

This is going to spoil some of the show, so I'm putting my full reply below the cut.

​Sexual Assault:

Right off the top of my head, there is one very distinct instance of sexual assault, right in the beginnings of Season 1 (may even be Episode 1 if memory serves). The rape itself is not graphic- there's a build up, but the scene ends before anything is actually shown. However! The attack is a defining moment for quite a few of the main cast- relationships are formed based on reactions to it (all resoundingly in the victim's corner!), and it is mentioned off-and-on again throughout the series.

Hate Crimes:

I don't… I can't quite say there are many hate crimes as we would know them, but some general things to look out for…

There is a very tentative relationship between the Colonists & the Pamunkey Tribe, a tension which builds up into the final episode where a lot of characters are killed on screen- mostly background. (Season 3 was arguably the most graphic of the lot, starting with the private execution of an alleged "traitor" to the governor.)

​The slave trade hangs heavily over the series starting at the end of Season 1, an introduction that tastes even more bitter when it's discovered that they were acquired illegally (and against the wishes of a majority of the colonists). I… I have much I'd like to say about it, but to do so would spoil a lot of plot points later. I will say however that there's nothing particularly graphic in this end (and Pedro and Marie alone are worth watching the show for!)

For queerphobia, there… wasn't much? The most that comes of it are a few instances where Thomas & Jocelyn both make jabs at Nicholas for his 'tastes,' though in the end it's clear they both really do care for him. Also in regards to an intersex character, the only fault found in her is the deception that allowed him to come to Jamestown to begin with. There's also the strong implication that not only does another character remain open-minded about folks pursuing certain 'bedfellows,' but the possibility that he himself may be queer. (Kind of a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, but definitely there.)

Religion-wise, there is definitely a period-accurate bias towards Protestantism (and a hatred/suspicion of Catholics which will come up several times), and references are made about wanting to "convert" the indigenous population, but that's about the extent of it? Some characters do use ''Christianity'' as a cover, but uh… Spoilers on that end. Put succinctly… In spite of a period-accurate lean towards Protestantism, there are still a few characters who definitely are not of the same mind. In the main cast alone, I can think of at least three Jamestown residents who stand apart from the others in terms of spirituality (or lack thereof).

Violence:

While there's not a lot of gore in this show, there are certain scenes that can seem gruesome in the context. As I found this show through PBS, I wasn't expecting a lot of gore itself, but the implications involved, and the very rare, rare moments where things are actually shown, carry enough weight on their own. (There is one scene that comes to mind with a smuggler and some molten metal, but I couldn't seem to look away; Farlow was fucking terrifying. 💀)

Character Death:

Some great news! Most of the characters survive this series!

Bad news! The characters who do leave will probably hurt!

Would like to again offer a warning for the finale of Season 3, which leads into the very real beginnings of the Indian Massacre of 1622, a slaughter that took out nearly 1/4 of the Virginian colonists. The show does not get graphic, but the implications, and the brief hints we're shown on screen do plenty of damage.

Overall:

There were quite a few liberties taken with this show, and at times it feels vaguely soap opera-esque in the writing choices. But overall I did enjoy this one, and I would recommend it! Even if you decide to watch just for Alice, Verity, and Jocelyn, I would still ask you to give it a try because there are so many interesting characters to meet in this series, and it does offer a decent (if over-exaggerated) glimpse into life in Jamestown.

If you're still interested in giving Jamestown a whirl, I hope you enjoy it! (And please feel free to scream in my inbox and/or DMs about it.)

Thanks for the ask friend; I hope this helped, and if not, please don't hesitate to reach out. Love and light!

[bby-deerling]

Hc about the boys Law, Zoro and Kid catching you using a sextoy 😎😉🥰🙏

based request :D using this to get me back into the groove of writing smut after a brief break

catching you with your sex toy (nsfw)

ft. zoro, kid, law

masterlist

cw: sex toys, sanji being sanji, masturbation, rough sex, brat taming, snail phone sex

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @sanjisprincesswifey @fanaticsnail @indydonuts

zoro

the last thing you expect when you enter your room is to find zoro there with your clit sucker in hand, but now that you've stumbled upon the sight, you're rendered speechless as you slam the door and lock it, trying to cobble together something to say to him.

"the cook said you had something interesting in your drawer. i thought he was just stealing your panties again, but i found whatever the hell this thing is instead." he says as he stares at it, brows knitted in confusion.

a flash of anger flows through you rapidly at the knowledge that sanji was rifling through your drawer again, but you feel a sense of relief knowing that zoro seemingly doesn't know what your toy is.

and then he shatters any sense of the comfort that you were regaining with a single sentence.

"do i not make you feel good enough?" he asks, though it seems to come more so from a place of curiosity than one of insecurity.

flustered, you shake your head with fervor. "i've had that for a long time, like since before i even joined the crew. i haven't used it in forever—" you say with a blush, though your words are cut off as he presses the button to turn it on and gives you a smirk.

"tell you what, i'm gonna make you cum with this thing, and then with my mouth, and you tell me which feels better." he says, tilting his head to urge you towards the bed.

though the toy gets you off quicker, zoro isn't surprised when you tell him his tongue feels far better when he unravels you. after all, he knows your body like the back of his hand, and all that training he does with his mouth has the added bonus of paying off during moments like these.

kid

you feel like you've been caught with your hand in a cookie jar when kid walks into his room and finds you grinding against the vibrating saddle he's made you, your cheeks flushed and lips parted in ecstasy. the laugh he gives you is full of mirth, but you know you're in for it now, severely.

"you think you're too good to obey the rules, huh, princess?" he asks with a toothy smirk as he approaches, flicking the switch on your toy to turn the vibration off. "you know you're only allowed to use your toys with me."

turning as bright red as his hair, you swallow hard as you collect your words; you were already in for a punishment, so you figured you might as well up the ante and bruise his ego a bit—after all, it'd be a win for you in the end as he takes his frustration out on your sloppy, wet pussy. "if you weren't so busy all the time, i wouldn't have to get myself off." you shoot back, holding your chin high to try to convey some form of confidence as he towers over you. with ease, he grabs you by the waist and tosses you face first into the mattress, harshly grabbing at your hips and pulling them towards him.

"you're gonna take this cock so hard you're not gonna be able to even think about your stupid toys for a couple weeks." he growls as he sheathes himself inside of you. normally the friction would have burned, but you were so wet from grinding against the saddle that his thick length slides right in with ease, making you yelp as he fills you to the brim.

"i'm gonna fuck you stupid, you fucking brat." he grumbles under his breath as he slams into you, the fingers on his metal hand vibrating against your clit as you squirm in his grasp.

law

though the rest of your crew is having a bonfire outside, you can't help but hide away in the polar tang for a little while. you've missed law so terribly over these past couple of months, and your own scent has overpowered his in your shared room; however, law's office is the one place where his presence still lingers.

and it's pathetic, the way you use your rabbit toy with your face buried into the throw pillow on his couch, the blanket over top of you poorly simulating the warmth of his chest against your back. you're so unbearably close as you daydream about his hands kneading at the flesh of your hips, letting out a soft whine until the sound of the snail phone ringing sends shock and adrenaline coursing through your body. turning your toy off, you keep it inside of you as you wrap the blanket around you and sit in law's chair before picking up the receiver.

"hello?" you ask, your voice soft and hesitant as you hope you're not met with a marine's voice on the other end.

"hey. it's me. i'm calling from the thousand sunny." law replies, making your heart and stomach flip with delight and relief with the confirmation that he's okay.

"thank god—when will you be back?" you ask excitedly, spinning around in the chair with glee.

"in around three days or so. are the others around?" law says, a bit confused as to why he hadn't heard bepo crying tears of joy through the receiver yet.

"they're all outside having a cookout." you inform him, smoothing your hair out as you stare at the snail, unable to hide your smile; it felt like a hallucination, hearing his deep, raspy voice after being apart for so long.

"how come you're not with them?" he asks with a bit of concern, though he picks up on exactly what your needy body was up to when you reply to him.

"i was, but i came back to the submarine to... take care of something." you say with a blush, hoping the snail on the other end failed to mimic the blatantly guilty expression on your face.

law's chuckle through the phone tells he's picked up on what you've been doing, and you take a sharp inhale as he teases you. "tch, you really miss me that much?" he asks, the lips of his snail curling into a devilish smirk. "let's hear it then. don't hold back." he murmurs as you hear a door slam and lock behind him.

obediently, you turn your toy back on and whimper softly as his low voice tells you all the filthy things he plans to do to you the second you two are alone together.

[sweeneydino]

Slime Attack! Raph Ver.

Your favorite turtles are waiting for their slimes 🐢

Gonna slime info dump a little below

Gave big ol' Rise Raph a tabby slime because they are very friendly and love to boop – they are literal slime cats – and idk about you, but I think rise raph deserves the cuddles. And they come with the added bonus of their plorts being a high commodity for athletes, with only a little drawback. If you know, you know.

Since 2012 Raphael has Chompy, whose a fire turtle basically, the fire slime seemed a good fit. They are rather affectionate but also require a hot place to stay, i.e an ash trough and they BURN. Just burn some trash and boom, food for the firecracker. Their plorts would be a nice snack for chompy, plus a cuddle buddy.

The affectionate part is only because these little shits keep jumping on and following me on the range, and while I do love them, they do tend to get themselves killed.

2003 Raph got the Saber slime, as someone– yknow who you are– suggested! They are similar to the tabby slime as they are cat-like, but unlike them, these guys are food possessive. And thought to be extinct, but that's not important. They will roar, scaring any other slimes, just to get food. Or to just announce their arrival. These guys parkour, too, so now Mikey's got a roadblock.

2003 Donnie might be kind of sad he didn't get one but there's always another chance.

And finally, 1987 Raph with the mischievous ringtail slime!

...do I have to explain?

These fellas bring my carrot farm every ounce of shame as they stare with those shifty eyes back at me, and all I can do is continue feeding them over... and over... and over again...

Oh, and they turn to stone too, but nothing little money can't fix.

[hoeforhao]

🏷 Kidult ▪︎ Choi Seungcheol Fic ▪︎

↷ pairing: dad!seungcheol × fem!reader (feat!jeonghan)

↷ genre: heavy angst, fluff towards the end, mentions of childhood trauma, sort of arranged marriage? cheol and reader have a daughter together, lots of dad seungcheol content!!!

↷ summary: can trying to relive the childhood you never got to experience, through your daughter be the reason of your husband's irk?

↷ part: 1/4 pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

↷ w.c: 2.5k

↷ author's note: part 1 is here finally!! will try to post part 2 by the end of this week, and part 3 will be a bonus smut which will be published on cheol's birthday♡

If you want to be added to this fic's taglist, drop a comment under this post ; my ask box is open too♡

Motherhood was truly a blissful chapter of every woman's life. Seeing your child growing up in your arms, her little legs stomping through the grass to join her playmates, often tumbling down on her way, her father going completely nuts over the itty bitty scratches on his princess,made you feel a joy not even billion dollars could buy.

But that's definitely not something you believed in before getting married to seungcheol or even when you announced to all of your family, that you were about to birth a small little version of your husband and their son.

While his child swelled in your belly, his ignorance and indifference towards you, swelled in your heart. Although it would be downright selfish to say that seungcheol didn't take care of you during your pregnancy, but you surely weren't that naive to not understand it was all for the wellbeing of his daughter.

Well some people unlike others are just destined to go through life like a soldier, bound to only their duty without the luxury of enjoying worldly pleasures - that's what you've been telling yourself since your childhood, all throughout your marriage but now...now it's different.

As selfish as it may sound, your daughter Hana's childhood now gave you a newfound hope of reliving those years of your life that you never got to cherish....being as carefree and jolly like a two year old, sleeping every night with a teddy tucked under your arms without any thoughts about how to deal with this cruel world.

You were so consumed in your thoughts that you failed to notice the cinnamon pie set in the oven being slightly overcooked along its edges.

"Shit shit shit you cannot mess this up y/n!!! Cheol and Hana are crazy over your cinnamon pie and the last thing you wanna do is disappoint your daughter and his father" you mentally cuss at yourself while taking out the pie pot from the oven as quick as possible....mildly burning your fingers in the attempt.

A thud of the main door shitts your concentration from your burned fingers to your hall, which is now being adorned by Hana's giggles upon seeing her father.

"Dada is home princess! What has my girl been doing all day without her daddy huh" seungcheol literally throws his coat on the couch before hopping towards his beloved daughter, taking her up in his arms in one quick lift and peppering the little ball's mochi cheeks with kisses.

"I played a lot with momma today daddy, and you know you know we even threw a birthday party for Bella hehe" Hana started blabbering out her entire day's routine to her father, sitting on his lap, her head resting on his chest,as seungcheol kept on playing with his daughter's silken locks.

"That's why my cupcake is all dolled up right now huh, I see" seungcheol's arms wrap around Hana's waist tightly while patting her hair. "Do I look like a princess dwaddy?"

"When does my Hana doesn't look like a princess, baby! You're royalty, my little highness" you were watching such a dreamy cinematic sequence of a perfect loving family being played out infront of you, from behind the kitchen counter....the catch being you were just a part of this trio only for a show to others.

"Daddy daddy can we go to the park tomorrow pwease" your daughter surely knew that her puppy eyes was cheol's biggest weakness and that's what she used everytime to make her father tend to all the tantrums.

"Anything for my babygirl. But first you've to stop looking at me with those eyes or dadda's heart will burst from cuteness babie" hana's adorable beads were now paired with her dad's dimples making your heart swell at the view. Two of your cutest dumplings.

"Come on now enough talking you two! Who wants to have the first bite of the pie?" you break off your glare from the duo and bring out the piping hot plate of freshly baked crust from the kitchen and set it on the table before them.

"Me me me" "No me" "No daddy me. Won't you let your princess have the first bite" one pout from Hana and seungcheol melts into a puddle, stuffing her small cheeks with the first bite of the pie by himself. "Next time dadda will win for sure!!!" a small hmph leaves your 27 year old husband's lips.

"So when are we going out tomorrow?" you press your lips into a smile like an excited puppy, putting a halt to the father daughter's playtime...your eyes glistening up at the thought of the beautiful day ahead.

"We'll leave after breakfast" seungcheol's stern voice echoes around the hall, awaring you of the void of emotions he has dug out only for you, his wife and the mother of his child.

"Oh okay! Come on Hana it's bedtime bub." you swing her up into your arms, marking your steps towards her bedroom. "No mowmmy I wanna play more with daddy please"

"No baby. We gotta wake up early tomorrow for the park right? There you can play with dad all throughout the day. Okay love?" you plant a goodnight kiss to your daughter's temples before tucking her into her soft Cinderella sheets.

"My cute round munchkin" one last loving glance at Hana and you put off the lights of her room to let her drift into the happiest dream ever, without any tension of the cruelties of the outside world.

Changing into a soft satin robe and tying your hair up into a bun, you finally settle yourself under the duvet of your shared bedroom with seungcheol, your back facing him, wishing ever passing moment, that at least once he wraps you around his arms. But you know better, that he never will.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ・・・・☆・・・・

"YAH CHOI HANA WALK SLOW!" screaming at

that poodle of sunshine waddling away in utter haste, you try to match her pace, literally all breathless and panting.

After a fruitless attempt to follow your spawn of Satan going absolutely haywire about being in a park with her daddy, you curve up your back, sweating like a pig looking for some air ; a pair of cold petite hands lands on the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuc - oh my god Mr notepad ass what are you doing here!!" your face instantly harbors the biggest smile upon seeing your childhood bestfriend after literally months.

"Come on girl, you meet the heartthrob of the town, and this is how you greet him? Girls swoon over m - ah ouch y/n lord my future gen " hearing jeonghan blabber 'bout being a hot cake was downright torture for you, when the man literally had no cake to offer!!!

"Yeah yeah sure that's why you used to ask me to find you a girl, pheww!!" a big smug visible clear in your eyes.

"sigh Is this how you welcome your bestfriend after almost an year??!!" han knew that him giving you those angel eyes will make your composure melt in a matter of seconds and that's exactly what happened.

"Oh come on! I was joking! You know I love you, you little bunny" you instantly wrap your arms around han's waist tightly, while pouting like a puppy yourself, as he returns the gesture in a blink.

"Except the cake part tho, hehe!" a slight pinch lands on his butt as you free yourself from him to walk to the ride's counter, hand in hand. Your heart was fluttering like a flock of doves, because you could let your true self take control only when with jeonghan, from laughing like a five year old, being a naughty tease to smiling wide like the sun. Why so? Because apparently seeing you letting your inner child out in the open, irked your 'husband'.

"Oh the main question! Why are you here? That too at a theme park!!!" shooting an interrogative glare towards jeonghan you march away through the crowd like a happy squirrel.

"I'm here with Nabi, and my little bunbun Byul. She literally manipulated me into taking her to this park. ME! THE YOON JEONGHAN BEING MANIPULATED. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT! I guess she learnt it from her dad only" jeonghan blurted out almost an entire verse within seconds, and you felt nothing but sheer joy being reunited with the only who who cherished your presence, after so long.

"There they are" you look over the thick mass to see Seungcheol and Hana standing by the ride, her little pinky entwined with her father's dainty yet strong digits, while pulling onto jeonghan's arms to run towards your family.

Cheol's face turns slightly dark watching you beaming with joy being arm tied with another man, that was not him. He knew jeonghan was your bestfriend from the time your wedding bells rang but....there was this feeling in his heart against Han, that he could never justify.

"Hey Seungcheol. How you've been? Grown quite buff huh!" Jeonghan playfully slaps Cheol's muscles, earning a sort of irritated groan and a tight smile from him.

"Looks like someone's jealous!" you lean your body over jeonghan's shoulder, whispering into his ears which lands you into being tickled by him like crazy, in public.

"Okay okay I'm sorry, s-stop!" Han's devilish hands finally leaves your body, as yout chest heaves up and down, breathless from laughing an entire year's worth.

"Umm hmm" cheol clears his throat as he tries to break off the *not so desirable scene rolling out infront of him* "we should get Hana going on the ride now, she's growing quite impatient"

"Omg yes so sorry baby mom got distracted" you take Hana from her father's grip. "Cheol cheol let us get on the ride too na? Pls!!! Pls!!" pulling onto your husband's biceps, being in a trance of happiness and forgetting that he's Choi Seungcheol and not your buddy, Jeonghan -

"Stop behaving like a kid y/n! You're twenty seven and a mother to a two year old! Fuckin act like one" each and every word that left cheol's lips carved out a new wound in your heart. Though he's right anyways....you don't deserve to fool around like a happy child....you never did....

"I'll call Nabi and Byul too. Both of them can enjoy their visit that way then" jeonghan steps in to somewhat chase away the cloud that was near to pouring down over the four of you "and Byul is herself quite fond of her bestfriend Hana anyways. They would love this set up" Han's lips curl up into a forced smile as he walks off to fetch his own family.

"I i'm sorry" you let go off Hana's tiny fingers, as soon as jeonghan leaves,leading her to the ride's entrance. "Hold on tightly to the bars, okay? Mom will be right here" your soft sweaty hands cup her cheeks before she turns around to go get seated on her most awaited part of the day.

Seungcheol's face is painted with guilt and regret, as he watches over his small family - while her daughter is glaring brighter than the sun with soulful joy, his wife is standing all gloomy beside the long sheep haired guy he have always envied.

"Mommy the ride was amazing. You know Byul was scared hehe. She was holding onto my arms" your daughter waddles down the metal stairs, her bestfriend following soon after, both of their faces all sweaty and glinting from the little adventure.

"N-no i was not, i i just tried to k-keep Hana safe" the two year old blurts out, trying to protect her pride, while her dad scoops her up into his arms, drying off her face with his shirt.

"Yes you're my strong and brave bun, I know that baby" jeonghan places open mouth kisses on his daughter's face, shifting her to her mother's arms gently, placing a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead in the process.

Such a beautiful family. A word that would never fit your own -

"I - I'm taking the girls to have some ice cream" seungcheol breaks the silence that has now creeped up onto your face. "Wanna j-join us, y/n?" no matter how much he tries to act cool or indifferent, the words he threw at your merry face just few minutes back, refuses to leave his mind, engulfing his form in severe shame and agony.

"No I would like to stay back. You three go ahead" the change in your tone was clear enough for even a stranger to notice....and jeonghan has known you for twenty whole years.

"Nabi you accompany the girls and seungcheol. We two will be waiting for y'all by the carousel" surprising right? How jeonghan was the one having your back and not your husband!!!

"Seungcheol was being an absolute dick back there you know. A very annoying, lumpy and dumbass dick " han's hands curl up against your shoulder as he pulls your head to rest on his nape, while both of you were seated on a bench shining under the dreamiest luminaire.

"Hmm" you hum into his skin, warm salty drops slowly making their way down his silk shirt "or maybe he was actually right"

Pulling yourself up from Han's embrace, you focus your eyes onto your lap, while fidgeting with your fingers, when you feel a warm pair of hands cupping your cheek, fingers pushing off any drop of water that dared to pass by your supple skin.

"Just because someone doesn't appreciate your presence in their life and treat you as nothing but a person their daughter calls 'mom', doesn't mean that you are allowed to downgrade yourself" his hands traveling down your face to now engulf your palms into his, "You have every right to be yourself y/n. I know how you've been fighting all your life, how you never had anything what people call carefree childhood these days....don't let anyone murder the soulful kid within you. Understood, Ms Thumper Paws" jeonghan settles his speech with a finishing pinch on your dumpling cheeks.

"Aye aye sir! Noted!!" you finally flash him with the smile he has been trying to bring out since 'someone' decided to slash it.

To both of your oblivion, seungcheol was watching his wife, his partner being all giggly like a beaming ray of sunshine, her bunny teeth making its way out for the world to see, but-

not in his arms, not on his jokes, instead because of her bestfriend....the person he has always been jealous of, for making you smile so wide and bringing out the adorable kid in you!!!something only he wishes to do you for you.....

all this while the caramel ice cream he brought for you melting away in his hands, as he takes in the sight before him with gritted teeth and hurt eyes

[teabutmakeitazure]

Dissimulation

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 11.6k words (slow burn)

>a/n: my offering for best boy's birthday

Warnings: coercion, Childe doesn’t know how to flirt, blood is finger licking good, panic attack

An unwelcome customer turned into an unwelcome acquaintance has been terrorising your life starting from your minimum wage job. Perhaps your flight back home is your only way out.

Continuation | reasons why Childe is #1 husband | Continued Again

Patience is a sign of virtue. Or at least that’s what your mother taught you when you were growing up. No, it’s all just some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them.

Regardless, you don’t say anything, tired already as it is and just wait for the month to be over so that you can get your pay and go back home.

Even if he seems to like you, you would rather not push your luck. Despite only being in this city as a student, you’ve picked up that it’s best not to engage with the local mafia members, even if they seem friendly. Just keep your head down and return the greeting if given one. If one of them comes to your shop, treat them as a regular patron, and if a fight breaks out somewhere with one of them, do not take sides. Simply leave as quietly as you can.

Unfortunately, you have no such choice or opportunity to keep contact to a minimum. That is why you opted to bide your time and sneak out as quickly as you can and never opt for minimum wage jobs again. Maybe you could get a paid internship next time. You’ll probably meet the course requirements.

The dreaded convenience store you are currently walking to is situated a ten minute walk away from your campus dorms. Having to stay there and beep items all day was its own form of punishment as it was, but with the crowd that had recently started to come in these last few months, it started to seem more like a form of purgatory.

You still remember the lecture your friend had given you on how to act normal around the mafia community. The fact that they recently got active in this neighbourhood is simply an added bonus. Honestly, you’ve been counting the days when your incarceration will end with your flight. You just want to go home and hug your cats first, family members second. 

The bell chimes as you walk inside, and you sigh when you see the mess of ginger hair and a dangling red earring already waiting for you. At least this time his back is turned while he scrolls his phone even if he is sitting near the register.

About that, where’s the manager? He should be at the register right now since your shift just started.

“You’re late,” the dreaded man scrolling his phone points out, eyes not leaving the phone screen.

Keeping your friend’s advice in mind, you decide to reply before twisting the knob to the employee room. “Sorry. I was doing laundry.” A lie but you aren’t going to tell him that you got distracted watching cat videos.

No greetings were exchanged and he didn’t even look up at you. Strange, but it’s best to only reply when talked to. Getting too friendly might backfire.

Still, you decide to say something just for good measure.

“Is the manager in today?” you ask, eyes on him while your hand remains on the knob.

All you receive in response is a shrug.

Thus, you enter the employee room, and there you have it! Mister manager sits on the desk in all his white polo shirt glory.

The door hinges squeak loudly behind you when you close the door. Stepping to the desk, his head slowly rises to look at you when you greet him, but he doesn’t respond. After you’ve slipped on the employee uniform jacket and pinned your nametag, he speaks.

“I may have made a mistake.”

That causes you to frown. “What happened?”

“The guy outside… I… I didn’t realise he’s a high ranking member. I may have asked him to leave because he’s been here for half an hour already and… well…”

“Well, what?”

He shakes his head. “Well, he sort of jokingly said that the building belongs to his division and that the store could close if he wanted it to.”

“...”

“Look. I know you’re a student, so I promise I’ll pay you somehow, but please! He listens to you, right? Try to appease him!”

                        

You groan. “I’m sure he meant it as a joke.”

“Please!”

“Alright alright. I’ll… try.”

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re going to do. He’s a higher ranking member, you know that much, but why he even bothers to be so friendly and chatty with you is out of your scope of understanding. At least now those tough looking ones that drop by in the evening don’t test your patience anymore.

Cautiously, you open the employees room door and head back outside. There’s still no one in the store, but you know that afternoon rush hour is about to start. With you on the register seat, the dreaded man who will stay with you on another shift turns his body to face you, phone immediately slipping into his pocket.

“So,” he drawls, “was the manager inside?”

You put your phone on the little shelf underneath the cash drawer. “Yes. He was inside.”

“Was he mad?”

“Um no.” You look at him questioningly, brow raising when he just smiles. “Should he be?”

“Who knows?”

“Right…”

Silence ensues and you briefly ask yourself why he’s less chatty today. You can’t believe that it’s concerning you. Sure, he’s a very dangerous person if he’s so young and in the mafia of all things, but dangerous people are downright terrifying if pissed. At least you’re not the one at fault. Besides, three more weeks and it will be time for your flight.

You just hope you make it.

“Something on your mind?”

He’s looking at you now, cheek resting in his palm. He’s even gotten closer, next to you to be precise. You don’t think you heard him get closer.

Nervously, you give a little laugh. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Dull blue eyes bore into yours, gently forcing you to answer truthfully. The lack of vitality in them unnerves you but that is precisely what compels you to answer.

“Well… the manager said that you might get the store to close…”

“That? I didn’t think he’d tell you. Anyway, I was messing around,” he smiles. “You’re a student, so it would be unfair to you to suffer in consequence to him.”

The statement doesn’t make you feel any better. “Ah, you’re too kind sir Tartaglia.”

Like before, the way you addressed him makes him frown. “Just call me Childe. Tartaglia is only for my men. Though… if you would prefer…” he leans in, hand that was previously holding his face now gripping the edge of the table as he whispers dangerously close to your ear, “I’d gladly tell you my birth name.”

He backed away again, a smile on his face. “And I know you wouldn’t tell anyone haha.”

How do you even reply to that?

Scratch that, should you even reply to that?

He’s looking at you again, that smile that doesn’t reach his eyes gracing his lips and impatience oozing from his face. You sense that he’s waiting for an answer so you try your best to comply.

“Understood... Childe.”

The name feels foreign on your tongue, and you blame the unfamiliarity on the nervousness that comes with being near him. Thankfully your answer seemed to appease him and he happily nodded.

Okay, one problem solved. You’ll get your minimum wage salary. Another problem. You’ll have to endure the awkwardness because you don’t have it in you to call him out.

As if on cue, your employer exits the employee room and heads for the exit without even looking at you. The fast walking didn’t make his exit any graceful, but it did make it seem important with how Childe eyed his movements.

Silence settles again as you blankly stare at the empty store in front of you. Regrettably, you’re a little worried about what might happen when you’ll be back after summer vacation. You never told him that you’re leaving for home and the white polo dunce of a manager has been sworn to secrecy about it after he flat out told Childe which institution you study at right in front of you.

Protecting your personal details is your job, so you’ve taken it into your own hands. It isn’t wise to tell a mafia member who obviously pines to be more than just acquaintances about your personal life and details. Thus, you will slip away to home on a weekend flight.

What happens after you’re back is something you didn’t consider.

Well, almost two months would have passed by then. Surely he wouldn’t care anymore… right?

You hope he doesn’t. Perhaps it would be best to avoid this neighbourhood. Maybe even look into school transfers to be safe.

“Something’s on your mind again.”

His voice cuts through the air like a dart and lodges into your head. Is it so wrong to simply want some peace? No wait. Peace is bad. If he's quiet then that’s bad. You’ll have to humour him.

Thus, you take a deep breath. Act normal, you tell yourself. You aren’t the criminal here. You’re a humble student trying to earn some money. Relax. 

“Well,” you drawl, “I’m just spacing out.”

You don’t even look at him, eyes still fixed on the empty store.

“You must be thinking about something.”

Grumbling, you internally curse your luck. Patience is running out and you don’t know how long you can remain civil with him breathing down your neck like this. Maybe he had a bad day and that’s why he’s more inquisitive than chatty.

“Nothing,” you sigh. “I’m not thinking about anything. Just waiting for rush hour to start so that my shift can go by quickly and I can go home and sleep.”

“Hm.” He’s closer now, and you can see him in the corner of your eye. “So you’re tired of this job?”

“Tired of the people that come here actually. Most of them are so shady it’s unreal.” Now that that’s said, you hope he doesn’t realise that the jab is actually at him.

“I realise that. I saw what kind of crooks used to come here. They mostly thought they could intimidate the people working here, but all that’s in the past now.”

Well, you do owe him the credit of straightening them out. If it wasn’t for Childe, you’d still have to endure taunts from those weirdos about how they can take anything from the store and you can’t do anything about it. Regardless, you can’t be certain whether his presence is actually good or bad.

“Anyway,” he’s behind you now, hands suddenly on your shoulders, “you’re not from here, right? Any plans to visit home for the summer?”

Well… shit.

How do you go about this… 

You never told him that you’re not from this city, so that can only mean that white shirt dunce did. Great. 

“I’m not sure,” you reply. Would it be wise to ask him how much he knows? Childe does seem to be friendly in all the weeks you’ve known him. Ah. You’ll take that chance. Slowly turning around in your chair, his hands remove themselves from your shoulders when you face him. “Did my manager tell you anything?”

Now you’re looking into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.

“I asked him about it. He told me that you might go home for the summer if you can afford the ticket.”

Okay so maybe the manager saved you a little there, but you still need to answer him. So, you settle with going with what he said. 

Nodding, you look at Childe standing in front of you again. “I'm planning to decide by the end of this month. If I do go home, I'll put in a one week notice. Hopefully it isn't a problem."

He smiles. "Don't worry. It won't be."

You can't tell if he's comforting you or making notes to assist you. Either way, he doesn't know about your flight. Figuring out how to get him off your back when you come back for the next semester will be for when you're home.

"Anyway," Childe says, breaking the silence, "are you doing anything after your shift?"

Where did that come from?

Tilting your head a little, you act innocent in hopes he gets the hint. "Depends on what I'm asked. I do have some pending work. Why? Do you need me for something?"

"No. Just asking. What about tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure about tomorrow yet…"

Childe chuckles. "Then how about you make a reservation for the evening, with me?"

"W-why?"

"I just wanted to take you out for dinner. Is that alright?"

Did… did you just get asked out on a date?

Seeing your confusion, Childe chuckles again. “I promise I’m not going to kidnap you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll just take you out, treat you to dinner, and drop you home. No shady stuff.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, tongue teasingly peeking out.

You suppose there’s no way out of this, but still try nonetheless. “What if something important comes up? Would it be okay to… cancel…?”

His hands go back to his hips. “Important? What could be more important?”

“Um, my summer courses? I still get assignments for those…” You hope that doesn’t offend him, but judging from his face he looks more confused than angry.

Childe clicks his tongue, a scolding look on his face. “You can’t get an assignment with a same day submission date, so that’s out of the question. But hearing your response, it’s alright if you’d rather not go.” He sits back down, arms crossed. “I would prefer it if you'd be honest with me. Prevaricating with lies is more than just annoying, you know.”

In the silence of the store, you can feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump a scolding sound for your stupidity. If he’s angry with you, who knows what could happen. “No! Not at all. That’s not what I meant.” Your patience is still being tested but at this very moment you’re more fearful. “I’m just worried because those courses are counted in my cumulative GPA, and I can’t afford to let it drop!”

“So you’re only worried about your grades?”

“Yes!”

“And you’re not opposed to getting dinner with me?”

“Yes! Wait…”

He smiles. “Go on~”

You narrow your eyes at him, fear all gone and annoyance taking its place. “I sense I’ve made a mistake here.”

The teasing smile turns into an encouraging one and with a sigh, you surrender. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

He gives a little celebratory ‘yes’ but you cut him short. “But I need to be back home by ten max.”

“Wait… your shift ends at seven…”

You cross your arms, finally getting back at him. “And what about it?” Seriously. Was he planning to hog your entire evening?

“That’s way too short!”

“I have a curfew placed on me by my mother back home. If I phone her any later than ten pm local time, she loses it. I would rather not be screamed at.”

“Alright. That’s fair.”

Now that that’s done, you still can’t believe you just agreed to a date with him.

However, Childe looks more than just ecstatic. He’s practically jumping in his seat, leg bouncing up and down and a wide smile on his face. When you raise a brow at that, he just smiles at you, practically oozing happiness.

He stays the same way, quiet and happy and fidgety as customers start to come in. As usual, he doesn’t say anything while you’re ringing them up and just stares. It’s when the rush dies down a little and only one guy is in the store that he speaks.

“Don’t you ever get tired of working so hard?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye. With his face in his palm, he’s staring directly at you. “I’m beeping items with a barcode scanner. I don’t see why it’s hard.”

“It is actually,” Childe says, firm in his statement. “I think you’re just used to the extra work so you don’t find it bothersome.”

“Maybe,” you shrug.

“Hm. You deserve better. Perhaps… someone who would take care of you, no questions asked. Someone… who would treat you as you deserve, cherish you, and make you happy.”

The way he speaks makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t let it show. Patience, you remind yourself. A few more weeks and you’ll be gone.

“There’s no need for others to look at you like this.” He sighs, “I hope that changes soon.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, so you’re grateful the guy who was browsing the drinks for the last five minutes finally came to the counter. You busy yourself with billing him, but Childe just… stares. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second.

Now, the regret of agreeing to dinner seeps in.

The customer leaves, and as soon as the door closes, you hear a phone buzzing. Before you even look at your phone, Childe has already pulled his out of his pocket and answers. He doesn’t give a response to whatever was said on the other side, brows furrowing as he cuts the call.

The chairlegs drag against the floor when he stands. “Sorry but I have to go.”

You don’t dare question the oddity despite your surprise to him leaving before your shift ends. “Alright.”

“I’ll pick you up outside your dorm. Is that okay?”

“Okay but what time-”

“I have your number. I’ll text you, don’t worry.”

With that, he’s out, leaving you confused inside the store. Considering the lack of smile and the fact that this is the first time he left before seven pm, it must have been something work related.

You just hope nothing advances after the dinner tomorrow.

-

He really does have your number. You don’t remember ever giving it to him, so you don’t dare question how he got his hands on it. At exactly 8: 06 pm he texted you that he would pick you up at 7: 30 pm outside your dorm tomorrow. That means that you would have around ten minutes to get ready. 

Ten minutes are too much. You’re only going to change, maybe put on some lip gloss if you look too dead. No makeup and no accessories that could possibly make you look more attractive. Simple and plain is the goal.

Speaking of dinner, you’re going to have dinner with a mafioso. Perhaps you really should look into school transfers during the summer.

This sort of vicissitude was not welcome in the slightest, but you’ll have to work around it. If nothing else, you’re thankful that Childe is respectful of most basic boundaries and hasn’t attempted anything yet. Maybe if he wasn’t working where he was, you would’ve given him the time of day.

At 8: 19 pm, he texts you again. ‘Make sure to dress well :) I’d like to see you in a dress if you have any.’

Dress? Does he mean a fancy one? You send back a message asking for clarification, but he only replies with, ‘Anything casual and cute would work.’

Casual and cute… is he really bluntly asking you that?

- 

7: 17 pm. You kick off your shoes and head inside, dashing straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You’re less tired than usual because of Childe’s absence at the store today, something that made the manager anxious, but you didn’t dare tell him about the date.

7: 23 pm. You change into the baby blue Gingham maxi dress you bought a week before finals. It flows just fine, and you grace the look only with pearl studs. Wallet and phone are shoved into the pockets of the dress, and to not look soulless, you apply some lip gloss. The gloss is also stuffed into your pocket in case you want to reapply it later, which you would rather not but you never know. 

7: 28 pm. You set your hair again and slip on your sandals. One last look in the mirror and you give yourself a thumbs up. The look is something you would wear to a casual hangout with friends. Doesn’t look very try-hard or date-like. Perfect.

7: 30 pm. You open the door and head out. Pushing the elevator button, you check your phone for any messages while the elevator reaches your floor. Sudden nervousness makes you a little nauseous, but you breathe in slowly, telling yourself it’s no big deal.

The elevator door opens and as you step in, you collide with a very firm body. One look to the face of this body, and you’re frozen.

“Going somewhere?”

You nervously chuckle. “Childe. What’re you doing here?”

He ushers you both inside the elevator, pushing the ground floor button. “I’m here to pick you up? Did you forget about dinner?”

“Ah, no… it’s just… they don’t allow outsiders without a resident escorting them. I was going to wait in the lobby.”

“Really? The watchman let me in pretty easily.”

You don’t even want to know what that means.

“Anyway,” Childe says, voice louder than the gentle elevator music, “you look lovely.”

You glance at his maroon button down and roman silver dress pants, eyes resting on his earring. “Thanks. You look… fine as well.”

“Fine? I only look fine?” He’s leaning towards you now, and the elevator suddenly feels too small. Before you can be pressured into a reply, the doors open and you hastily step out into the lobby.

A chuckle comes from behind you, and soon you’re following him outside to a black car parked a little farther from the dorm entrance. With every step you take, you pray that no one left in your building for the summer catches you.

The car is unlocked with a beep, and though you’re a borderline broke student with no knowledge of expensive things because you can’t afford them so why bother, you can tell that the car is expensive. Or maybe it’s just polished to perfection, but it looks expensive.

Regardless, this is the hard part. Do you sit in the front seat or the back seat? The back seat would be rude but the front seat would be too straightforward. The front seat is too intimate and close but the back seat is too alienating. Shit. What do you do?

You leave your choice to luck and close your eyes, reaching for a door handle. Whichever you grab will be where you sit. Upon grabbing one, you open the door just to hear another one open as well. You open your eyes and a car speeds by at the same time.

Childe stands next to the open front seat door, a brow raised as he looks at you incredulously. You look at him, then to the door you just opened, then to him again. The door you opened is graced with your gaze once again before it’s Childe’s turn.

It’s silent, awkward, and you can’t shake the feeling that you messed up before the date even started.

“Would you… prefer the back seat?”

You blink at him, courage all gone when you reply. “Ah, no! It’s not that. I-I just wasn’t thinking. Sorry…”

Childe’s brow is still raised. “Okay. I’m not your driver. I’m your date. So, I’d like it if you sat in the front.”

Shit. Everything has gone to shit. You agreed to the dinner just to appease him and leave things on a good note instead of a sour one, yet you’ve already made things bad. Great job, [Name]. Aren’t you just wonderful?

Awkwardly, you close the door you opened and get in, allowing Childe to shut the door next to you before slipping into the driver’s seat. He starts the car, puts on his seatbelt, cracks his fingers, and folds his sleeves to the elbow before exiting the parking and going onto the road.

Your seatbelt feels uncomfortable in the heavy silence. Thoughts of what Childe might do if displeased swirl inside your mind but you frankly don’t know what. He seems to like you. He has never mistreated you besides being creepy a few times. Perhaps he’d forgive you. He always says your airheadedness is cute.

The pounding heart inside your chest gets more aggressive when Childe clears his throat, lips parting to give you another mini heart attack. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret.”

The pounding heart quiets down a little, confusion kicking away some of the anxiety. “Then it’s good I didn’t ask out of my own accord.”

A secret? What does he mean by that? Scratch that, is the location being a secret a good thing or a bad thing? Should you text your live location to someone? But all your friends are gone for the summer. That one girl you’re acquainted with on one of the upper floors might help if you disappear. At the very least, your jokes in the conversations you’ve had might at least let her sympathise enough to report your status to the police.

“Are you scared?”

Childe’s question makes you look at him, your heart going back to pounding crazily upon seeing his smile. “S-should I be?”

“No. You should never be scared when you’re with me.” His eyes are still on the road. “I realise you have a negative impression of me, but there’s no reason for you to be scared. Well, not you but others should be, but that’s besides the point.”

“Ah. I see.” No. You don’t see, but just go along.

“Mhm. That dress looks amazing on you.”

He takes a right turn at the green traffic light, and you briefly glance at his flexing arms as the steering wheel turns. “Thanks,” you reply. “The dress has pockets.”

As a demonstration, you pull out your phone and show it to him. Childe chuckles at that, calling it cute and you find your heartbeat growing tamer. The phone is shoved back inside and pleasant conversation fills the car on the way.

Childe asks about how university is, how your finals went, and how you’ve come to find the city. You answer the last question truthfully, hands fidgeting as you tell him about your reservations with the ‘law and order’ situation and how you’ve been begged to steer clear of the mafia. The statement is followed by a joke of you doing a horrible job at that, and Childe laughs, saying that you don’t have to be afraid of anyone in the city anymore.

The comforting sentence doesn’t comfort you at all.

The car stops in front of a restaurant and Childe opens the door to allow you to step out. Keys are given for valet parking, and Childe takes your hand as he leads you inside. Thankfully, it’s not as fancy as you thought. It’s not even as expensive, the kind of restaurant where you could arrange a fancy friend get-together. 

The not so high end restaurant doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but sitting across Childe does. He apparently made a reservation for the rooftop, so here you are, wind gently blowing in your hair as he unbuttons another button of his shirt.

“Do you like it?” He’s looking at you now, eyes briefly going to your phone when you place it on the table.

“It’s… nice.”

“I didn’t choose somewhere any fancier because I figured you might get uncomfortable. Next time though.”

Next time? Good God what is he planning?

Your face may have given it away because he's tilting his head at you, earring dangling in tandem as he acts coy. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the idea?"

"N-no. That's not it…"

"Hm?"

You gulp. "Ah it was just a little sudden. That's all."

"I'm glad." He's back to smiling now, face resting on his palm. "I'll make sure to treat you like how you should be next time."

Again, next time? Not happening.

Childe grabs the menu, requesting that you let him order for you both. He says something about the taste of home and this restaurant being the only one able to recreate that, but you don't bother. You simply brush him off, telling him he can go ahead.

It's when a few minutes have passed since ordering that he speaks again. Luckily, the clanking of plates and chatter helps tone down your nervousness.

"I come here whenever I miss home. This restaurant actually originated from my homeland, so I thought I'd bring you here. It's not high end as well, so that's an added bonus."

You nod. "Interesting."

Elbow on the table, he rests his chin on the back of his hand, blue eyes studying you carefully. The observant gaze makes you feel small, and you end up clearing your throat when his gaze drops to your collarbone.

You look him in the eye as you speak. "It's a little awkward, isn't it?" 

He tilts his head like earlier again. "What is?"

"The silence."

"Ah. Sorry. I just couldn't help myself. You look stunning."

Unlike the previous times, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up. It's probably because this time he's looking right at you with the faint hint of red on his cheekbones. Seriously. He's so human. You wonder how he ended up being in the mafia.

Childe doesn't allow silence to settle again, chatting away about his homeland and how he misses the snow. He says it's easier to go outside in this city's climate, but the memories and people back home make living there worth it. During his rambling, you simply nod along, only adding in a comment wherever you deem necessary.

Patience, you tell yourself. This'll pass. At least you're fortunate in the sense that Childe is accommodating and nice. 

He continues rambling, telling you about his younger siblings. Fulgent expression and energetic voice, you lean forward to give him your attention, content that he's making good conversation. As you listen to him, your fingers start fidgeting with the cutlery set in front of you.

Your eyes remain on him as he recounts a story where his youngest brother Teucer refused to acknowledge his sister Tonia after she got a haircut. Hearing about the young child's inability to recognise his sister makes you chuckle which in turn makes Childe pause to look at you with widened eyes.

A smile stretches on his lips, and you trace the edges of the knife when he resumes. 

"Mama was pretty concerned about that. It took Teucer a few days to accept that his sister looks different now. Ah. I miss them. They're a lively bunch and I miss being with them."

Your thumb runs up and down the edge of the knife while it's clutched in your hand, face resting in the palm of your free hand. "You can visit them if you miss them that much."

Childe gently shakes his head, hair swaying with the movement. "It's not possible at the moment." At your confused expression, he clarifies, "I can't tell you why. It's confidential information."

"That's fair."

"But I am glad I still get to be here. I got to meet you, after all."

"Oh. That's… nice."

"Mhm." He's leaning towards you as well now, both arms resting on the table. "Any development in your plan to visit home? You should go. If you're having any problems with the plane ticket or something then-"

"Ouch!"

The knife drops from your hand, clattering dully on the table. Blood oozes from the pad of your thumb as your hands shake from the startle. It doesn't take Childe even a second to be on his guard.

"You cut your thumb?" He gets up, drags his chair beside you and sits, knees brushing against yours. "You were fidgeting with the knife… well, no matter."

Instead of grabbing a tissue, he takes a hold of your hand and stares at the bleeding cut. More blood oozes out of it the longer he stares and one drop even reaches your palm. However, that isn't what's bothering you. It's the fact that he just licked that blood trail. 

He licked it. And now he's sucking on where the cut should be.

The feeling of his tongue is what brings you back to your senses, confusion and panic overtaking your senses and overwhelming you. Pulling your hand away does nothing because his grip is too strong. Goodness, at least the few tables around you are empty and no one else seems to be looking.

"Childe."

He doesn't let go, pressing your thumb down against his tongue instead.

"Childe. Let go-"

A trail of saliva joins your thumb and his mouth. The two of you make eye contact and you notice a slight blush on his face. Childe then manoeuvres your hand, his lips on your palm as he tenderly kisses the skin messily. 

The action gives you goosebumps but you remain quiet, still confused about what's going on. It's when he finally lets go and presses a tissue to the cut that he speaks.

"Be careful."

You remain frozen, hand in his while the tissue remains pressed over your thumb. You can no longer hear the faint background chatter or feel the gentle breeze in your hair. In your senses are dull blue eyes, freckles dusted across cheekbones and nose, and warm breath fanning over your ear when he leans in.

Childe's voice is a whisper, the edges of his hair tickling your cheek as the chair quietly croaks. "You shouldn't be playing with dangerous things."

He leans back again. With a smile, Childe gets up, drags his chair back to where it was, and seats himself. The air surrounding you both is casual, light, like something completely out of the blue didn't occur. This gives you the hint that it's best to not talk about it.

Elbows on the table, both his palms hold his face as he looks at you with a smile. The skin under his eyes crinkles slightly, freckled cheeks squished, and long auburn eyelashes framing the deep blues. You sit there puzzled and feeling slightly violated while Childe continues staring.

It's honestly a little funny.

Right when you concluded that Childe was nice, he does something completely uncalled for. You remove the tissue that was pressed to your thumb, pleased to see that your blood cells have done their job and the platelets coagulated. It'll probably turn into a scab by the time you get home.

Dammit, now you're nervous all over again. Curse you mass of neurons floating in cerebral fluid! Be useful! Sure, he just sucked on your thumb, but keep it together.

When you look at him again, he's still staring. With a sigh, you ask him about his job, what kind of work he does, but Childe only shakes his head, refusing to answer.

His excuse smoothly exits via soft, pink lips. You didn't know you were looking at them until you heard him speak.

"I don't think you'd enjoy hearing about my job. Plus, it's all confidential."

You will yourself to look back into his eyes no matter how difficult eye contact may seem. "Shady? Is that what you're implying?"

"Hm." He hums. "Let's just leave it at that."

So he admits it? Great. You can't wait for the evening to be over. The bag of chips sitting at home sounds very comforting and appetising right now.

When he continues talking again, you start fidgeting with the edges of your sleeves under the table. You need a distraction. Using your phone would be rude, so you figure abusing the fabric of your sleeves is a better option. It takes a little while for your food to be here, but when it is, you compliment his order and ask him about his choice.

The question serves to keep the conversation easy and light while allowing you to only answer, not speak. This in turn allows nothing uncomfortable to occur during dinner. It’s thankfully uneventful until it's time to pay.

You had no qualms about paying for yourself, but being Childe, he told you he’d take care of it. You had no problem with that either. What you did have a problem with was what he said.

“Let me treat my girl.”

My girl. That’s what he called you. If that’s not a red flag, you don’t know what is. Despite that, you suck it in and let him take you home. Patience. You’ll leave soon and never show your face in his active districts again. Maybe you’ll even transfer schools if you’re lucky.

You’re really hoping you can transfer. He might come find you himself after you come back from summer break. Even with all those troublesome thoughts in mind, you act as casual as you could while sitting in his car as he drives you home. Conversation was nice, the thumb incident was borderline violating, but the meal was tasty.

The car stops near your dorm’s entrance, but before you could make any move to exit the car - hand hovering over the handle - Childe locks the doors. You turn to look at him but he’s already looking at you.

“I need to ask you something,” he says, voice unsure and eyes not meeting yours.

Tentatively nodding, you signal him to continue.

“Did you… enjoy yourself?”

“Huh?” You scold yourself mentally for the confused expression. Clearing your throat, you compose yourself. “Yeah. As far as enjoying dinner goes.”

His eyes finally meet yours, and the eye contact is intense. “I take it that you’d like to do this again?”

“...”

“I don’t mean immediately but maybe sometime in the future?”

Sighing, you slump in your seat. “I can’t be sure.” It’s better to make things clear and not lead him on, even if it’s harsh. “I’m not… looking for something right now. It would be unfair to say yes to you when I don’t mean it.”

Childe’s grip on the edge of his seat tightens, the leather squeaking as it gets abused. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me, right?”

“Um, yeah.” You can’t pull your eyes away from his. “You’re… nice.”

He blinks. “I’m nice?”

“Yes.”

Childe’s mouth opens in disbelief before he goes back to his senses with a shake of his head. He leans towards you, hand grabbing the back of your seat and eyes widened. “So that means I have a chance?”

“Well,” you laugh awkwardly, “I never said you didn’t. I just said that-”

“I know I know. You’re not looking for something right now, but that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind later. I’m not going to do something weird, don’t worry. I just… won’t give up.” He’s smiling as he speaks, happy at the prospect of not being rejected. “I’ll keep trying!”

Honestly, the determination he has is cute but it’s almost 10 pm. “That’s great and all, but could you unlock the door? I really need to go.”

“Oh, of course.” The doors unlock with a soft click and Childe bids you goodbye with another concerning statement. “I’ll make sure you change your mind. It’s a promise.”

The chips in your room lived to see another day.

-

The events of last night’s dinner keep replaying in your mind. It’s like a curse, the moment when Childe grabbed your wrist and gently shoved your thumb inside his mouth. Even with the bandage over it, you can still feel the ghost of his tongue, wet and warm, licking it.

You stop in your tracks to shiver.

It’s infuriating how even on your way to your shift you can only think of him and how he promised to change your mind. So much for leaving without any trouble. Can’t he take a hint? Maybe he’s too dense. It does seem characteristic of him.

The bell chimes when you open the door and head inside. A few customers are browsing the store, one middle aged woman and two office workers to be precise, while the manager sits by the cash register. His white polo shirt greets you before he does and by the time you come back from the employee room changed into your uniform jacket and nametag, the customers are gone.

Beloved and totally not airheaded manager moves away from the register, handing you a little list of work to do and announces that he’s leaving to meet up with someone.

Not even ten minutes of him being gone and the dreaded blue eyed mafioso walks in.

The bell chimes to signal his arrival, and unfortunately you meet his eyes as he stands at the entrance. He’s dressed too casually today, a white T-shirt with some band name on it, blue jeans and white sneakers. If you weren’t aware of his lifestyle, you would’ve thought that he was just another young adult on the street.

“Hi!”

You return his greeting with a simple nod, and he comes in. The only sound is his footsteps till he stops on the other side of the register. You meet his dead eyes again, regret instantly seeping into your bones. Childe’s gaze is affectionate, soft. Being on the receiving end of such a look is overwhelmingly foreign and uncomfortable. 

The freckles dusted across his cheekbones and nose catch your attention, but they fail to be graced with your eyes for long. You immediately look away when you realise you started to stare.

Regardless, Childe acts as though he didn’t notice and rounds the register to sit on the chair next to you like always. He doesn’t speak of the date. Typical conversation plays out, much to your surprise, and you mentally curse yourself for expecting him to bring up yesterday evening.

However, it’s not his casual physiognomy that bothers you. It’s his friendliness and the fact that he has started messaging you like one would a friend. Just yesterday he had texted you for the first time in his life and now he’s spamming you funny videos and memes?

Should… should you be worried?

It might prove to be more difficult to shrug him off. You didn’t want to be harsh and outright reject him for him after how he had seemingly tried to be kind and took you out for dinner, but now it seems like that would have been the correct course of action. It’s not that you’re rejecting him solely on the basis of being a part of the mafia. It’s simply your desire to not be in a relationship right now.

Perhaps he’ll respect your wishes like he did last night, even if he did claim that he will keep trying.

-

You should not push your luck. Really. You shouldn’t. You shan’t do so.

First, you leave his meme spams on read. Then, you have the gall to address him as ‘sir Tartaglia’ again by mistake. The instant fall of his smile had sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you of why you told yourself to be careful. Just because he likes you doesn’t mean you’re safe.

Maybe you are, but that change of expression has creeped you out to no end. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

It has been two weeks since the dinner and Childe has settled with chatting with you over text during the late night hours. Tonight, however, you’ve put your phone away in favour of watching something on your laptop. The screen illuminates your face in the darkness of your room, and your phone’s buzzing briefly catches your attention.

You ignore it, obviously. You’re leaving in one week. This little ‘friendship’ or whatever one could call it is pointless. You’ve already planned on blocking Childe on all the socials he’s invaded as soon as you reach home, a step towards never seeing him again. The less you let him get attached, the easier it’ll be for him to forget you and move on.

-

Childe is… a little annoyed. You didn’t reply to any of his texts for a few days, leaving it on read since he sends some random videos after the texts. He let it slide at first, but now he’s bothered. It’s evident in the way he isn’t smiling or even talking to you for that matter. 

Not wanting to end up on his bad side permanently, you capitulate your ego. “Childe? Is something wrong?” You’re restocking the potato chips as you speak, head peeking over the short aisle to look at him while he sits at the register. “You seem off.”

He makes eye contact with a face devoid of any emotion as if that were the most natural thing to do in the situation. “Why do you ask?”

“I just said so. You seem off.”

“It’s nothing.” Childe looks away, opting to stare at his shoes. He’s wearing casual clothes today as well, something you noted he started doing more often after the date.

Seeing that he won’t budge, you go back to restocking but perk up again when you hear him speak, albeit very softly.

“You’re ignoring me,” he mumbles to himself.

So, you do what comes to mind. Leaving the chip packets on the floor of the empty store, you walk up to him, hands on your hips. “I’m ignoring you?”

He doesn’t look at you, his shoes the most interesting sight in the world. “Yeah.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You don’t talk to me. It’s always me who initiates the conversation.” He looks up, making eye contact. “Is it because I’m in the mafia and you don’t want anything to do with me?”

The subtle accusation makes you defensive immediately, and you stammer. “N-not at all-”

“It is, isn’t it?” The earring hanging from his ear briefly catches your attention when he tilts his head. “That’s why you lied and said that you weren’t looking for a relationship right now.”

“But I’m really not.”

“Relationships aren’t ‘looked for’. They just happen.” Childe leans back in his seat, making you grow more nervous. “And you don’t want one to happen with me just because of where I work.”

Your hands start fidgeting with each other on their own, tongue pushing against your mouth’s hard palate. It takes strength to reply to his imputation. “That’s not true…” Heart beating wildly in your chest, you push the words out. “It’s just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” Think brain, think! “It’s not you, it’s me.” Curse you mass of neurons and amygdala for thinking of this ginger as a serious threat. “So please, don’t think of reasons that aren’t true.”

“But they are true,” he states, like he’s telling you that the moon also exerts gravity on the earth, voice boring and flat. “You just refuse to admit it because you’re scared of me.” Childe’s eyes bore into yours again, seeing through your casual lies and crafted confidence.

“I’m not scared of you.”

“You can’t fool me, [Name]. I’d prefer you to be truthful. Lies just get on my nerves.”

You gulp. There’s no way out of this now. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright. Just keep that in mind for next time.”

“...”

“How can I change your mind?”

“What?” You blink at him, not understanding what he’s asking you. “What do you mean?”

“How can I change your fear of me into attraction? I don’t like knowing that you’re afraid of me.” Childe’s expression turns into a pleading one. Genuine helplessness is written all over his physiognomy which in turn makes you uncomfortable. You feel small under his watchful gaze. It’s as though he’s watching every single movement and breath you take.

“I… don’t know…” Your hands hang by your sides as you stand in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line.

Voice gentle, he tries to persuade you once again. “Please. Tell me how to win your heart.”

“I… I don’t know.” There’s a pitiful helplessness in your voice now, and you don’t know what makes you want to tell him what you are about to. But you do. And you have to watch the realisation appear on his face. “I never wanted your attention.” Admitting that somehow leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “I never wanted anyone’s attention. All I am is a student trying to make ends meet while cussing out the degree I chose for myself.”

Eyes wide, Childe tries negotiating. “I could make your life better.” Hands slam the desk in front of him as he stands, barcode scanner jumping and falling back with a thunk. “I just need one chance. That’s all I need.”

“I’m sorry, Childe, but-”

“No no. I’m not asking. You don’t have to give me one.”

You look into the lifeless blues of his eyes as he continues. “I’ll take that chance whenever I get the opportunity. You don’t have to worry your pretty head over it.”

Somehow his decision to take matters into his own hands unnerves you more than his blatant signs of attraction. It didn’t help that he wordlessly left the store after that.

-

Today is your last shift before you leave for home. Oddly enough, Childe didn’t swing by the store ever since he left the other day, and he isn’t here right now as well. It makes you uneasy. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut.

He hadn’t even contacted you or sent any cat videos or memes, and being the coward that you are, you left things as they were. Hope that you won’t see him again keeps you going and stops you from poking at the obvious issue lest it bites you back.

But… you feel a little guilty. Even now as you stare at the floor on the other side of the cash register, you can’t help but recall how Childe tried his best to keep conversation flowing during dinner despite getting a very rude lack of input from your side. He’s been trying, and you’re the one not giving him the time of day.

Nonetheless, relationships aren’t built on pity. You hope he finds someone else, someone more suited for him. That’s the only wish you have for him even if the moral ramifications are eating you up on the inside.

Still, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the question of what he meant by taking the chance when the opportunity presents itself. Does he somehow know about your flight? Well, if he did, he wouldn’t have disappeared. Best to end things on a good note rather than a bad one and stay in contact. But what if he doesn’t care anymore?

Though that outcome is the welcomed one, it still stings to think that. Someone losing interest in you isn’t exactly something that makes you feel good. Regardless, it’s welcome in this situation. You were never in favour of his attention being on you and you never will be.

At 7: 08 pm, the bell at the door chimes in goodbye as you step out. The evening rush hour greets you, and you go with the flow of the people rushing home after a long day or work. Well, it’s the weekend tomorrow. At least they have something to look forward to.

The building of your current residence comes into view and relief washes all over you. Just a bit more and you can get into bed. There’s still a few more hours till you leave, and all your luggage is packed. All you need to do is take a nap.

You practically skip to the entrance, the cool air of the lobby’s air conditioning hitting your face. No one is inside and you hurriedly make way to the elevator. 

The nap you took felt like an entire night of rest. With a stretch, you jump out of bed to gather the rest of your things. It’s when you’re locking the door to your room when you realise just how quiet it is. Your apprehension is understandable, if not relatable. You’ve never exited your room after coming back home for the day, so you have no idea what the building is like after a certain hour.

Dragging your suitcase with one hand, hand carry with the other, you haul them both and yourself - the backpack on your shoulders being an honourable mention - inside the elevator. The air is uncharacteristically cool and dry, something elevator music fails to get your mind off of. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it in favour of dragging your luggage outside the elevator and into the lobby. Who would be calling this late? Probably your mother. The video call would cut when you step out and the Wifi disconnects, so it doesn’t matter. Key left at the receptionist’s desk, you mentally thank yourself for checking out online in the evening but pray that the key is still here by morning.

Hesitation wins and you end up leaving it next to the pen holder. You were told to drop it off at the desk. It’s not your fault it’s unattended.

The bus stop is a five minute walk away, so with a deep breath, you step out of the lobby and to the outside, allowing the night’s cool breeze to caress your face as your luggage stays grasped in either hand. Your eyes land on the empty road, praying that you don’t get creeped out by the lack of people.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a step forward, then another, and another, till you’re a few metres away from the building’s entrance. The breeze is still blowing and the air is cool so you won’t be hot during your wait at the sto-

“[Name]?”

The breeze stops blowing.

“Where are you going at this hour? And… why… is your luggage with you?”

Your breathing is the next to stop, though only momentarily.

Almost on instinct, you let go of everything in your hands and reach for the phone in your pocket. You don’t even bother looking at the source of the voice, eyes glued to ‘Childe’ glowing on your screen as the contact of the missed call. Heart hammering in your chest, you slowly turn to look at him.

Regret and fear seep into your bones at the same time. He’s wearing something similar to what he usually did in the beginning, garnet dress shirt and dark grey dress pants. The gloves on his hands cover his palms but leave the majority of the back of his hands exposed, phone held in the leather grip.

What your eyes focus on first, however, is the earring. It catches the light from the lobby behind him like a beacon, but you’re quick to look away and into the blue irises of his empty gaze.

There’s no time for you to question why you didn’t hear him before he spoke up.

“Are you leaving?” He takes a step forward, phone slipping inside his pocket, and you take a step back. The reaction is all he needs from you to raise his hands in surrender, only coming closer when the wary look on your face softens into something more observant.

“Are you going back home?” Childe stands only one step away when he asks that and tilts his head waiting for an answer. He receives one in the form of a nod, and questions further. “When’s your flight?”

��Half past 3 am,” is your reply.

“So you have a little less than four hours,” he points out. “I actually came here to talk to you. I uh… I missed you and couldn’t help it. If I knew you were leaving, I would have come sooner.”

You’re still watching him attentively, the clothing he’s wearing sufficient to ring alarm bells in your head. “So you wanted to talk?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” you bite your lip, “I guess I’m not running late. The bus will be here in fifteen minutes anyway, so I have time to spare.”

“Perfect!” He grabs both of your luggages and drags them in the opposite direction of your intended destination: the bus stop. It takes a stern question from you for him to stop and look at you with that empty gaze again. “I’m just taking you to my car. I’ll drop you off. There’s no need to bother yourself with the bus.”

Any demurrance from your side is promptly shut down and smoothed over with reassurances that he’d get you to the airport safe and sound. As your packed belongings sit next to the car, Childe eases the backpack off your shoulder and leaves it on top of them.

It’s when he looks at you that the anxiety skyrockets, eating away your consciousness. Alone with Childe, a highly ranked member of the mafia, at near midnight with all your belongings and an assurance to be dropped off the airport safe and sound is an obvious problem.

You should have listened to the uneasy feeling in your gut back in the store.

“So,” he drawls, standing a foot away from you with his hands in his pockets, “I know I was brash and that I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable and also should have apologised to you later, but I won’t.”

That causes you to perk up, anxiety dying down a little. “You… won’t?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I won’t. It’s because I’m not going back on my words. I know you don’t view me as a potential partner, let alone friend, but that isn’t going to stop me.”

You don’t like where this is going.

Childe continues, eyes still boring into yours. “I don’t understand why you’re afraid of me. I’ve told and showed you countless times that I’m not going to do anything. It’s pointless to waste your energy. All I want is to exclusively be yours and call you mine. Why would I ever do anything to you if that’s what I wish for?”

The sir suddenly feels too suffocating, like not enough oxygen is filling your lungs. There’s a subtle darkness in your vision, one you deal with by walking to and leaning on the parked car, not that it helps. Not with the deeper breaths you’ve started taking. It doesn’t take any more indications for Childe to rush to your side, an unwelcome hand gently stroking your back.

The breeze flows again, caressing your face and blowing through your hair, but you’re still sweating.

You don’t know what happens next, just that you’re inside the car, the AC turned on, a light shining over your head, and a hand still running up and down your back while you take mouthfuls of breaths. They’re quicker now, you note, and a hand - your own hand - rises to cover your mouth as your sight and self-awareness is restored.

The confusion and vulnerability hits you like a truck and the tears simply fall harder.

Each and every time the hand moves over your back, you feel like more of your skin was peeled off, goosebumps still littering over your arms. It takes several minutes for you to somewhat calm down and become cognizant of your emotions and actions. It doesn’t come as a surprise when the first thing you decide to do in that state is cry harder.

What are you crying for? You don’t know. It’s hard enough as it is to just continue breathing. Processing your emotions is for later.

A hand, a foreign one, gently lifts your face, allowing the dashboard to come into view, and turns it to the source. Childe’s blurry image greets you as your chest heaves, warm thumbs swiping away the tears rapidly running down your cheeks. You don’t have time to dwell on where his gloves disappeared to, focusing on the feeling of his warm thumbs feeling cool over your tear stricken face.

Several minutes pass again, and you sit with your face in your hands while Childe puts your luggage inside the car trunk. Reddened, swollen eyes meet his blue ones in the silence of the car, your sniffling being the only sound. Whatever you just experienced was horrible. Had Childe not been… no. He is part of the cause. Him helping you through it is the least he could have done.

The driver’s seat is quickly occupied once again, and Childe breaks the silence, concern present all over his face. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod, too uncertain in your ability to speak. His question of whether or not you want some water is met with a shake of your head, and Childe settles with pressing his lips into a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think it would upset you that much.”

Voice slightly raspy, you reply after clearing your throat. “It’s alright. I… I didn’t see it coming as well.”

He slumps into his seat, head turned to look at you. Childe’s eyes glaze over your body, looking for potential signs of fear. It seems to him that you’re dazed, confused. It’s advantageous for him, if not relieving. Seeing you afraid or in pain doesn’t elicit any positive feelings.

After receiving your permission, Childe puts on his seatbelt - all the while making sure you fasten yours as well - and reverses the car, intending to drive you to the airport. You’re a bit late compared to what you originally planned, but you suppose he can get you there on time.

The car is eerily quiet with the lack of music. There’s no gentle humming from Childe, only the sound of either of you breathing. Unfortunately for you, the silence fails to last.

“So when are you coming back?” Childe’s voice is calm, flat. He’s completely casual in his question despite your concern that he wouldn’t take kindly to being lied to about such a thing.

“It’s one way,” you lie. Not being held accountable for your verbal deceit helps you gain some confidence. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll be back for class obviously.”

The car is silent again for a while and it fills you with hope for a quiet ride, one where you would get off, thank Childe profusely, and head home never to see him again. Alas hope is crushed, and you freeze in your seat, muscles tensing when Childe speaks again.

“How much more are you going to lie?”

Childe continues driving, acting unaffected with his demeanour and tone, but it wouldn’t take a genius to know that him gripping the steering wheel in a bone crushing grip is anything but him being casual. 

No. He’s certainly upset, and you’re afraid you’re too much at his mercy.

“I gave you another chance and you ruined it.” Childe’s fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel, voice even as he speaks. “Why don’t we try again? When’re you coming back?”

You bite your tongue when you feel the initial signs of panic bubbling up your throat. It takes a bit of force to make yourself speak, even if it’s in a more fearful way. “Seven weeks. I’ll be home for seven weeks.”

“You’re not going to block me on your socials when you get there, are you?”

With a shake of your head, you continue looking out the window. “No.” 

He hums, satisfied at your cooperation. “Good.” The car takes a turn, the empty roads seemingly omnipresent. “I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to know the truth… er, more like hear it directly from you.”

A few minutes of silence pass, but it doesn’t last because you can’t stay quiet for longer. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“I am?” The smile in his voice is evident.

“Yes, you are.” You turn to look at him, nervously gulping at his grin. “Stop messing around.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Childe!”

Your panic fails to affect him in any way. With the fuzziness growing in your mind, there’s not much you can do except grab onto his sleeve. That causes him to look at you, even if just for a moment, but that’s all you get for a reaction. As a last resort, you reach for your phone in your pocket but freeze when you don’t feel the device.

You don’t need to say anything for Childe to provide the answer to your question. “Your phone isn’t there. It’s with me, I’m afraid.”

“Childe,” you say, voice low and pleading, “please stop screwing around.”

He sounds slightly offended when he replies. “You think I’m screwing around?”

“Yes!” Your exclamation doesn’t seem to affect him, so you opt for a more direct approach. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I came with you because I trusted you.” The words are spat out, but Childe only seems amused.

“Trusted me?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, if you trusted me, you would’ve told me about your flight from the start instead of lying about putting in a one week notice. You’re scared of me, and despite the fact that it stings like salt on an open wound, I suppose there’s some merit to that as well.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

You bite the inside of your cheek now. There’s no way you can tell what Childe means by what he said. Judging from your previous conversations as well, your fear of him is a sour spot, but maybe you could exploit that to your favour.

“I’m afraid of you, because of your unpredictability and that is exactly what you are demonstrating right now.” You grab onto his sleeve again, albeit more desperately this time. “You gave me more reasons to fear you than you did to like you.”

The car slows, as if synchronised with Childe’s thought process. “Is that… really what you think of me?”

“Yes,” you reply in an even voice. “I was already a little scared from what I heard from people and then you started doing all this stuff-”

“Stuff like what?”

“Stuff like this!”

He sighs, moving the steering wheel to stop the car at the side of the road. “I just told you that I can’t ever hurt you, and you’re still calling me scary?”

Your eyes focus on his expression, specially searching for any signs of him lying - hypocritical on your part - but fail to find anything other than sincerity. The grip on his sleeve loosens, your hand ultimately returning to your lap, when he turns to face you. It’s intimidating to look into his dead eyes but it still makes you wonder how such a beautiful colour can be so lifeless.

Childe’s lips move and despite your feelings you find yourself absolutely memorised by the plush pink as his voice leaves his mouth.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

His declaration forces you to focus on his words, any attraction be damned.

“Lying to me and saying that you haven’t decided on leaving for home did get on my nerves a little,” he says, “but I forgive you. You’re cute, so I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

You let his words sink in. He says that he forgives you for the lie, but what now?

“Alright,” you drawl, voice nervous, “now can we please go to the airport?”

Childe leans in, a smile on his face. “How about instead of the airport, we go home?”

The word ‘home’ catches your attention and dread settles in. If he’s implying what you think he is, then you don’t think you’ll be able to catch your flight, let alone get to the airport.

“Childe,” you croon, “I think we have some misunderstandings. Before either of us does something impulsive and hurtful, let’s just talk it over.”

He just looks amused. “Oh? Talk over what? You’re the one pushing me away.”

You try again to de-escalate. “I only told you that I don’t want a relationship.”

“Liar.” Childe’s hand reaches for the edge of your seat, the skin below his collarbones and a little bit of his chest visible as he leans in closer. “We’ve already had this discussion before. Since you’re cute and obviously not in very good mental shape at the moment, I’ll give you a little bit of advice. Let me do my thing. I’m not going to hurt you, just… change your scenery a little.”

You narrow your eyes at him upon saying the word ‘scenery’. Though consternation eats you up on the inside, you trust that Childe wouldn’t do anything to you, at least not physically. What he is currently planning to do is a different matter.

Patience, you remind yourself. That might just be the only thing you have left.

“Now that that’s settled,” he says, going back to the steering wheel, “why don’t I take you home? I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s more comfortable and spacious than where you were living.”

In the most calm and even voice you could muster, you try pleading with him again. “Childe, please. Don’t do something that would make me hate you.”

He doesn’t even look at you when he answers. The lack of smile and his eyes fixed on the road as he continues driving does not help ease your increasing dread. “It might be a small bump, but the end destination is what matters in this case, not the journey.”

You glance to the door handle in an act of desperation but bite your lip when all hope is lost at the sight of the lock. Month old words hit you like a truck, patience being some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them. After all this time, would it be wise to believe you’ll be alright?

[ghostsgrl666]

roomate!ghost who’s always hot x reader who’s always freezing??

He doesn't do it intentionally. Not in the beginning, at least. He just runs hot, always has. That's why he's never worn anything heavier than a (too tight) t-shirt in your apartment. That's why he controls the AC, even hooked the thermostat up to his phone so you wouldn't catch him lowering the temperature every time you tried to adjust it.

It's just an added bonus that on cloudy days he always finds you under the fuzzy throw blanket you insist on keeping folded over the back of the couch, that you always grumble about him being a "human furnace" every time he sits down next to you. He can't help how you subconsciously inch closer to him as you both keep your eyes on the tv, eventually half in his lap with your cheek smushed against his massive bicep.

He teases you, threatens to buy you one of those heated blankets that are advertised on the screen in front of you, but you both know he's bluffing as his arm sinks from your shoulder down to tug your hip, pulling you even closer. He wouldn't give up you wrapped around him for anything.

He says it's just a coincidence when the thermostat breaks, must just be really good fucking luck that you have to sleep in his bed to combat the freezing winter temperatures outside. He's just doing you a favor, being a good roommate when he tucks you into his chest and lets you steal all of the covers while you sleep. He can't help it if your hands find his while you're dreaming, icy as they brush his bare stomach. He brings them up to his mouth and kisses them lightly before pressing them to his heart, to the burning thing your sweet sigh sets aflame. He doesn't do it intentionally, but around you he's always burning up.

[yurinaa-world]

hello, can I request Jing Yuan, Caelus and Welt with an injury prone reader who constantly hides and dismisses their injuries? (Getting hit by falling objects, being the unfortunate victim of harsh attacks, Getting shoved down a flight of stairs by accident or tripping over objects)

Despite the fast reflexes developed to avoid a good chunk of injuries, they still get hurt to the point of needing medical aid (bloody head, heavy bleeding ext.) and are unable to tell immediately due to their high pain tolerance. Even then, reader avoid being healed like the the plague and running off to tend to their injuries on their own. If they wake up in a hospital, they will sneak out of said hospital and dismiss concerns of their Injuries when found.

Reader will say "oh its just a scratch" as if their arm hadn't been nearly mauled by a bear.

Thanks,

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, and Welt yang x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader who get injured easily, but dismisses it

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds/injuries

Notes: sorry I don't write for Cealus so I replaced him with Dan Heng if you don't mind

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You’ve been avoiding him for a while; anytime you see him around the corner, you run the opposite way. You were injured from a pretty nasty fight with monsters, but knowing Jing Yuan, you would have to wait a good 5 hours to heal up properly so he wouldn’t notice the injury and force you into the hospital, and you would rather deal with it yourself. One thing is that he doesn’t take your word on you dismissing your injuries. Don’t believe he doesn’t notice since you always do the same thing when this happens.

You also go to the guest bathroom to stitch and clean yourself up properly, especially making sure that the servants won’t tell Jing Yuan, yet some little stitching does. You might as well go through the guest window instead of the door (which you did go through a handful of times).

You have to clean the evidence, like scrubbing down everything to make sure not even a drop of blood is left behind, and burn the cloth that had all your blood on it along with stings and needles used for your stitches (anything you used to clean your wounds).

All that’s left is to face him, which is another annoying problem.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You lay back against the headboard of your shared bed. stretching your shoulder and sighing, feeling the little sting from the stitches that you did yourself for a couple of hours. “Is something wrong with your shoulder?” Jing Yuan asks while reading his book.

He didn’t even glance up from the text in front of him. You looked down at your shoulder, the very tint of where the stitches are. “Oh no, I’m fine, just stiff is all." “Are you sure?" "yeah,” you nodded, sweating a little.

"I didn’t see you today,” he commented, saying it in an unusual tone that made you look over at him. It was an expression you never thought he would wear—blank, almost mad, or not wanting to say anything.

“Ah, I stayed home,” you replied, looking away. “The servants informed me that you went out and then came back home bloody.” Oh, you gotta be kidding about those damn snitches!

you thought, but instead just smiled nervously at Jing Yuan. He finally closed his book and looked up at you, his gold eyes freaking at you.

“well?”

"I tripped!"

“You can’t fool me," he stated flatly, crossing his arms around his chest and face and switching to his smirk, making a whole change in the atmosphere, and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Fine," you huffed, rolling your eyes. "I got a little hurt and fixed myself with stitches. “I’m perfectly fine, though!" You added trying to play off your injury.

“What shall I do with you? Maybe tie you up?”

“Tie me up?! Over this!”

“Sounds fitting for you.”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You avoid everyone like plague and stay in your room, locking your door and not letting anyone in. It takes you such a long time to stitch up and clean up your wounds. If March knows, and even if you asked her to keep it away from Dan Heng,  she just can’t keep her mouth shut.

Whenever you do get hurt in front of him, you immediately tell him you're fine and avoid any help from him, even if you look like you got jumped by 15 different people.

There have been times you forgot to lock your door, which happens when you run into your room cleaning up your very messed-up wounds without more of your blood ruining your floor.

But also the part about having a big mouth and your door being unlocked—yeah,  him seeing your trashy, shaky hand trying to stitch yourself up freaks him out that he has to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You groan in annoyance, sitting at your little two-seat table, medkit on your table, trying your best to pull string in the skin of your arm without causing more damage than necessary. needle going through your skin with the rest of the string in your mouth. Your lips tug on the thread, and you feel the tug in your teeth.

“What are you doing?” You hear Dan Heng say something, making you stop in your tracks as you attempt to pull the string out of your mouth. You sigh, turning around to face Dan Heng. "Uh, Dan Heng, what are you doing here?" you sweat. “March said you weren’t feeling well and I should check on you; it looks like she’s right." stupid march! “You don’t need to bother,” yet he doesn’t listen to you.

He goes over to your chair beside the one you were in, pulling it up so that he is sitting next to you, taking your arm with trashy stitches on it, removing it, and cutting it off for a fresh new start.

"You shouldn’t have the string in your mouth; germs could transfer to the wound and give you an infection.”

He scolded gently, cleaning up the wound, taking the string, and gently taking your arm, slowly taking the needle and gently pulling it through your skin, being careful not to tear the flesh.

“Dr. Dan Heng, you really do know everything." You laugh slightly while watching him work his magic on your arm.

“Dr. Dan Heng? It’s good to know about this stuff when it comes to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He completely fixes your arm, and you look at your cleaned arm with an impressed look.

“Thank you, Dan Heng.”

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔

You worry a lot about him; you can’t even hide it or play it off with him; he can just see the slight change in your body, your stunning white walking, or how you clutch at your shoulder and go to change bandages, and even more blood starts to soak out.

While you are sleeping together, he wakes up to a weird feeling, turning the lamp to see a little pool of blood by the shoulder and the shoulder of your clothes, also stained in crimson red, while you look so uncomfortable by the wet feeling.

He wakes you up, and you fix up while you're still half asleep, not knowing what’s even happening as he cleans the sheets, wounds, and clothes to make sure your blood doesn’t leak out again.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[plush-rabbit]

Adam Dating Headcanons

I love him sm and I hate that it's him!! Why couldn't be like Lucifer or something!!

Angel:

With his status as the “First Man”, Adam can get away with most things. In doing so, he has you with him at all times. Takes you everywhere like a pampered pet. If someone comments about you, he’s hyping you up. He’s telling everyone how you’re just so hot, and you give the best kisses, and how you tempt him constantly. You’re all that he can talk about. It’s him bragging about how great you are, and of course, you're great. He deserves all the finer things that angelhood has to offer. You’re an added bonus. Someone so cute and hot. 

He’s crass with everyone, and you are no exception to this. He’ll throw our swears, and phrases that are demeaning. He’ll use awful pet names that have your ears burning, and s scowl twisting at your lips. A part of you believes that he only continues to call you such things to see your reaction. His crude nature is public for all to see and bear witness to. He has no issue telling others the filthiest things that you two have done, and where you’ve done them. He only slows down when you swat at him, your face burning and hidden into his arm, pulling at the cloth for him to stop. His grin is sharp, and for the few times in his life, he takes pity, and he gives you mercy, letting the words come to a sudden halt, about how only he should be privy to just how perverse you can be. 

There are times where he’s just a jerk. Flat out mean, and cruel towards others and towards you.. It never lasts long, it’s more like it’s just second nature to him to know that he’s above everyone else, so he doesn’t have to play nice with others. He’ll snarl and when an angel clings to his robes with stars in their eyes about meeting him, all he can think about is how he has to be somewhere that isn’t there and they’re dirtying his robes. You’ve been on the receiving end a few times, and everytime you give him a certain look. He isn’t one to say sorry without being nudged into it, but he’ll lift his shoulders as if to hide himself, and he’ll mumble something close to an apology, and when you look away from him, he’ll hold your hand. He didn’t mean to snap at you- he thought you were someone else, and you know how it is. When you do take it personal, he still won’t tell you a proper apology, but he will wrap his arms around you and his mask will nudge itself along the crook of your neck, soft words spoken that won’t be heard for a long while.

It’s rumored around Heaven about the past wives of Adam- how they both fell for Lucifer, how they were Adam’s but they left him. He complains about it, grumbling under his breath about the fallen angel, about Lilith and Eve, and there’s this underlining of hurt in his voice. Everytime that you see him without his robe, he almost always has his side turned away from you, a hand curving just under his chest. And maybe because of the betrayal, he’s so attached to you. He wants you around him. He needs you around him. Far more than he would ever like to admit, he can’t- and he hates to even give it thought- he doesn't think he could stand another betrayal like that. So he’s attached to the hip with you. He’ll call you constantly, he’ll want to go everywhere with you. He just wants to be near you. 

While he may have his moments where he’ll whisper honeyed words to you, or give you bouquets of flowers, Adam expresses himself through touch. When the two of you go out, he’ll hold your hand, and if he can get away with it, he’ll tuck his hand over your bum. He’ll put his arm over your shoulders, letting his fingers graze over your chest, and keep you tucked underneath him. His wings are massive, soft to the touch and blinding in the sun, shimmering with gold and snowy white feathers, and while they can be heavy to hold them against his back, he’ll curve them around you, pulling you close to him when others cannot see. You’re protected underneath the gold, and he adores how you always reach out to touch them, to smooth at any stray feathers that bristle when he surrounds you. He needs to be touching you- he has to. In private, he’ll hold your hand and trace over yours with his claws. He’s never been so gentle with someone, he’s pulled apart sinners and covered himself in blood and gore, he’s vile and cruel, but he holds your hand so tenderly, and for a moment, he’s forgotten he’s Adam, First Man, and at that moment, he’s a man, holding an angel’s hand in his calloused claws.

Sinner:

Adam likes to joke that Extermination Day is the best thing to ever happen to you since it’s what allowed you to meet him. Plus, the added bonus is that now you’re protected and you won’t die. Probably. If you listen to what he says. But even then, he always makes sure to keep an eye out for you- hunting near your hiding spot, shooing away any of the other exterminators. It’s a win all around, really. At first, he’d have the two of you meet at the Heaven Embassy in Hell. However, it proved to be suspicious when other angels would question and even his own lies were starting to fall apart. He could always tell them he needed a break from all the singing and pure-hearted delight in Heaven, but he knows that he would have others follow him, peeking into something personal. So, he’s commissioned a new mask, and he’ll ditch his holy robes for something more Hell-esque to visit you.

You’re aware of his feelings towards demon folk, and walking hand-in-hand with him in the very place where he creates destruction, makes you feel like a traitor. You can tell that he's disgusted by everything- the gore and deaths, the rotten stench of meat coming from the Cannibal District. The rottenness of Hell has acid burning his tongue, but when you pull him towards a vendor on the street, he can hold his tongue. He gets to see you, and that’s enough for him. He holds no power in Hell. He could, and while he’s sure he could handle a few of the Hellborn and Sinners, you would be at risk. So any amount of disrespect has him biting his tongue and keeping you close to him. It’s infuriating to know he has to spend his time locked in your apartment, eating takeout- or on the lucky occasion your home cooked meals- and hiding away with you. He wants to show you off. He wants to be showed off. But, you sit beside him, and tap against his horns with an impish smile as you hold a forkful of food near his lips. 

He may never admit it, but he likes staying indoors with you. For those few hours, where you cook and you nap together, and you kiss him earnestly and with want, he can slip into the illusion that this is his norm. It’s vanilla- so much so that if it were any other time or place, he’d be sick. But, with you by his side, complimenting his mask, the tips of your claws curving over the horns and tracing the outline of his mask, he’ll take it. He’ll tease and snap at you, asking you to beg for him to remove his mask, telling you to ask nicely, and when you coo and press yourself against him, he’s grateful that the mask is still on. Not much can make the First Man flush, but when you act so sweetly, lips pulled into a smile with fangs on display, he thinks it’s one of the better sights that he’s seen in a long while. If he’s in a pleasing mood, he’ll rid himself of the oversized robe, and let his wings expand. He watches your expression- the awe and wonder that they hold, the gasps when you touch his feathers. He’ll stare and memorize the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your lips, as you familiarize yourself with his wings. In those few hours when he’s with you, it’s domestic, and it’s nice. 

When he visits Hell, he never stays for long. It’s visits that last for a few hours, but they never stretch into the night, and when it’s time for Sinners and alike to rise, he’s gone, not a single trace of him left behind. The dishes are put away, his part of the bed tucked in and flatten, it’s as if you dreamed a perverse dream where an angel took interest in a demon. You’ve asked him what excuses he gives to the others, never telling him that you wish he would stay for longer. He tells you that he’s told others he’s doing paperwork, or that he’s going to some orgy party and no one should bother him. When you laugh at that, he stares at you, eyes wide and heart- or whatever it is that he has- skipping a beat. You sleep in your bed, and he pulls you close to him, his eyes on the wall, as you make yourself comfortable on top of the Exterminator. He tells himself that he could miss a day- skip work and spend the day with you here, where the two of you could entangle yourselves with one another, but when brushes over your skin, and he hears the demons talk between the thinned walls of your apartment, he pulls away, and rests his lips over your temple. Leaving you behind in Hell never gets easier, and the more he erases that he existed in your home, the more he hopes that you’ll cry and miss him, and want him.

Unsurprisingly, he’s mean. Perhaps it’s his own personal feelings that he’s had with demon folk for the past number of  millenniums, and how in comparison to that, he’s only just met you, that he still has animosity towards demons. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop with you. He can be cruel, referring to you as a Sinner, and sneering at you, and when you flinch, hurt evident in the way that you back away from him and pull your limbs close to yourself, that he groans. He hadn’t meant it. Not like that- at least not towards you. You have to understand, some demons, some of those sinners, well- and his explanations are always cut short when you scowl at him. He hadn’t meant to be mean to you, he promises. He’ll envelop you in his arms, and pout, asking you to not take it so personally. He’s tense, and he waits with bated breath, and he visibly relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. Adam had never thought himself to care about what a demon may think of him, but in those moments where you sit still and he’s unsure if you’d forgive him or not, his mind is racing. He can’t- It can’t even comprehend what it would feel like to be rejected by you. 

[earthtooz]

BABE I HAD AN IDEA- Reo Mikage ANGST where he calls reader a gold digging whore in the middle of an argument, ultimately affirming all of her insecurities so he has to figure out a way to show that he didn't mean it and that he's sorry without using his disgustingly abundant wealth 💔 anyways ilysm hope you take care of yourself

NO YOU ARE LITERALLY DISGUSTING FOR THIS (affectionate) YOUR MIND >>> YOU ARE SOOOOO RIGHT. SHUT UP THIS WILL LITERALLY BE THE MOST SCRUMPTIOUS FIC EVER BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY ABOUT TO PUT MY WHOLE EARTHUSSY INTO INCORPORATING THIS IDEA SOMEWHERE !!! BUT FOR NOW, TAKE THIS SNIPPET I WHIPPED UP IN ONE SITTING.

girl feel free to come back into my inbox WHENEVER and giving me your juicy ideas bc holy shit i loved this.

CW: HURT/COMFORT - A LOT OF BOTH, SWEARING, UNEDITED - I WAS GOING THRU IT WHILST WRITING THIS DON'T LOOK AT ME!

IMAGINE THIS: it's been a rough night for both you and reo, he's been through a lot in the past weeks because his dad just had to during the middle of soccer season to lecture reo about how to run a big business. the transition process is beginning to happen since father mikage is about to retire and although your purple-haired boyfriend has been preparing for this his whole life, having gone to business school part-time and graduating with honours, there's still a little part of him that feels weary from all the responsibilities.

all this accumulated stress needs to have an outlet eventually, right? welp, you just happened to be there at the right (wrong) time. you were simply delivering a platter of apples to your boyfriend who had his head in his hands, hunched over an endless pile of paperwork that was beginning to irk him with each passing second. countless images of him shredding up the paper flowed into his mind, a fury that manifested into his reality, except the paper was you D,:

one thing evolved into another, reo's endless stream of venomous words didn't stop flowing out of him as he spat poison after poison, burning you with the intensity of it all.

"you're so overbearing, can't you see that i'm fine? unlike you i can handle myself when things get hard," he spits, eyeing you with fury in his eyes, one that makes you gulp thickly.

"reo-"

-but you wouldn't know the first thing about fighting for what you want right, you fucking gold-digger."

that stops you in your tracks, silences you effortlessly, causing you to let your hands drop limply back to your sides as you stare at your boyfriend blankly. you're sinking into an abyss of hurt and insecurity, it's getting harder to breathe because of the way your chest swells with anger.

reo only continues, not noticing the way you physically and emotionally drop. "even if you don't give me attention for one second of the day, i won't forget you exist, so stop being so clingy and unnecessary! my money isn't going anywhere either, you don't need to occupy majority of my day so leave me alone. go shop online or something."

that was it. was that all reo perceived you to be? a dent in his money, the expenses of his bank account?

"fine. goodbye," you simply mutter before slipping through his office door, out in the hallway.

"don't bother me whilst i'm in here," he says with finality, one last declaration before you shut the door behind you.

the luxurious walls of reo's penthouse look down at you mockingly, the spacious area caging you in, chanting 'gold-digger' over and over again until it's all you hear.

staying here feels wrong.

so, you grab your purse and leave, as quietly as possible. slipping down to the garage where your (second hand) car was parked, you start the engine up and begin reversing out of the parking lot.

you begin to reflect on your relationship with reo. you love him, you really do, you love him because he's reo, the man who was always capable of making you smile, laugh, and make you feel like you were on top of the world. his money and fame was an added bonus that you truly didn't care much about.

but ever since dating him, you've had your own insecurities that have been forced on you by other people. there were crowds calling you a 'gold digger' who was only with reo 'for the money', and although you were sure of yourself and your intentions, your armour breaks down sometimes.

what reo said tonight was the final jab that allowed it to fully disintegrate.

you had a stable job of your own and finances to your own name, money wasn't something you avidly chased, sure having a few zeroes in your bank account was nice but that was all you really needed. as long as you could buy necessities and spoil yourself, it was satisfactory, and you could provide that for yourself!

reo loved to spoil you, showering you in luxurious gifts that you never knew how to accept. it would take a great deal of convincing for you to take what he bought you, and when you promised him to stop buying them for you, he agreed before buying you more material stuff.

as you pull up to the parking lot of the apartment complex that you resided in, you get into the elevator with a heavy heart, pressing the button to your floor with a lot of emotions.

the ride is silent. everything is so silent.

your apartment is even more silent. it's unused, slightly barren. your furniture was still there, except some dust had gathered on the tables and cabinets from how long you've neglected it.

the only reason you were able to keep your apartment was because you had no expenses outflowing since reo took care of almost everything. anything you needed, he bought it, groceries, bills, whatever, were charged on his card. for a period of time, your bank account merely grew and never decreased.

and since you hadn't been here for a while, electricity and water bills never bothered you too much.

you flop onto your made bed with a sigh. it wasn't as soft as reo's but you didn't find it in you to care, you just needed some well-deserved shut eye.

well, 'shut eye' occurred for merely an hour before your phone started vibrating violently.

with a groan, you shove your face back into your pillows before blindly reaching for your phone.

you already knew who it would be without looking at the caller id. of course reo would be looking for you, noting your obvious absence in his penthouse.

"hello?" you mutter.

"y/n? where the hell are you?" comes reo's frantic voice from the other line. he sounds genuinely concerned.

"doesn't matter."

"i'm sorry for everything i said. please, come back."

"reo, i'm tired, i can't do this with you right now."

"i'm sorry, i'm really really sorry."

"i don't want to hear this right now."

"i love you."

you sigh and you're sure reo can hear it on his end. unsure of how to respond, you just hang up on him before throwing your phone away. normally, you would feel bad about the way you left him, but that wasn't the case this time. you just needed to sleep on this.

but, it was reo you were talking about, and the last thing he was going to let you do was sleep without him.

at 1:24am, there's a series of ferocious knocks on your door, followed by screams of your name.

oh my god it was so embarrassing, you literally shoot out of bed as soon as you register what was happening and dash for your door. you don't want to disturb your neighbours' sleep and let them hear that the pathetic grovelling of your boyfriend. the entire hallway could hear reo and his shouting.

you open the door, pull him in, and slam it shut behind you again, leaving the purple-haired to stare at you with a bewildered expression.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss.

he looks at you the same way a puppy does when its owner kicked it out of the house.

you should've known that merely telling reo 'i don't want to hear this right now' would not be enough to pacify his determination and the fact that you hung up on him only intensified his pettiness. the purple-haired always sought you out, pulling himself into your orbit like a magnet. where you went, reo followed, even if it was to the ends of the world.

he had the money to do whatever he wanted, you suppose.

"i wanted to make sure you were safe," he pouts. "i didn't know whether you'd be here or not."

"well, i'm safe, and i'm here. so."

"i can see that," he leans against the back of your couch. reo looks so out of place in your small apartment, awkwardly playing with his hands. "so... should we go to bed?"

the audacity. "what do you mean 'we'? go back home, reo, i'll see you some other time."

as you turn around to go back to your bedroom, reo's quick enough to round around you, blocking you from the hallway with his larger figure.

"but you are my home. please, i'm really sorry about what i said, i didn't mean it," he pleads, grabbing your face so you could look him square in the eye.

you step out of his grasp easily, shaking him off. if you were in your right mind, you would've seen the look of heartbreak on reo's face.

"sure, if you didn't mean it then you wouldn't have said it in the first place, mikage."

you swerve around him to reach your bedroom and he follows you the entire time, trailing behind you, desperate for an ounce of your attention.

"i know i fucked up, but i didn't mean to hurt you and project my frustrations like that onto you when you were just trying to care for me." you sit down on your bed with a sigh and reo takes a seat beside you. "you know i love you right? like, a lot."

that's right. if there's one thing about reo it's that he loves you to an endless degree.

"thank you for always caring for me. i know you don't do it because you're after my money or fame, but because you want to ensure that i'm healthy and not rotting in all that i have to do," his voice cracks. is he beginning to cry. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

you let a beat of silence pass by before dropping your walls. he was always going to smash through them no matter what.

"i've always felt insecure in our relationship," you confess, no louder than an exhale and if reo wasn't holding on to every action of yours, he wouldn't have heard you. "being called a gold digger became normal when i started dating you and i didn't really care. well- i tried not to care."

you continue. "i don't want to let these comments get to me, but then you said it and... i don't know, it just felt horrible."

you feel an arm sneak under your leg, and another hand come to your elbow, both of which simultaneously pull you to straddle reo's lap. you don't look him in the eye- something he frowns at.

"i love you for you. you're the best i'll ever have, reo, but sometimes i-"

"-please don't finish that sentence," he murmurs, breath fanning against your face.

you meet his gaze. he's crying freely. tears are running down his cheeks like streams and you instinctively bring use your thumbs to catch the drops. you hate it when he cries.

"i don't want it to be anyone else but you," confesses the purple-haired. "i hate it when we're separated, i can't stay away from you too long or i think i will go insane."

his statement causes you to giggle a little.

"you laugh but i'm telling the truth."

"i laugh because you make me happy."

his arms wound around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, leaving you with no room to escape or part from him. just what reo likes.

"i'm sorry for what i said," he says against your collarbone. "when i didn't see you in our home, i didn't know what to think. i got so scared for a second because i had no idea where you could've gone so i started spamming your number-"

"-yeah wait, was calling me 24 times necessary?"

"i was going to keep calling you until you picked up so it could've taken 24 or 1000 times or more. now let me speak." you nod wordlessly, smiling a little at how silly reo can be. "and when i realised that you went back to your apartment, i felt horrible that i drove you out."

he looks up at you with glossy eyes.

"you came here because you wanted to prove me wrong, right? because you bought all this by yourself and don't need me, right?"

"well, kind of, but i also didn't want to be around you so i came back here."

reo frowns before leaning in to press delicate kisses to your neck. "please don't leave me. i need you by my side," he inhales before whispering his next statement. "even if you don't need me."

a hand of yours go up to thread through his hair. "don't say that," you use your other hand to direct his face away from your neck, pressing a kiss against his puckered lips. "i absolutely adore you, my love. you're my favourite person ever."

he smiles before leaning in again, kissing you with more fervour and passion. you can feel another tear slide down his cheek.

"lets go to bed, reo," you say when you part and he simply nods, laying you on the side of the bed before laying beside you, arms naturally finding themselves around your waist as reo tugs you as humanely close as possible. "sorry if this mattress isn't as comfortable as your twelve grand one back home."

"i couldn't care less," he whispers whilst tracing patterns on your bare skin.

so long as it's you he's next to, reo doesn't have a lot to complain about.

[ugh-yoongi]

hi! would it be alright if i asked what your favorite namjoon fics are? thank you and have a great day 💗🥹

hello nonnie, it is always okay to ask me for fic recs! <3

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i know there are a bunch i've forgotten, so please reblog and share your own work and your faves!

also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won't be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.

namjoon x reader

anything by @effortandmore

anything by @hamsterclaw

anything by @miscelunaaa

1-year anniversary by @johobi

omerta by @anotherbtswriter

hammer it home series by @gukslut

hey, it's me & leave no trace behind by @yoongiphoria

love bytes by @stutterfly

real magic & park and ride by @here2bbtstrash

house of cards & guilty by @xjoonchildx

lacuna by @eoieopda

dream team by @bangtanintotheroom (feat. hobi)

cyanide on my bedsheets by @jimilter

laundry day by @snackhobi

bloom by @hobidreams

the snow globe effect by @gukyi

you've got a friend in me by @wwilloww

pronoia by @junghelioseok

limbo by @beahae

love hard by @raplinesmoon

swiss miss by @here4kpopfics (feat. seokjin)

my feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic

a fine line by @moni-logues

roommates with benefits

as always, mxm fics under the cut!

member x member

softer than steel (namseok)

frustrations in late foucault (namseok)

the universe needs more you (namseok)

in your atmosphere (namseok)

why don't you figure (my heart) out (namseok)

i'm on fire (rap line)

delta (rap line)

꽃꽂이. kkotkkoji (namjin)

you have 1 new message (namjin)

beta tau sigma (namjin)

white rabbit (namjin)

local dumbass idiot helps sexy criminal and then writes sad bird poems instead of just saying Yes Seokjin I Like You Too (namjin)

easy (namjin)

and they were roommates (namjin)

burn me like an ember (namjin)

the understood boundaries of self (namjin)

more walls (collected along the way) [namjin]

imprints & magnitude (namjin)

salt water (namjinkook)

disgruntledofficebrat [active] (namkook)

you can leave the cape on (namkook)

108 degrees (namkook)

the whole of the moon (namkook)

travelogue with a frat boy (namkook)

it's a color that i can't describe (namkook)

how much to give and how much to take (namkook)

the courage of stars (namkook)

come take it (if you want a piece of me) [namkook]

a feel so sweet (namgikook)

objects in mirror are closer than they appear (namgi)

green carnation (namgi)

the added bonus (namgi)

tear you apart (namgi)

different when i'm with you (namgi)

adrift (namgi)

i'll fuck you if you let me, baby (namgi)

sleepless in (namgi)

恋の予感 (namgi)

take it or leave it (namgi)

baby, but we will (namgi)

verified amateurs [online now] (namgi)

cyrano more like cyraNO (namgi)

record it for later (namgi)

into the red morning (taejoon)

don't call it love (taejoon)

i am red with love (taejoon)

the bad thing (minimoni)

you were more than just light (minimoni)

wish we'd fall in love (minimoni)

but i want it anyway (minimoni)

[ashesofivory]

kissy smudge

: ̗̀➛ pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader.

: ̗̀➛ rating: no rating, available for all ages.

: ̗̀➛ warnings: swearing, fluff.

: ̗̀➛summary: your journey with carmen summed up in one, cute gesture. (just a small carmy blurb because i love the man)

: ̗̀➛ word count: 1.9 k.

Usually, things aren't what they look like, or how they appear to be. There's always something — a hidden element, that lies buried under layers and masks of pretension and appearance. This applies to minds, human minds at that. While someone may appear calm and collected, like they have everything in control; it can be a simple façade, an excuse to lay low and not raise any worry or suspicion. That's what happens with Carmy Anthony Berzatto.

Seeming like a quiet, observant, and focused man, the Chicago native and award-winning chef is a ball of chaos, misunderstanding, and anxiety all tangled up like a kitten in a ball of yarn, or a bear, for that matter; all lying under the sound of pans and sizzling oil, mixed up with the various and rich aromas of exquisite and thought-over dishes.

The fear, the feeling of being trapped inside of a non-existent cage, the frustration at not feeling deserving and worthy, valuable or talented, eats him slowly but surely, just like a tornado does with a small city. But in chaos, there's always a constant, something that doesn't change, and that somehow, keeps everything at bay, offering that bit of comfort that the sound of waves crashing against the shore brings — soft and tranquil, like a feather touch. And for the chef, that constant is you. When things are wrong, whenever the noise in his mind doesn't let him talk and express himself, you speak with him, you understand and comprehend him in a way that no one had been able to before. You were the calm to his raging storm.

Having met each other while he was working in Copenhagen, sharing a kitchen, and being part of the three Michelin star restaurant, you had seen first-hand the development that he had gone through. From wanting to prove his brother right, to finding his own little heaven in the culinary world, and slowly found yourself sharing that enjoyment with him. It started with little quips and teases while cooking or cutting vegetables beside each other, gradually turned into coincidental meet-ups in the walk-in fridge, or sneaky kisses and caresses when the day winded up to an end. The slowest burn of them all, acts of service being his primary love language, had swept you up your feet. Whenever you didn't share the same shift, you'd come home to a delicious home-cooked meal and a shared bottle of wine, along with your favorite series pre-recorded on the shitty TV of your apartment; and whenever you shared the same shift, he'd make sure that his girl was never tired or worn out, usually throwing in the usual 'I can take over this, take a break' or 'jus' tell me if you need anything, chef'.

So, when your little personal heaven was broken by the devastating news of Michael Berzatto, the bigger bear's death, it hit you straight in the face. After much debate and persuasion from Carmy's side for you to stay here while he crossed the globe to take over the family's restaurant, you easily found yourself on the plane seat next to his, discussing how he'd run the place — or how he preferred to say it, how you both would run the place.

If Carmen's inside storm wasn't enough, The Beef was an added bonus to it all. The place was dirty, disorganized, and just a general mess, you could smell the mold rotting inside the ceiling and such. The crew was probably the only salvageable part of it all, with Tina being a sweetheart to you since the beginning and Marcus trying his best not to be a nuisance — although you butted heads with Richie at any given opportunity, you knew that in a deep part in his heart, he also considered you 'cousin'. And let's not talk about Sydney, her nervousness but ambition reminded you of a younger self, and took her in your arms despite the closeness in age. Putting that aside, it wasn't enough. The money was short, the local was in bad condition and you could see how Carmen's image was turning duller and his dream was vanishing away, turning into a shell of the man he once was.

As if it was a gift sent from God above, a miracle happened and money started appearing inside tomato cans, Mikey's courtesy, and you swore you hadn't jumped and laughed so much in a single day. A rainbow was starting to show up behind those stormy clouds, and tears brimmed your eyes as you saw Carmen's face light up for the first time since coming back to Chicago. He really had the sweetest smile. With the money, came the wish of renovating The Beef into Carmen's wish -- The Bear, and it didn't take much convincing between the crew that it was a much-needed change.

With newfound hope and determination, you and Carmen embarked on the journey of transforming The Beef into The Bear. It was a daunting task, but with your combined skills and unwavering support for each other, you tackled each challenge head-on. Despite the wave of challenges that came with such a monumental task, the camaraderie among the crew only grew stronger. Late nights turned into early mornings as everyone worked tirelessly to bring Carmen's vision to fruition. Carmy's eye for detail ensured that every corner of the restaurant was immaculate, Tina made sure to keep a familiar, comfortable vibe in the now shiny and white kitchen, Marcus took his deserved time to learn about pastries, Sydney embraced herself in a path to find the perfect menu, while your knack for organization streamlined the renovation process. Even Richie, begrudgingly at first and with Fax's help, lent his "expertise" in carpentry and construction, proving to be an invaluable asset, or so it was before he flooded the restaurant with the ceiling's mold — all within 3 months before opening.

It turned into an even more special project when Natalie, or Sugar, agreed to officially join in and make a place for herself as the project manager while carrying a baby. The woman was a sweetheart, really, and the resemblance to Carmen was pretty much obvious.

Now, here we are, just 5 weeks away from opening, and the place is barely presentable. The fire prevention test keeps being negative and the menu is still in drafts, and because the fire prevention rest keeps failing, you can't move forward with the menu, and it becomes a never-ending cycle.

"Focaccia and Bucatini does sound like a great pair," you mutter as you lean against the metallic kitchen counter, eyeing Syd's scribbles regarding the menu. "but if we do that, we'll have to propose a richer dish for seconds since pasta can be a bit bland for some people."

"Yeah, that's why I thought about a T-Bone. Think of it, it makes sense to have a meat dish in the menu since it'd also serve as an homage to The Beef," the younger commented, circling the handwriting with a pen and looking up at you for approval, even though your eyes tell her everything she needs to know.

"I'd like for you to organize my whole life, please. You're a fucking lifesaver." Your right hand comes up to give Sydney's shoulder a tender squeeze before marching away deep inside the kitchen and trying to keep up with whatever's going on with the fridge.

In the cramped office that lies inside the office, Sugar works on the restaurant's financial plan while listening to the not-so-sweet melody of pots bumping against each other and Fak trying to explain himself and his doings. She scribbles a number to call for the fire prevention test before letting out a small sigh and rubbing her face with her hands. This being Sugar's office, however, it's just temporal and for the time being, being borrowed from Carmy since he's now too busy to even sit on the weary chair and do this himself. But it still holds his belongings — the NOMA book, Mikey's family meal spaghetti recipe, and a picture of the both of you, for instance. The latest catches Sugar's attention.

It's a simple photo of you and Carmen, in Copenhagen, framed in white wood with a simple crystal on top of it. Both of you had your chef coats on; you were leaning with both of your elbows on the kitchen counter while Carmy was next to you, leaning on his side while looking at the camera. The photo doesn't seem staged whatsoever, rather looking like it had been taken at a moment of distraction. The light that comes into the office is reflecting on the picture, and just then, Sugar can see a little smudge on the glass. The kiss mark atop your face in the picture emerges as she shifts. Sugar chuckles softly at the sight of the kiss mark, a testament to the intimacy and affection shared between you and Carmy. It's a moment of respite amidst the chaos, a reminder of the love that fuels the determination to overcome the hurdles they face.

Sugar's eyes soften as she notices the kiss mark on the glass, a gentle smile forming on her lips. She can't push herself to reach out to touch the smudge, feeling as, if she did, she'd break this gesture. To think of how far Carmy has come, from being closed-off and awkward to finding comfort in kissing his girlfriend's side of a photograph, makes Nat feel like her proudest big sister.

A knock at the door interrupts her reverie, and she quickly wipes away a stray tear before calling out, "Come in."

Tina, the sous chef, pokes her head through the door, her expression a mix of concern and determination. "Hey, Sugar. Just wanted to give you an update on the kitchen. We're making progress, but it's slow going with all the setbacks. Marcus is working on a new pastry recipe, and Sydney's tweaking the menu again. Oh, and Richie's attempting to fix the mess he made with the ceiling."

Sugar nods, grateful for Tina's update. "Thanks, Tina. Keep up the good work. We'll get through this."

As Tina leaves, Sugar's gaze returns to the photograph on the desk. She cherishes the passion and dedication she had seen in both you and Carmen during these past weeks, now recalling the numerous times she had noticed how you and Carmy had sneaked a kiss or hug when nobody was watching, or how he kept a hand on the small of your back when you were doing anything and he was nearby. Despite the challenges you faced, they always found a way to persevere, fueled by your shared love for cooking and each other.

With a renewed sense of determination, Sugar picks up the phone and dials the number for the fire prevention test. As she waits for someone to answer on the other end, she glances once more at the photograph, drawing strength from the love and resilience it represents.

"We'll make this work," she whispers to herself, her voice filled with conviction. And with that, she dives back into the task at hand, ready to tackle whatever challenges lie ahead and ensure that The Bear opens its doors to the world, just as you and Carmen had dreamed.

This might be chaos, an error, a mess, a raging storm waiting to be tamed, but a kiss smudge might just beat it all.

[veronicaphoenix]

Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Bonus Scene I (can be read as part 4)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Oliver Sykes x Reader | Words: 6.2k

Tags: polyamorous relationship, men in denial, a lot of swearing, angst, sexual content including p in v (protected), oral (m. receiving), masturbation.

Sheffield, United Kingdom

Summer 2024

I had barely wrapped the towel around my body when the sound of their escalating voices pierced through the tranquility of the house. 

         They were having an argument, and it wasn’t going good. 

         I rushed out of the bathroom and down to the living room, the urgency in my movements nearly causing me to lose my footing as I rounded the landing of Oliver’s home, my heart racing with a mix of confusion and concern. 

         Arriving in the living room, with my hair tied in a messy bun and my body clad only in the towel, I was met with a disconcerting sight. Oliver and Noah were standing in the middle of the living room, glaring, and shouting at each other. Both ignored me. Luna was conspicuously absent. 

         As I gazed between them, I noted their rigid positions and how charged their voices were. I had never seen them so heated. The smell of the heavy lunch we’d had that morning still lingered, but the atmosphere felt oppressive. The tv was murmuring in the background. Noah’s hoodie thrown casually on the armrest and Oliver’s MacBook still open on the other side of the sofa. 

         “Why all the shouting?” I questioned; my voice laced with concern as I surveyed the look on their faces, their expressions, and assessed how bad it could get from here. 

         Despite my presence, which usually incited their attention, they remained locked in the tense standoff, their focus solely fixated on each other. The air crackled with palpable agitation as accusations flew back and forth like arrows in a heated battle. 

         “Oliver here seems pretty convinced that I’m monopolizing your time, and that eventually I’ll keep you away from him, as if I’d ever sabotage this relationship,” Noah retorted bitterly, gesturing vehemently towards the man standing merely six feet from him. “Do you honestly believe I’d do such thing? What do you think I’m going to do to her, dude? Hide her passport so that she can’t travel anywhere? Burn yours so that you can’t leave this country?” 

         “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Oliver said, his voice dripping with frustration and resentment. 

         His bitter-edged response only continued to mount the tension, fueled by their sudden mutual distrust and resentment. Where was this all coming from? 

         “Oh, really? That’s what you think of me?” 

         Their voices grew louder, and I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of unease, a primal instinct warning of impending danger. 

         “Guys, please. Can you just…” They dismissed my attempt at diffusing the escalating conflict. I spotted Luna peering at us from behind the sofa. That’s where she had been; hiding. I couldn’t blame her. I had never seen Oliver and Noah acting like this towards each other, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me a little, too. “You’re scaring Luna,” I admonished, gathering some courage and adding a hint of anger to my tone. However, it seemed to have little effect on them.

         “You’re being ridiculous, Oliver. You’re being jealous over fucking nothing! We’re all in this together. You love her. I love her. We’re all invested in this relationship. We’re fucking her together. I love watching you fuck her. I understand that I spend more time with her because of our residence in the States, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about you every morning and every night.”

         As Noah’s words reverberated through the room and filled each corner, realization dawned on me. Of course, I had thought about this before, but I’d been too focused on my own happiness and pleasure that I hadn’t taken the time to address the issue. Now, as the fire grew in front of me, the problem was clear. 

         “Boys,” I said, taking a tentative step forward to position myself nearly in between their bodies. “Calm down. Please.” My hands were raised at level with their chests. I waited a few seconds, checking if my words had some effect. When I confirmed it and earned their looks, I spoke, “I think the problem is not about who’s spending more time with me,” I told them. “The problem is that you’re both fucking me but you’re not fucking each other.” It was blunt, but given their current state, I don’t think anything else would have made them redirect their focus to the real issue. 

         My blunt assessment seemed to freeze them in place, the weight of my words settling like a thick fog in the room. This was the crux of the matter, and I was determined to confront it head-on, even if the hardest part had to be sorted between them. 

         They went still, then. My words seemed to fill the room with prickling tension. This was the issue, and they were not going to change my mind. Ever since we started this relationship, I had expected for it to be more than just me getting fucked. 

         “You’re wrong,” Oliver protested after a tense pause, his voice tinged with defiance. “The problem is not sex. It’s just Noah being…”

         “Again!” Noah shouted. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I love her! And I love what the three of us have! Where is the fucking problem, man? Why are you being such a teenager?”

         “A teena—?”

         “Guys, stop! Please, stop!” This time, I pressed my hands to their chests, feeling the tension radiating through their bodies. They pressed against me. I feared that if I hadn’t been there, things might have escalated into a physical confrontation. “Oli,” I called out. He ignored me. “Oliver! Look at me. Listen to me.”

         It took a while, but eventually Oliver met my gaze. I eased the pressure of my hand on his chest, conveying through my touch that there was no need for defensiveness. Not with me.  

         “Do you feel like Noah is not spending enough time with you?” 

         Something crossed his eyes. 

         “Love, I swear it’s not that…” Oliver began, his voice softer now. I raised my hand, gesturing to silence him. 

         “I think the root of the problem lies with me,” I continued, turning my head to look at Noah. His chest was rising heavily, his nostrils flaring. If I hadn’t got out of the shower at the time I did, I might have made it downstairs to find him turned into a dragon. This was not the anger that he exuded on stage. This was real. This was raw. And it wasn’t nice. “I’ve been demanding too much from you without allowing you both the space to explore your own emotions and feelings toward each other.”

         Noah chuckled, and I glared at him. 

         “I think we made it clear plenty of times that we’re okay with this, being the three of us together,” Noah added. 

         “Yeah, but… There’s a line that you haven’t crossed. Every time it’s there, you both recoil, as if scared to cross it.”

         “We’re not scared,” Oliver was quick to say, his tone laced with bravado.  

         Noah had the same expression on his face, which told me that they were going to make this harder than required for me and for themselves.

         “Then, why are you shouting at each other? Why are you making such a fuss about something that could be solved in five minutes if you sit down and talk like the adults you are?” 

         “Because it’s not about that,” Oliver retorted.

         I raised an eyebrow.

         “You’re jealous,” I said. “Not jealous of Noah spending more time with me. Not jealous of Noah getting to eat me out. You’re jealous because he’s not sucking your cock.” 

         Oliver started saying my name, his cheeks flushed, but stopped midway, frozen. When I looked at Noah, he had an identical expression etched his face, and when his eyes crossed Oliver’s, they both looked away. 

         This would have been funny —cute, even— if it weren’t for how angry they were. I knew better than to make fun of their behavior when they were fuming and one step away from becoming rottweilers. 

         “And you’re just angry because you don’t know how to channel those emotions,” I continued telling Oliver, “and instead of telling that to Noah straight away or getting on your knees, you decide to shout at him and accuse him of monopolizing my time.” 

         “Because he is! Are you taking his side?”

         “That’s not what I’m doing,” I replied, turning to Noah. “You—.”

         “What have I done?! Is it my fault that we were born in America and live in the same city?” He exclaimed, raising his arms in the air. 

         I ignored his comment. 

         “You know exactly where his feelings come from because you feel the same! And instead of being honest with him, and with me, you shout back at him as if he was your enemy.”

         “You didn’t hear the things he said to me ten minutes ago,” Noah chided. 

         I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to know if Oliver had been serious.  

         “Did you mean them?” I asked Oliver. “Did you really mean them?”

         “No,” he admitted, resignation evident as he dropped his shoulders. 

         I sighed, hopeful that this meant we were getting somewhere; that I’d be able to bring back the peace. I had to admit, though, that the ambience had been tense since before Noah and I arrived. The last videocall between Noah and Oliver hadn’t been very nice, and the strain between them had lingered since then. I could have noticed, but instead I ignored it, selfishly focusing on the thought that I would get to have them both together again in a matter of days, as soon as our flight landed in London. 

         “Can we sit down so that we can discuss this calmly?” I urged, exasperation creeping into my voice.

         “No,” they both replied in unison, their synchronized loud response startling me.

         My eyes widened. I sighed, hard, feeling a mix of irritation and desperation. 

         “Fine, do it your way, but I will sit down.” I relented. I tightened the towel around my body and settled on the sofa. Their brief, shared glance at my bare legs didn’t escape my notice, but it was quickly overshadowed by the tension in the room.  

         “Is anyone else happy in this relationship besides me?” I asked with my arms folded defensively against the chill creeping into my body.  

         “Yes. I am,” Noah replied. “I’m happy, too, but this moron here fails to see it. He fails to see everything I did for this to work. I could’ve had you all to myself if—.”

         “There it is!” Oliver exploded, cutting off Noah’s words with the sharp edge of his tongue.  

         “Noah!” I admonished him, my tone and look conveying my disapproval at his choice of words. He shouldn’t have said that, regardless of whether it held any truth. He should not have said that.  

         “Oh, come on,” he retorted. “Don’t twist it now. I wouldn’t be here in this house if I wasn’t okay with what we have. I told you I’m okay with you fucking her,” he said to Oliver. “She loves you fucking her. And getting her to do what she loves matters to me more than anything else.”

         “It shouldn’t be like that,” I murmured softly. 

         Noah simply gazed at me. I could tell he was tired. He didn’t want to argue, but the complexities of his and Oliver’s dynamic had ensnared them in a tangled mess.

         “It’s clear that you two love fucking me, and I definitely love it, too, so no need to go through this again. Boys,” I changed my position, kneeling on the sofa cushions to meet their eyes with a pleading look, “do you doubt what I feel for you? I have no room for a single doubt regarding your feelings for me, but I’m willing to talk if any of you feel that I don’t love you enough, or that I favor one over the other.” 

         “Kitten…” Noah began, but it was Oliver’s fingers the ones that reached my chin. 

         “You’re everything we could’ve ever asked for. You haven’t done anything wrong, doll.” 

         “What about each other? Do you doubt each other?” I pressed, feeling a pang of cold as Oliver’s touch left my skin. “You have to talk to each other,” I insisted. “We’re not moving forward until you do.”

         For a moment, I thought I did it. I thought that I managed to break through the barriers between them, that they would finally sit down and have an open, honest conversation.  

         But I was wrong.

         They exchanged glances, communicating silently as they waited for the other to make a move.

         I felt a growl building in my throat, frustration bubbling up inside me.   

         “Why are you being so macho? What’s the need for this?” I demanded. “I have no problem with you being all dominant and rough with me. But you can also be every other side of yourselves, and it won’t change the way I see you.”

         I could see my words chipping away at their defenses, but it still wasn’t enough. My frustration grew with each passing moment, a sense of helplessness settling over me as they remained locked in that stupid standoff. 

         As my words hung in the air, challenging their stubborn resolve, I expected some sign of surrender, a flicker of realization in their eyes. But instead, their stances remained rigid, their expressions hardened by the weight of their unspoken turmoil. Oliver’s jaw tightened even further, his brows furrowing in defiance, while Noah’s eyes darted away, a silent admission of discomfort.

         It was as though my words had ricocheted off their armored walls, leaving me standing alone in the battlefield. Despite my efforts to bridge the chasm between them, their refusal to let down their guard only fueled my frustration further, a searing flame of helplessness burning within me.

         With a heavy sigh, I realized that I had reached the limits of my influence. 

         “This is it? You prefer to keep ignoring the elephant in the room? Both of you? For God’s sake… All right,” I stood up, crossing between their bodies and heading towards the stairs. Luna suddenly trailing behind me in a hurried way. Turning away, my footsteps heavy with disappointment, I left them to solve the problem on their own. “You can sleep in the sofa tonight. Or, I’ll take the sofa and you can take… the bed or the floor. I don’t care, but I’m not going to be a part of this anymore until the three of us are finally on the same boat. You’re being dicks to each other, and the three of us are going to pay for the consequences, eventually.”

         Standing there was like watching a slow-motion collision, where each avoided the inevitable crash, preferring the tension to confrontation. My outburst was a last-ditch effort, a desperate plea to break through the thick walls of pride and insecurity that kept them at odds. But as I stormed out, leaving them to their stubborn silence, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this impasse would persist until they found the courage to confront the truth they both feared.

I woke up to the chill of two empty sides on the bed, and a pang of loneliness pierced my chest. When I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I could see the sadness etched into every line of my face. 

         I washed away the traces of sleep and decided to make the bed, a subconscious effort to delay facing the reality awaiting me downstairs. 

         They hadn’t come upstairs to sleep. Oliver entered the bedroom around 8pm to grab some clothes and retrieve his and Noah’s toothbrush from the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but be speechless at how dramatic they were being.  

         Thirty minutes later, having attempted and failed to find some peace and strength in a short meditation on the balcony, I went downstairs with hushed footsteps. 

         I started preparing breakfast, not aiming to disturb their sleep, but the soft hum of the coffee machine and the clinking of plates and cups echoing in the open kitchen stirred Noah from his slumber. On the other side of the sofa, Oliver lay sprawled on his back, his hair tousled. As the deep sleeper he was, he only stirred slightly before settling back into his restful state. 

         I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. It seemed that at least one of us managed to get some decent rest, even if it was on the couch.  

         As Noah propped himself up on his forearms, his gaze drifted over to Oliver’s form, then down to the middle of the sofa where their legs lay entangled, hidden beneath the shared blanket.  The sight of their bodies occupying the entire sofa would have brought a smile to my lips were it not for the reason why they had spent the night there. I could only imagine them moving around and kicking each other during the night, adding another silly unnecessary thing to the pile of stuff they had been arguing about the evening before. 

         With a heavy sigh, Noah finally sat up and ran a hand through his face and hair.  

         “Morning,” he grumbled.

         “Morning,” I replied. 

         Noah took a quick bathroom break. When he came back, he walked with deliberate steps to where I was standing in the kitchen. He leaned in for a morning kiss that I was more than quick to give. He lingered by the kitchen isle to watch me make breakfast, accepting the coffee mug I offered and taking a sip while keeping his eyes on me. 

         “I expected you guys to come to bed at some point,” I said in a low voice, trying to conceal the twinge of hurt I felt at the fact that they had opted for sleeping on the couch instead of addressing their issues and joining me in bed. 

         “I wanted to,” Noah said, his voice tinged with regret, “but you made it clear that we needed to sort things out first, that you didn’t want us in bed with you if we didn’t, so…”

         I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. I placed my hands on the edge of the counter, exasperation crawling back to my bones. 

         “You know it wasn’t meant like that,” I sighed. “I was just trying to nudge you both into dealing with the real problem.”

         His silent response and the heaviness of his brown gaze on me confirmed my dreaded suspicion—he still wasn’t ready to. He still didn’t want to talk about it. Great.

         “Did you miss us?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence. 

         Typical Noah. Whenever he knew he’d messed up, he’d try to sidestep the issue with softness instead of facing it head-on. I couldn’t help but be surprised that even after the heated argument we’d had the day before, he was still reluctant to confront the elephant in the room. 

         But when he looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes, I suddenly became weak. 

         “Every minute,” I admitted, a bittersweet smile forming on my lips. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m used to being sandwiched between you two now. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a text, and waiting for both of you to show up at the bedroom door,” I shook my head. “God, I’m turning into such a sap.”

         My words elicited a laugh from him, one of my favorite sounds in the morning.  

         “You’ve always been a sap,” he teased, leaving the coffee mug aside and pulling me close until his hands found my waist. With no effort at all, he lifted me onto the counter. 

         Grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through the silky hair at his nape. He stepped between my legs, and I relished in the familiar warmth of his body against mine in the chilled morning.  

         “Did you talk?” I inquired softly, obviously referring to him and Oliver. 

         “Not much, to be honest,” he admitted. His forehead found mine as he leaned in. “I don’t know what to do.”

         Allowing a moment for him to relax in my arms, I gently brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead after pulling back to meet his eyes. 

         “I know you two are aware that this is not a relationship based solely on you two dating me,” I began, my voice tender. “We’re all in this together. We’re all dating each other. But you and Oli are struggling to come to terms with it,” I made a pause, my eyes boring into his, “or with what it means.”

         A flash of insecurity crossed Noah’s face, his usual self-confidence momentarily faltering. My heart ached for him.  

         “I’ve never been with a man before, baby,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.  

         I nodded, understanding without him needing to explain. Of course I knew. 

         “I had never been with two men,” I started to say, reaching out to touch his cheek gently, “but here I am, utterly in love and happy with both of them,” I tried to summon a reassuring smile, but Noah’s insecurity lingered, prompting me to continue speaking. “It was scary at first. I spent weeks worrying about what would happen, especially when we flew back home after Europe. But everything is so wonderful now, and I wish to keep it that way, but for that, we need the whole package, Noah. And that includes you and Oliver giving each other what you’re missing out,” I playfully bopped his nose, but he flinched, giving me an annoyed look. All right. “Also, I don’t think Oli’s ever been with another man, either” I added, glancing toward his sleeping form on the sofa. “So, it would be a first time for both of you.” 

         “Would you… like that? Oli and me?” Noah’s voice wavered with uncertainty. 

         I reached for a biscuit from a plate beside me, taking a bite and chewing slowly. After licking some crumbs from the corner of my lips, I casually rubbed the heel of my socked foot against the back of Noah’s thigh.

         “I’ve been thinking about sitting in the armchair in the bedroom and watch you and Oliver do nasty things to each other,” I said with a mischievous grin. 

         Noah narrowed his eyes at me.

         “You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”

         His teasing remark brought back a sense of normalcy, making me feel a bit relieved for the first time that morning after a restless night. 

         “So I’ve been told,” I replied nonchalantly, taking another bite of the biscuit. 

         Noah took the remaining biscuit from my hand and returned it to the plate before kissing me slowly, his hand cupping my cheek and his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear as our lips melded together. 

         “It’d make me really happy to see you together,” I said, placing my hands on his face and pulling back slightly to meet his gaze directly, “but I know it would make you and Oli even happier. You’re hungry for each other. I’ve seen it in the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. The sex is amazing, and we’re all satisfied, but you’re just dying to taste him and you’re too shy to make a move. Same with him, which is unusual,” I continued, drawing out my words as I shrugged my shoulders, “given how carefree he is with everything he says and does, including those impromptu cat walks when he’s wearing that silly maid outfit.” 

         We shared a laugh, the tension dissipating further before indulging in another lingering kiss. This was Noah’s way of seeking reassurance, and I was more than happy to oblige and give it to him. I would give him as many kisses as he needed. 

         “This is where all this tension is coming from”, I concluded, my voice softening once again. 

         Noah’s chest rose with a heavy sigh that said he finally admitted it. He released the breath he had been holding just as Luna appeared at our side, her eyes pleading for her morning walk.

         “Can you wait a bit, darling? We’ll take you out in a few minutes,” I said to her. 

         “I’ll take her out now,” came Oliver’s unexpected voice. 

         Noah and I startled at the interruption, Noah moving away from me as if caught in something criminal. Despite reaching out to him, my eyes focused on Oliver. 

         Oliver excused himself to go to the bathroom before I could open my mouth. He was still upset about what happened the night before, and I guess he didn’t like seeing me in Noah’s arms first thing in the morning, especially since that’s what started the arguments the day prior. 

         I reminded myself to stay calm. I’d have to go through the same talk with him to get him to the same place where Noah was.   

         “Oliver,” I said, my voice gentle yet firm. 

         “What?” came his response, edged with tension. He avoided looking at Noah. 

         Seeing them like this broke my heart and infuriated me simultaneously.  

         “You and Noah need to talk. Right now,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. 

         The whole situation was dripping with irony. I wanted to shout back at Oliver all the things he had preached about before we started this relationship—all that talk about communication being paramount to make this work. Where was all that now? 

         “We can talk later,” he replied, attempting to evade the conversation by calling out for Luna, who happily trotted towards her dad, tongue out and tail wagging. 

         “No,” I asserted, holding my ground. “You two are going to talk right now,” I insisted, positioning myself at a fair distance between both so it wouldn’t seem like I was taking sides.  “I swear, if either of you keeps dragging this out without reason, I will get on the first flight back to Los Angeles. So, decide right now. Do you want me to leave?” I directed the question to both of them. “Or do you want more? What’s it going to be?” 

         Oliver dropped his shoulders in resignation, a small victory amidst the tension. Noah was standing behind me. I could tell that he was ready to get it together and be honest with Oliver and with himself, but he would keep holding back until it was clear that Oliver was in the same boat. 

         Setting Luna’s leash down in the kitchen isle, Oliver caused Luna to drop her tail and tilt her head in confusion. Wasn’t he going to take her out? I made a mental note to go out with her later for a long walk, but right now, Oliver and Noah needed to have the conversation they’d been avoiding for months. 

          Oliver let himself fall onto the sofa, pushing the blanket that he and Noah had used during the night to the side without bothering to fold it. His green eyes met mine. Then, his gaze finally shifted to Noah. 

         “Come here,” Oliver said to Noah, patting the spot next to him. 

         Noah sat next to him, a huff coming out from him, his arms resting unpreoccupied between his legs. It took him a moment to turn his head toward Oliver, but when he did…

         They held each other’s gazes for a while. I don’t know what they felt in that moment, but I was certainly feeling the anticipation, my heartbeat increasing with each passing second. 

         Oliver raised his arm and then his fingers were touching Noah’s chin and lower lip. There was a question in his eyes, something that only they knew what it meant. 

         Then, they leaned into each other, and they kissed. 

         My breath caught in my throat, but as their mouths moved against each other, I found myself flooded by a sense of relief and… excitement. Was this supposed to be wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it. I was enjoying it very much, feeling pride for my boys and pride at myself for having achieved this. 

         Though they appeared entirely oblivious to my presence in the room, their movements seemed to align with the path I hoped they would follow. 

         As I contemplated where to position myself to observe the unfolding scene in that summer morning, Noah sank to his knees between Oliver’s legs, deftly undoing the laces of his sweatpants until he slid them down, taking his underwear along with them to his ankles. 

         A muttered curse escaped Oliver’s lips, betraying all the tension that had been following us since days prior. 

         Noah raised his eyes at him before daring to put his hands on his length. 

         “Is this what you want?” Noah asked him. 

         If he really wanted an answer, he didn’t wait for it. 

         His mouth swallowed his length, and within seconds, Oliver was leaning back on the sofa, clutching at the pillows with clenched fists, his lips parted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

         Had I imagined this scenario before today? Yes, I had, but never had I voiced it aloud, nor di I anticipate witnessing it, in all honesty, especially not amidst the chaos of the day’s events. 

         I was about to climb onto the counter to get a better view of Noah pleasuring Oliver when Oliver’s green eyes caught mine. 

         “Doll,” his voice was ragged, breathless, “why don’t you come over here and join us?” 

         Uncertain of his intentions, I approached them cautiously, licking my lips. Oliver gestured toward the corner of the room, his chest rising and falling as Noah continued his ministrations between his legs.  

         “Jesus Christ,” Oliver muttered before mustering the strength to focus back on me. “Doll, sit down and touch yourself. Don’t stand there watching us. This isn’t some damn show.”

          Noah hadn’t even lifted his head from Oliver’s lap, his attention entirely consumed by the task at hand, when he said, “Do it. Now.”

         Taking a deep breath, I settled onto the corner of the sofa, positioning myself to their view. Oliver’s gaze roamed over me, his struggle evident as Noah continued, relentless. 

         “Feet on the sofa. Panties off. Let me see you,” Oliver instructed, his voice restrained, indicating he was not far from the edge. 

         I complied, feeling a slight shyness creeping in. This was a scenario none of us were accustomed to. Slowly, I parted my legs, and Oliver raised an expectant eyebrow, silently urging me on. Without hesitation, I grasped the hem of my oversized shirt and lifted it, revealing the black thong I wore underneath. 

         “I said—” His voice was cut off abruptly as Noah took him deeper, to the back of his throat, “off,” Oliver growled, his demand leaving no room for negotiation. 

         With a quick movement, I lifted my hips and removed my thong, spreading my legs open to their gaze. As my fingers found their way to my clit, tracing soft circles around it, I sensed that we were in for a wild morning.  

         Barely two minutes into the act, Oliver let out a primal growl, his head thrown back, hands gripping Noah’s hair tightly as he pressed him against his crotch. With a soft ‘pop’, Noah released him, drawing in a deep breath and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 

         “Don’t tell me that was your first,” Oliver said, “because there’s no way I’m going to believe you.”

         Noah chuckled, his laughter momentarily dissipating the heat in the room. The sound would have relieved whatever remnants of tension and fear remained inside of me were it not for the fact that I was about to come myself. 

         “Definitely a first time,” Noah replied with a tilt of his head. Then, as if sensing my arousal, he turned his head towards me, and his smile fell. 

         He stood up, his hungry faze traveling from my face down to my exposed pussy. He had been so focused on Oliver that he hadn’t noticed the spectacle unfolding on the other side of the sofa. 

         Without uttering a word, Noah walked towards me. He didn’t need to bend down or extend an arm; he simply removed my hand and then, he just… touched me. 

         “You’re a mess,” he acknowledged, his fingers dragging slowly through my folds. 

         He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted me, causing the burning sensation inside of me to only intensify, threatening to consume me if I didn’t get their hands on me in the next few seconds. 

         “Oli,” Noah called out, glancing over his shoulder. “You good? She needs to be rewarded, don’t you think?”  

         “Sure she does,” he agreed, pulling up his sweatpants and running a hand through his hair. “Sit back,” he told Noah. “I’m going to enjoy this. Doll, do you want to ride Noah?” 

         “I don’t think you have to ask,” Noah added, a grin spreading across his face as he extended his arm towards me. 

         Grasping his hand, I moved myself onto his lap. Noah’s hands found my hips beneath the hem of my t-shirt, while Oliver took hold of my right hand, bringing it to his lips. 

         “You need to be rewarded for doing so good to us.”

         “Right?!” I exclaimed, raising my eyebrows at him with a smile. It wasn’t lost on me that he had been denying his desire for Noah to pleasure him for months. These men and their stubbornness… 

         “And you’re such a good, good girl to us.”

         “She is,” Noah agreed, his voice a whisper as his hands guided me onto one of his thighs, pressing me down against him, my dampness spreading onto the fabric of his sweatpants. 

         “Oh.”

         “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Come on, baby. Use me,” he urged, his hands steadying me with a firm grip on my hips. 

         “But…” I began, my face flushing crimson. 

         “I’ll fuck you in a moment, but I want you to use me first,” he insisted, his voice filled with desire.  

          Feeling self-conscious under the intense scrutiny of both men’s gazes, I opted to press my mouth to Noah’s as I began to grind against his thigh. He tasted like Oliver and the experience made me dizzy. Noah swallowed my moans eagerly, while Oliver urged me to go faster, his hand caressing my ass enticingly as I moved myself on top of Noah. 

         Lost in a haze of pleasure, at some point Oliver grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me towards him so that he could kiss me passionately, allowing Noah a breather.

         Eventually, I became a whimpering mess, my hands sliding down to find Noah’s bulge. I stroked it a few times with my open palm before deciding I couldn’t wait any longer. With deft fingers, I unlaced him and freed his cock. 

         Noah’s hand in my waist steadied me. 

         “You sure about this?” The question was directed to Oliver. There was concern in his voice. 

         Oliver dismissed it with a shake of his head. “That pussy is not going anywhere. It’s ours. So go on. Take her.”

         Noah nodded. I whined in his arms, hoping that he would just let me get him inside of him. 

         “Condom?” He asked, still directing his questions to Oli.

         Oliver disappeared briefly, returning with a condom package that he handed to Noah. However, I took it from his fingers. 

         “I’ll do it,” I offered, taking the package and swiftly sliding the condom onto Noah’s cock. 

         Lifting my hips slightly, I positioned myself above him and sank down, moaning softly, a melody that echoed in Noah’s ears and Oliver’s too. 

         “God, you’re so beautiful,” Oliver murmured in awe, watching each of my expressions like a hawk.  

         Resting my head on Noah’s shoulder, I began to move my hips in a rhythmic motion, gliding up and down, front to back, performing a dance on top of him that ignited a bigger fire inside of me. The intensity heightened when Oliver sneaked a hand between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit with precision. 

         “Come for us, babygirl,” Oliver said, his voice a seductive whisper. 

         Unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure, I surrendered to the sensations, especially as I felt Noah pulsating inside of me. His grip tightened on my hip, his other hand tangling in my hair as he pressed his face against my neck, emitting a primal roar against my skin as he released himself into the condom. 

         I dug my nails on his shoulders through his t-shirt as my own orgasm crashed over me, the waves of pleasure overwhelming me as Noah’s pulses still filled me up and Oliver’s fingers continued their relentless assault on my clit. 

         It took me a moment to find my voice amidst the euphoria. I asked Noah if he was okay, and he responded with a sloppy kiss on my jaw, a bright smile spreading across his face afterward. 

         I glanced at Oliver, who was watching us with admiration despite our dishevelled state. Not that he looked much better himself. 

         After nuzzling against Noah’s chest for a moment, I shifted myself towards Oliver. Wrapping my arms around his neck, half of my body still remained in Noah’s lap. Noah lifted my shirt to uncover my ass, giving it a playful slap before caressing it and dropping his head back with a contented sigh. 

         “Good talk,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice and eliciting laughter from all of us. 

         “Yeah,” Oliver agreed with a chuckle. “We should have more breakfasts like this.”

         Our moment of levity was abruptly interrupted by Luna’s barking. 

         She stood in the doorway, looking frustrated that we had completely forgotten about her. 

         “Oh, shit,” I said.

         Yeah, our bad habits were just about to get worse. 

SNIPPET FOR THE EPILOGUE

As I ascended the stairs, Luna faithfully trotted behind me, her tail wagging with excitement. When I reached the threshold of the room Oliver used as a study, a place where Noah and he often used to spend time composing music together, I found both of them leaning over the screen of a MacBook, engrossed in something. However, Oliver quickly closed his laptop as soon as I entered the room.

"Is something wrong?" I inquired, noticing the sudden shift in their behavior.

"Nothing," they replied simultaneously, their responses lacking conviction.

I raised an eyebrow. Noah brushed past me, planting a kiss on the crown of my head before casually asking about our trip preparations. It was clear he was attempting to divert the topic.

"What were you doing?" I pressed, sensing there was more to their interaction than they were letting on.

"Nothing. Just discussing some things about work," Oliver replied tersely. "I'm sorry. That was the last of it. Let's enjoy the trip now."

The attempt at convincing me was a total failure.

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[rebelwrites]

being friends with pierre/any driver and meeting charles through them (whether it be at a race or at a dinner or whatever) and you immediately hit it off and exchange numbers AAAAA

Christmas Party

Charles Leclerc x Reader

I have changed the request slightly hope you don’t mind. As this is a flash fic this hasn’t been edited.

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Taking one final drag of your smoke, you felt your face scrunch up in disgust. You had no idea why you had brought a fresh packet when you had quit the habit around 6 months ago. Shaking your head at yourself you tossed the cigarette butt into the small ashtray on the glass table behind you, looking over your shoulder you found yourself taking a deep breath, gaining the courage to head back inside Pierre’s apartment.

Tonight was the night of his famous Christmas party, every year you had heard all the stories that came from this one event but this was the first time in five years you were able to attend, due to your dick of an ex boyfriend trying to control your life, stopping you from spending Christmas with your best friend in Monaco. From the moment you arrived at Pierre’s you locked eyes with Charles, you were slightly confused as to how one look could get you feeling hot under the collar so to speak. You knew Charles had a bit of a reputation with the women, so any time you came to visit Pierre you made sure to avoid Leclerc.

Taking a deep breath you slipped back into the living room of the large apartment, once again locking eyes with the Monegasque, you found yourself quickly breaking eye contact, pushing your way through the bodies you made your way over to the makeshift bar for the evening.

“There you are,” Pierre hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Where have you been hiding all night, kiddo?”

“Ain’t been hiding, P,” you shrugged, knocking back the shot of vodka, scrunching your face up at the familiar burning sensation that quickly followed. “This dress and body is too good to be hidden away!” you smirked, gesturing down to the red low cut sparkly dress that fit your body like a second skin, causing your confidence to sky rocket.

“Have you spoken to Charles yet?” he asked, keeping his hand planted on your waist.

Pierre had been your best friend for the best part of 15 years, the two of you had a close relationship to the point people were always questioning if you two were dating or not. You and Kika always got a laugh out of the news articles trying to make out Pierre was cheating on her with you.

“Nope,” you mumbled, pulling the bottle of beer to your lips. You hadn’t told Pierre that you had a small crush on Charles, mainly for the fact you knew he would try and play cupid and get the two of you together.

“Come with me, you dork,” he smirked, grabbing your hand dragging you through the apartment over to Kika and Charles.

Charles couldn’t help himself as he watched you from across the room, from the moment you arrived at the party he couldn’t stop staring. The first time you locked eyes with each other he felt like someone had just punched him in the gut, he was struggling to catch his breath. The dress you had chosen hugged your body perfectly, showing just the perfect amount of cleavage. The fact the sparkly dress was red was an added bonus for him. It was safe to say red was your color and he wanted nothing more than to see you rocking his shirt early in the morning.

Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he brought the glass to his lips, still refusing to take his eyes off you. For some reason he lost any courage he had when it came to you so he could count on one hand the amount of conversations the pair of you had.

“You know you can’t avoid him forever,” Pierre whispered in your ear as you got closer to the man in question. “I can tell you are crushing hard on him.” You were just about to protest when he shook his head at you. “Girl I saw it the moment you two first met, there is a connection there and you refuse to acknowledge it.”

“P, you know what I don’t act on any feelings,” you sighed, taking another large swig of beer trying to drown the butterflies that were invading your stomach the closer you got to Charles and Kika.

Any confidence you felt had now disappeared, your stomach was churning as you stood next to Pierre refusing to make eye contact with Charles, you kept your gaze trained on your stiletto. You had no idea why he had this effect on you, but he made you feel like a teenager drunk on love.

“How’s work going?” Charles asked, stepping close to you as Pierre moved out of the way. His body was so close to yours and it was sending your heart rate through the roof.

“Urm, it’s okay I guess,” you nodded, pulling the beer bottle to your lips. You wanted nothing more than to be able to speak to him but it was like the words kept getting stuck in your throat. “I’m going for a smoke,” you mumbled, pushing your way past Charles.

The moment you stepped outside the chill of the winter air hit your skin, you felt like such an idiot, the boy was only making conversation and you couldn’t cope, running outside to escape. Pulling a cigarette to your lips you let your eyes flutter closed as you lit the smoke.

“You got a spare?”

The voice alone sent chills down your spine, you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Taking a long drag on the smoke you spun around on the balls of your feet, holding the open packet out in front of you. Charles smiled softly at you before taking one from the slightly crumpled box.

“Didn’t know you smoked?” you asked, rubbing your hand up your arm trying to get some warmth back into your skin, without warning suddenly you were wrapped in warmth as Charles draped his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of you said anything about the small gesture.

“I don’t smoke regularly, just every so often,” he nodded, letting the smoke hang from between his lips.

Silence fell over the two of you both, this was the first time the two of you had been alone in the same space. Turning your gaze you took in how content Charles looked, for the first time in months he actually looked relaxed. This year hadn’t been the best for him, you hated that over the course of this season you watched the sparkle in his eyes get duller each race.

“You look gorgeous in that dress by the way,” Charles said softly, gently nudging you with his elbow.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you said with a slight giggle.

“I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to,” he said, leaning against the brick wall, taking a quick drag of the smoke. “Everytime we are in the same room as each other, you always make some sort of excuse to leave, why? Have I done something to upset you?”

You knew you would have to confess at some point but you didn’t think it would be on the night before Christmas eve. Taking a deep breath you quickly lit up another cigarette taking a long drag on it before answering. “It’s stupid really,” you mumbled, trying not to let the nervousness take over. “You make me nervous, Charles.”

He stood there for a moment processing the words that had just fallen out of your mouth, a few seconds later the corners of his lips started tugging into a smirk as he pushed himself off the wall, closing the gap between the two of you.

“So that is why you have been avoiding me,” he whispered, brushing his fingers down your cheeks, you instantly felt your skin heat up from his touch. The feeling of his body pressed against yours just felt right and like it was meant to be. “Do you like me Y/N?”

The words got caught in your throat so all you could do was slowly nod your head whilst breaking eye contact with him. Charles was making you feel things you had never felt with anyone before,not even with your ex.

“Babygirl,” he breathed, placing his thumb under your chin, lifting your head up so he could see into your eyes. “For the last year I have done everything I could to gain your attention and nothing seemed to work, Y/N from the moment Pierre introduced us I felt a connection with you, but you were with that prick and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

You could hear the sadness in his voice and that caused a sharp pain in your chest. This boy had been watching from the sidelines, watching how you were treated like a piece of dirt and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Let me treat you how you should be treated,” he breathed, brushing his noses against yours, the feeling of his breath on your skin sent you into a frenzy. “I can tell you feel the connection as well.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you got lost in his green eyes, the way the moonlight was causing them to sparkle had to be one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen.

Could you get involved with someone again? Your heart was fragile and you didn’t know if you had the strength to piece it back together when it got broken again.

“I swear, I’m not going to do anything to break your heart,” Charles whispered as if he was reading your mind. “So what do you say Y/N, wanna see where this goes?”

Taking a deep breath you finally listened to your heart, one that had been bandaged back together but in this moment it was only beating to the Monegasque that was standing in front of you.

“Only if we take things slow,” you whispered, hiding your hands in his jacket, quickly finding his phone. A small smile appeared on your face as you pulled the device from the pocket. Quickly you turned it around so the screen was facing Charles, meaning the phone unlocked, once you had access to it you punched your phone number into the keypad before hitting call. “Now you have my number,” you giggled, handing him his phone back.

“Best Christmas gift ever,” he winked, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head before quickly taking a picture of the two of you.

You never would have thought that the one year you were finally able to attend your best friend’s Christmas party you would be getting up close and personal with the guy you had been crushing hard on.

There was magic in the air and it felt like for once Santa had finally granted your Christmas wish.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @livo676 @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungariann @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo

[sicbaby]

sended this to another acc i really like but ill send this here too :p

vendetta!leon with the biggest corruption kink ever and the girl (reader) that lives in the house just next to his, that always make sure to wish him to "have a good day" when she sees him and gets all red when he says it back, that when she bakes something she always make sure to save some to give it to him, and she tries to have a "friendship" with him so bad but he always seems to ignore her

and he does tries to ignore her because he knows he is def not a good man, he knows it so he always try to show to her that he is not a person, but shes just too stupid to realize that to the point that it makes him a little annoyed and worried for her, it still makes him hard lol

i love vendetta leon cause let’s be real he’s the biggest piece of shit alive and he’s an alcoholic so added bonus! i fantasize about him treating me like shit… anyways.

i imagine reader being a bit of a bimbo of some sort. like so dumb in the brain that there’s absolutely no room for sad or depressing or actual real thoughts that would ruin her day. and leon’s the exact opposite. all he thinks about is sad, fucked up shit that would probably make you vomit on the spot. but he likes that about you, your innocence. it makes him a bit sick, realizing he wants to do nothing but take advantage of you and expose you to the dark thoughts he has.

he can’t deny you’re sexy. those short skirts and low cut tops that have your breasts practically spilling out when you wave good morning to him. the crush you have on him is so painfully obvious. leon isn’t used to that. are you his type? not exactly. but he thinks he could have some fun with you.

he doesn’t start getting annoyed until you start leaving shit on his porch. cute notes, food items, weird love letters that look like a middle schooler made them with cute stickers and heart doodles all over. he’s a grown ass adult for christ sake. he rips up the letters, leaves the remnants on the porch for you to see.

you do see it, makes your heart wrench. yet you keep trying. you really, really like him.

in one last attempt at trying to get his full attention, you take over some food to his house, not just leaving it on the porch this time.

leon answers the door with a scowl on his face. he sees the food and your hopeful smile. “come in.” he grumbles, no greeting necessary. it ticks him a bit that you genuinely think you could win him over this way. your heart flutters as you walk in, taking in his messy house, setting the food down on the counter.

“you know, sweetheart. i’m not an easy man to please. yet, here you are…” he trails off.

you’re so nervous, face burning and throat so dry you feel like throwing up. “i-i just.. wanted to be a good neighbor, you know?”

“bullshit.” he responds quickly, makes you flinch slightly. he couldn’t help himself.

“a good neighbor,” he repeats, a dark chuckle following it. “is that really what you think? you think leaving me food and love letters makes you some kind of saint? don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. this isn’t about being a good neighbor. it’s about you wanting something from me. something you can’t seem to get through that empty, pretty little head of yours.”

he enjoys watching your facial expressions. your smile faltering, face turning into uncertainty. he knows he has the power to turn you into anything he wanted. it was too easy. he called you pretty, though!

“you think i’m some prize, some object to be won, don’t you?” he continues. you’re stunned, mouth open slightly, wanting to interject but nothing comes out.

“relax,” he chuckles. “i’ll let you have me. but i want something from you, first.” he says, inching closer to you, trapping you against the counter. his words were not a promise, merely a trick to get you to give yourself up to him. but he probably didn’t even have to “trick you.” one word and you’d be on his knees for him, wouldn’t you?

you nod eagerly, just as predicted. god, it makes him laugh, it makes him hard. how’d he get so lucky? you didn’t even put up a fight. “anything. i’ll do anything.”

those words triggered something in his brain. and you had absolutely no idea what he was going to do to you. he grabs you by the wrist roughly, leading you to his dark bedroom, throwing you on the bed. he starts degrading you, calling you “slut” and commands you to address him as “sir,” or maybe even “master.” (he’s a sick fuck let’s be real, wants you to be his dumb little pet.)

he could see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, but you both know you had already given yourself up to him. but that didn’t really matter to him anyway.

he crawls over you, pinning your arms up above your head, kissing at your neck. you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he did so. it made your stomach churn but made your panties wet.

he continues to practically rip your clothes off, muttering things along the lines of “you’re mine now,” “such a pretty little slut,” etc,. every single movement he makes is rough. including spanking, choking, unleashing all his pent up anger, his darkest desires onto you. your pleasure comes second to his.

you’re completely at his mercy, almost like a toy to him. but you like him so much, so you let him :(. you just wanna be his dumb girl.

he ends up fucking you in every single position until you’re a drooling, senseless mess.

not only were you his dumb girl, but you were his slut, his toy, his possession. and in the end, that’s all that mattered to you. at least now, you were finally his.

[baratiddyappreciator]

Cuddling the Baki Cast (NSFW)

Minors DNI and all that, you guys know better. I had a lot of fun with these ones, changed up the order a bit, and also carried over the bonus Yanagi, Oliva, Chiharu and Gaia, at the cost of taking out Tokugawa because I apparently can't sexualize that particular old man. DW, You'll still get your old man fix though ;) These are a bit longer than the initial ones because I'm not as restrained when I can just put the cut right beneath my little blurb and write... Well, sin. Also guess who finally decided to whip out colours so things are clearer :D (it's me)

NSFW under the cut!

Baki:

Cuddling with him always comes with a risk. A risk of being interrupted by some upstart trying to challenge him, or his dad, for some godforsaken reason. Sometimes he gets a sudden spurt of energy and feels the need to just disappear and go train for a few hours, but sometimes, and sometimes, like now, you feel his hands start to snake around your sides and under your shirt, higher and higher towards your chest as his previously innocent kisses turn hungry and deliberate against your throat. His fingers tweak your nipples as his lips meet yours, his hips bumping softly against your own, his legs urging yours apart so he can make room for himself, grinding against you hard and slow. He was all over, kissing you, grinding against you, playing with your nipples.

He didn't want to take his hands off of your chest, so it was up to you to reach down to pull your pants and underwear down. He didn't get the luxury treatment for being lazy, of course, the most he got was you clumsily undoing his pants and pulling him out of his boxers so he could grind against your eager little hole for a little bit before he pressed in, rolling slightly so that he could press both of his knees to the futon beneath the two of you, rolling his hips, his hands still cupping your chest, but now using it as a form of handhold so he could pull you back down onto his cock, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your hear.

"You're driving me wild baby doll."

Kozue:

She liked having music playing while you two cuddled. She said it added to the atmosphere, helped soothe you two into a comfortable, zen mood, and sometimes even into sleep. But other times, it was helpful for covering up the sounds of her breathless gasps. Your teeth gently came down on the shell of her ear as your fingers slid over her slick clit, her hips pressed back against yours, her own hand cupping you through your pants, providing you the friction you needed as you ground against her palm, her shirt pulled up exposing her chest to the now slightly chilly air. She'd been working so hard lately, it was only fair that you help her take off the edge so she doesn't burn herself out.

She gasped slightly louder, her other hand grabbing frantically at her pillow to muffle her voice, her hips bucking against your palm as your fingers circled her clit faster and harder, her face turning slightly so you could kiss her properly. She was shaking, so close to the edge that you could almost taste it, feeling the minute twitches in her thighs and her lower stomach, her ragged breaths hitching as hit-pitched whines escaped her.

"Baby please, I'm so close already."

Hanayama:

Having him crawl into bed after coming home dead tired was always a treat. He'd normally keep the lights off and not notice that you woke up the second the front door opened. You could tell what kind of mood he was in just by how he took off his shoes. And today was a mood that you could get behind. His hand slid up your thigh over the blankets, tickling you as his weight settled behind you only a moment later, the blankets being pulled down slightly. He knew you were awake at this point, you couldn't help the stupid grin on your face as he found you naked as the day you were born in bed, waiting for him. A soft swear was muttered under his breath, before you felt his cock slap against your ass, encouraging you angle your hips up and back so he could make you feel good.

And of course, you obeyed. Why wouldn't you? This was the kind of cuddling that you didn't mind in the slightest. The delicious stretch you felt as he pressed into you was exactly what you've been needing all night. You've been lonely without him. His forehead pressed against the back of your head, hips rolling slowly to get used to the feeling before he sat up, his hand settling on your lower back, guiding your hips back to meet his in a tiny thrust, your only hint of playfulness in him before you were jostled forward by a hard snap of his hips, your hands scrabbling at the pillows for purchase.

"That's it, be good for me and take it."

Chiharu:

He was a bundle of nerves during regular cuddling, always worried that he'd do something wrong and freak you out or hurt you. He's not as strong as some of the guys in the arena, but he's still plenty powerful you know! This time, however, you were the one worried about freaking him out as your hand travelled lower and lower down his torso towards his hips, innocently looking up at him as you toyed with his zipper, your hips wiggling slightly. He looked flabbergasted, eyes flicking between your eyes and your hand, then back to your eyes, and finally down to your lips as he licked his own. This would be fun, you could tell as he gave you a tiny nod, and you started unbuckling him.

His shaft was hot and heavy in your hand as you slowly pumped him, his hand resting on your ass, slowly starting to creep around to slide beneath your pants and sink into your eager hole. It's only fair that he return the favour, right? His head fell back slightly, a groan leaving him, before his head came back to but against yours gently, his brow furrowed, his unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes glassy and filled with pleasure locked with your own as you jerked him off, still smug, but you couldn't stop your hips from rocking back against his hand as his fingers gently rubbed at your insides.

"Fuck me doll, you're making my brain melt."

Katsumi:

Warm. You normally woke up warm, but now you were almost too warm as Katsumi tossed your legs over his thighs, hands cupping your chest, rolling your pert nipples between his pointers and thumbs, kissing you hungrily. You loved it when he woke up and decided his morning run could be replaced by ramming you into the mattress, his hips slowly rolling against yours as he sank into you slowly, the stretch delicious as he pressed in and pulled out time and time again. One of his hands left your chest to gently rest at the base of your throat, your only warning that he was about to pick up the pace before he was off to the races.

His hips slammed into yours, the wet sound of your bodies joining amplified in the room as he used your throat to pull you back down on his cock after he jostled you forward, his hair messy, lightly panting before he flashed a smile at you, your legs cinching around his waist and giving him a little squeeze, drawing him in deeper, closer, and he didn't hesitate to throw his head back and let out a low moan that vibrated through the air, making you scrambled to reach up and cover his smirking lips.

"Come on sweetheart, the neighbours already hate us, have some fun."

Jack:

Your hands were braced on his chest, firm and strong. He was big and sturdy, one of his hands resting on your thigh, the other on your hip, thumb pointing down to give you that extra bit of stimulation as your hips rocked against his hard, a deep groan leaving his lips as his head fell back against the arm of the couch, his cock pressing deep into you, hitting parts that you'd previously never known about before meeting him. His hips rolled in tandem with yours, timing it just right so that he'd press in as you rocked back, sending him deeper into you in just the right way that made you feel like you were going to explode.

His eyes were glazed over as he brought his head back, low moans tumbling from his parted lips as he watched you ride him. One of your hands moved up and squeezed the base of his thick neck, earning a louder moan, his hips bucking up sharply, though he rubbed at your thigh in apology immediately after, he knew he had to behave. Sometimes him assuming that you had no ulterior motives to crawling into his lap had its benefits, like the flustered look on his face when you'd started griding your hips onto his only moments ago. He growled against your lips as you leaned down to kiss him.

"Fuck honey, keep going, just like that, I've needed it all day."

Gaia:

The first time he'd slotted his thigh between your legs while you were watching your show, you'd slapped it away playfully. He knew how much you liked this show, surely he wouldn't bother you while you were watching the new episode, right? But his thigh bumped between your legs again, and another time after that, one of his hands resting on your hips to guide them down on his leg, his other massaging the base of your throat. He was, apparently, going to make you miss this episode, forcing you to watch it some other time, which really wasn't the same. He nipped at the shell of your ear, impishly smiling at you when you glared at him from over your shoulder, though you both knew that it was half-hearted at best.

He had you grinding against his thigh on your own in no time, extremely proud of himself for providing the perfect distraction at just the right time, his own hips chasing yours with each roll forward and down, basking in your little whimpers and sighs as he brought pleasure to you, his hand rhythmically squeezing at the base of your neck in time with your increasingly desperate thrusts against his leg.

"What's the matter sweetheart? Can't focus?"

Kosho:

His hands, you decided, were fucking dangerous. You'd just been trying to snuggle up to him, it was cold tonight, and now you were pinned to his chest, squirming and bucking your hips as he fucked you on his fingers, his other hand holding your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eyes as his palm made a slick slapping noise whenever it made contact with your skin, pleasure rising from each forceful impact, each crook of his fingers. You could feel him, fully hard, pressed against your stomach, but he wasn't going to let you touch him yet.

No, that was for people who behaved and didn't make him lose his comfortable spot when he was so close to falling asleep. He wasn't genuinely mad, that you both knew, but he was going to make a point, and he was going to make sure that it got across before he gave you his dick. You made a choked noise as his fingers hit a spot that made you see stars, and he smirked.

"Are you warm enough now, babydoll?"

Kureha:

Cuddling with Kureha was dangerous for a multitude of reasons. For starters, sometimes he'd just sit in silence, and then come out and say that your heartbeat was irregular and that it was annoying him. Other times? Well, other times you'd wind up where you were now, with your legs over his shoulders as his mouth worked wonders on you on your couch, the freshly folded laundry knocked all over the floor during the excitement. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his crotch, the angle awkward, but allowing for access.

Your movements were sloppy, because of course they were, he was making your brain leak out of your ears with what his tongue was doing to you, but he knew better than to expect perfection from you while he was going down on you, settling for the sloppy, jerky handjob he was getting from you, well aware that you'd get better after he helped you cum.

"Darling I love you, but if you don't give me some more grip, I'm going to lose it."

Retsu:

You loved how you could absolutely blindside this man by asking him to cuddle you. A quick cuddle on the couch, that was all you'd asked for, and he'd given it to you. What he hadn't realised was that it was all a clever ploy for you to find a way to suck his dick before he went and trained. He'd made some really good food for supper the night before, and now he was going to get cherished, absolutely fucking appreciated, the idiot.

Your head bobbed, and the couch groaned under the force of his grip, his hands shaking as he whined, hips shallowly bucking into your mouth, drool slicking his shaft, wanting to touch, but not wanting to at the same time. His face was bright red and twisted in pleasure, and if you could take a picture and frame it, you'd keep it beside your bed so you could see it every morning and every night.

"Love, please- Gods- Don't stop!"

Oliva:

Telling him about any of your fantasies was a huge mistake. Why? Because now he had you pegged. Literally and figuratively. He knew what you'd like, and he'd used that to get to where you where now, bouncing on his cock, your hands braced on his knees as his hand, settled on your lower back, guiding you up and down on him, that damn smirk playing across his lips, like he was proud of himself (he was, he absolutely was and he wouldn't hide that).

There was a brief moment where his guiding hand stopped, but only so that the other hand could give your ass a "light tap". The resounding slap rang out in the room, earning a strangled moan as you threw your head back, hearing that all too familiar chuckle.

"That's it honey, take it just like that."

Doppo:

You'd both had long days, so you'd settled for just lounging around the house, wrapped up in a blanket, watching whatever was on TV at the time. But Doppo had keen eyes and a golden tongue, he saw the way you'd kept rubbing your thighs together- hell, he'd felt it- and he wasn't about to let you end your night horny. And you would have appreciated that fact more if he hadn't put you in a damn headlock and decided to fuck your soul out. His hips pounded against yours, slick smeared across both of your skin, his arms powerful steel rods around your head and neck, choking, but not entirely.

Broken, garbled little sounds left your lips, but he only chuckled, pausing for only a second to readjust and reposition his hips to hit that spot he knew drove you absolutely insane and would usually have you cumming so hard you'd start crying, his arms flexing harder for just a moment, completely cutting off your air supply, and your eyes rolled. You could just see the proud smirk on his lips as he laughed breathlessly.

"Come on baby, I said I'd make it all better, didn't I?"

Shibukawa:

You really should have known that you couldn't out-sly the master. You thought you were being clever by offering him your lap so you could cop a feel, but that hadn't turned out the way you were expecting at all. As it stood, he currently had you pinned to the ground and was fucking your thighs almost painfully slowly, chuckling in your ear. He was so close, yet so far from you, and it drove you mad with need.

He wasn't evil, of course, just mischievous, so he was kind enough to at least direct his thrusts upwards once in a while for a short period so you'd get some stimulation beyond in your thighs, his grip so firm that it was almost guaranteed that you wouldn't be able to writhe away.

"Do you see now darling? You can't pull a fast one on me."

Yanagi:

His hand covered your mouth, but he wasn't trying to kill you. No, he was trying to shut you up so you wouldn't make the neighbours freak out and call the cops as he slammed his hips against yours, your eyes rolling back as he hit a spot that made you see stars. All of this because you insisted on being so needy right after his escape from prison. His hand came down on your ass again, earning a jolt as the sharp sting shot through your body like a gun.

His fingers flexed, moving slightly, making sure that his palm wouldn't entirely cover your mouth so you could breathe, but they immediately moved back at the loud sob you let out as he hissed sharply, sucking air in through his teeth.

"Now now sweetheart, if you keep making noises like that I'll have to leave."

Motobe:

You thought you'd won the lottery by getting Motobe to cuddle with you. He was warm, comfortable, and relaxed. And then he'd started cleaning his damn sword. Of course, you could still relax, hell, you even started to drift off to sleep until the movement of his arms changed slightly, a new, slick noise rousing you from your dozing. His breath came out in short pants as he grabbed your hand, squeezing it around his shaft as he kissed your forehead. Not this was a sword you could get behind cleaning.

Of course, there was something much better at cleaning his sword than your hand, and he wasted no time sinking straight into the hilt, earning a long whine as he pulled you down onto his hips, smirking up at you as your hips rolled and bucked against his, desperate for some form of relief, your hands braced on his shoulders, gasping as he simply leaned back, lighting and taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched you bounce on his cock.

"There you go baby, take care of me just like that."

[y2ashlee]

Which spoon are they: Twisted Wonderland

Riddle: Big Spoon wants to be little spoon but his pride won’t let him.

Trey: Big Spoon but wouldn’t mind being the little spoon once in a while.

Cater: Little Spoon but would be Big Spoon if asked.

Deuce: Chopsticks to afraid to move regardless. Will hug back after awhile before getting to flustered.

Ace: Big spoon his ego wouldn’t allow it any other way.

Leona: Spatula he lays on you or you lay on him he might hug you back but very rarely so don’t get your hopes up.

Ruggie: Spork he’s ready for anything you wanna be big spoon he’ll let you.

Jack: Soup Spoon you will be engulfed in his arms and chest his tail will be wagging he but will deny it if asked if he does.

Azul: Normal regular spoon you hug him he hugs you perfect, takes time to get to that point though.

Jade: Knife you’ll never know what he’ll do maybe he’ll let you just hug him or maybe he’ll just hold your hand and maybe he’ll just wrap you up in his arms and legs.

Floyd: Whisk you’ll be stuck in his arms and legs as he’s wrapped around you. You might be able to make a break for it while he’s asleep.

Kalim: Big Spoon but likes being the little spoon.

Jamil: Spoon just hug him cuddle him he needs it he’s exhausted.

Vil: Fork will let you cuddle him but won’t do much cuddling if he has a busy schedule the next day.

Rook: Spork ready for anything but be careful what you ask for.

Epel: Little Spoon but don’t tell anyone it’ll break him.

Idia: Tea Spoon hug and cuddle him as much as you can just give him time to warm up to it every time.

Ortho: (Platonic) Blender you can hug him but it’ll probably hurt eventually since he’s a robot all his motors and fans will probably burn you after a while.

Malleus: Ladel is happy as along as you are in his arms. And good luck getting out of those arms.

Lilia: Potato Peeler good luck trying to get him to cuddle normally.

Silver: Palette Knife he’ll probably be asleep before you get into bed so hug him and he’ll probably hug you while he sleeps.

Sebek: Steak Knife good luck getting him to hug you back.

Crewel: Big Spoon plus bonus puppy dogs if you’re ok with that.

Vargas: The Biggest Spoon you can think of does this mean he’ll hug you back? Maybe? Probably.

Sam: Just Spoon he’ll hug you, you hug him win win he might try to sell you a special 40% off going once going twice deal of somesort.

Chenya: Plastic Spoon why is he doing that how is he doing that oh god just be normal!!! Just kidding he’s a table spoon he’ll lay on you like you are the bed.

Neige: Just a normal Spoon will cuddle you happily.

Rollo: Good luck getting him to let you sleep in the same bed you’ll be in the single bed 5 feet away from him like any normal godly couple.

Just kidding

Skewer you can cuddle him but he might bite back about it.

I’m not counting adding the Birdman. I will not elaborate further.

~~~