You sighed, slumping back into the curvature of your office chair. Another day, another 10 rejected job applications, and another 10 or so hours you'd sat scrolling Indeed for another job. After getting fired from Valdivian, Mac had watched you spend countless hours scrolling about for something new, dateviators perched on your nose. You'd spent so long scrolling, in fact, that you'd totally forgotten that you were supposed to be meeting Chance, your D20 at the Breaker Box in an hour! Mac sighed softly and closed all your windows, and pulled up your calendar "Y/N... Are you forgetting something?" They hummed, watching your eyes widen, and your scramble to tidy your desk a little, as the realisation dawns upon you...

You'd never want Chance to feel like you had forgotten hanging out with him, especially not after he'd confided in you that he'd been tossed around before, and you hurried your way into the bathroom, where Amir and Barry were waiting for you, and Johnny had already started the shower. "Darling! We knew you wouldn't forget your hot date!" Amir beamed, as he took your jacket, and you blushed profusely as you stepped into the shower. "Amirrrr, it's not a date..." You grumbled. “Just a few drinks between a GM and his intrepid hero” is how Chance had worded it, and you couldn’t help but wish that it was... But Chance is your best friend out of all the dateables, and you're not about to ruin that now! And besides, he literally took Penelope on a date last week, so you know you don’t stand a chance… 

“Y’know, hun, if that sack of dice can’t see how gorgeous you are, then do not sweat it!” Barry coos as he starts on your hair as you get out of the shower, blowdrying it while Amir runs off to get closet Dorian and Harper’s help choosing an outfit for you. “Barry… He’s already…” Barry cuts you off with a gentle hand on your chin, and a smile. “You are dazzling, darling, now let’s get you feeling good before you head off to meet your man.” Your eyes roll a little, but you can’t help but giggle at Barry’s kind words as he fashions your hair into a glamorous curled updo, and beats your face with his makeup expertise, making you look like you’ve come straight out of a Hollywood movie.

In the meantime, a very nervous Chance paces around in the attic, while Parker, your loveable board games, holds two shirts and a set of dice. “C’mon, Chance! It’s just a shirt, fella!” Parker holds both of them up, as Chance stops to look at him. “Ah, I know, I know its just… I don’t wanna make this date a critical fail…” He looks at the shirt and takes the left one out of Parker’s hand. A crisp, off white, with the faint pattern of a map across it. With a soft sigh, Parker claps a hand on the d20’s broad shoulder, and pulls him into a hug “Awh, buddy! There’s no way that’ll happen! I even rolled for your relationship and it said love! The dice never lie, Chance!” The broader man chuckles deeply, as he slips the shirt on, and does up the buttons. Not being in his usual dungeon master outfit felt odd, but he wanted to have you saying ‘holy crit’ when he walked into the bar. He stands in the mirror for a moment, smoothing down his shirt and slipping a deep burgundy waistcoat over the top, buttoning it around himself, before pinning a little D20 to the collar of his shirt. A low whistle erupts from Parker as he leans against a beam in the attic and Chance finds his cheeks a little pink “Oh, she is gonna Eat. You. Up!” Parker laughs, as Chance mumbles and folds a little pocket square into the pocket of his waistcoat. “Thanks, Park… I’m just really nervous that's all. I mean, what if I’ve gotten the totally wrong idea, a-and she doesn’t feel the same way at all!” Sweat beads at his forehead at the concept of rejection, the idea that you’d turn down his advances and remain best friends. Of course, he’d oblige and tell you to stop by for a snack whenever you'd like, but he knew he’d never live down loving his very dearest traveller. 

Back in the bathroom, Amir had zipped you into a slinky red silk dress, a slit in the thigh, and an all too low neckline, bust practically spilling out. You’d protested the choice at first, fearing it was too much, or worrying about a bra to go with it, but Harper thrust a beautiful set of black lingerie your way, insisting that a little peek of lace and the D12 charm was sure to keep Chance committed to you forever. You smoothed down the front of the dress, and Dorian gave you a low whistle. “That dice is a very very lucky man, Y/N, and if he misses his shot with you, then I’ll be damned” He smiled down at you, giving you a kiss on the forehead, as Barry mumbled something about not ruining the powder on your face. With a little courage from the dateables, you headed down to the Breaker Box, to wait for your brave adventurer to arrive.

Chance hated being late to anything, and being late to this? Now that felt like a nat 1. You’d ben sat at the bar for about 15 minutes, swirling the red wine in your glass around idly, as Eddie was pouring drinks for the few others there. Ever the clumsy man, Chance bumped a table with his hip on his way in, hissing a quiet “Crit, that hurt..” before looking up and…

Freezing. Chance was absolutely glued to the spot for a second, eyes raking over your form, over every curve, the way your dress clung to you in ways he wished he could. He swore he could feel himself drooling, only snapped out of his sleazy trance by your voice calling his name. “Chance! Are you alright?!” You fret, your hand on his shoulder leaving a trail of heat in his wake as he floated back to reality with a red blush planted firmly on his cheeks. He let out an awkward chuckle, hand flying to the back of his neck in embarrassment “I’m- I’m all good! Clearly didn’t roll a very good perception check-” You laughed along with him, as you both head back over to the bar, and Eddie pops up behind them. “The usual?” He asked Chance, who replied with a sheepish nod, as Eddie went to shake him up with a strawberry daiquiri. 

“I didn’t take you for a cutie lil drink kinda guy, Chance!” You giggled, as he tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours and not on your plunging neckline. “Yeah, well, you know me, I uh, I’m a fruity kinda guy-” You giggled at his words, glass of wine at your lips, as he backtracked on his words, Eddie slid the daiquiri towards Chance,with a wink you missed, and Chance drinks it a little too fast, eliciting a sweet giggle from you, one that made the swell of your soft breasts heave, and made Chance’s pants a little tighter around the crotch. “A long day of writing campaigns, Chance?” You hum warmly, leaning forward a little, not helping Chance’s pants situation. “I- Uh, yeah, yeah, you could say that” He laughed awkwardly, Eddie already mixing Chance a second drink, sensing he needed a little liquid courage for the evening. 

After a few drinks each, and a good catch up about your latest campaign and all the new dungeons Chance was planning, you both found yourselves on the dance floor, crowded by others, the lights low and music loud. Jean Loo was rapping up a storm, and all the objects were having a wonderful time under the hot lights, and Chance was oh so hot under his collar. The way you threw your head back laughing at his jokes, the way your ass brushed up against his thigh every so often as you two danced was driving him insane. The only thing that could ruin this night was the way he saw trap Dorian look you up and down, eyes transfixed on your swaying hips, or how Jerry would always try and inch his way closer to you on the dancefloor. The constant eyes and hands of others drove him to stumble his way to the bar with you in tow, ordering two baby Guinness shots, pushing one towards you with a big bashful smile. You both knocked them back, the sweet taste of the liquor coating your mouth and lowering both of your inhibitions. Eddie throws you both a look, noticing the way your personal space seems to intwine, the hand you place on his chest, playing with his pocket square idly. “Is this new?” You slurred softly, thumb running over the fabric as you looked up at him, half lidded, through your mascara coated lashes, and Chance swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobs and you found your eyes fixated on its gentle movement as he speaks, a little lower and gruffer, throat coated by the several rounds he’d thrown back. “Mhn, bought it just for this date-” 

“Date?” You asked, a pink blush creeping up your neck. A date? You thought, and horror flashes across Chance’s face for a second “This… This is a date, Chance?” You asked slowly, still playing with his pocket square as his face reddens to match the deep rouge of his waistcoat “I- I-” He stuttered, cheeks glowing red, as you caught his hand in yours gently. “Do you- Do you wanna nip outside and talk about this, Chance?” You asked softly, and he nodded, both of you headed to the little smoking area just outside the Breaker Box. His hands wrung nervously and his eyes looked glassy behind those red shades. As soon as you’re alone, he starts babbling incessantly “Look- I-I totally understand if you don’t want that, a-and we’ll still be best friend-” 

Your finger fell over his lip softly and you looked at him with a hazy mix of adoration and desire “Chance… I thought it was you who didn’t feel the same… I mean- You literally took Penelope out last week-” 

“To make you jealous, Y/N… I didn’t even want to, i-it was Mac’s idea-” he slurred, alcohol letting his words slip away, and you couldn't help but giggle, and wrap your arms around his neck, half to balance you, half to pull his face down to just inches away from yours. His words stumbled to a stop, as your breath graced across his lips, now parted with a gentle pant. “Chance. You don’t need to do anything to get me to want you, to love you, to need you. You just need to say the word and I’m yours” You whispered, and you watched his inhibition snap as his warm, soft hand cupped your cheek and he crashed his lips against yours in a sloppy, heated kiss. Chance wasted no time in making you know just how badly he’d been wanting - no- needing your lips against his, the taste of cream liqueur mixing with your natural sweet taste and his own saliva. You let a soft whine escape your mouth and he took that as his sign to slip his tongue past the barrier of your lips and teeth, probing and fighting against your own as his hands grab your hips and dig firmly into your soft flesh, skirt bunching under his fingers. He pressed your back against the smoking shelter, and thanked the Gods that you were alone. 

After a few minutes of his, his lips moved to nip and bite the soft expanse of your neck, licking a stripe up to your ear, and he whispered, low and gravelly. “I can’t do what I need to do to you here, princess, lemme get us back to my dice bag.” You nodded fervently and the trip back to his dice bag was painfully slow, but the second you both got there, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing you against the wall, lips reconnecting to your neck to continue a hickey he’d been masterfully creating. As his teeth sunk into your most sensitive spot, you whined, hips bucking against his clothed bulge, and he groaned against your skin, a hand sliding up to wrap around your neck loosely. “Traffic lights alright with you, princess?” He asked gruffly as you nodded, leg hiking up around his hip “Green- I’m so so green baby” You squeak as his hand tightens around the sides of your throat, lips kissing up your shoulder before he pulled your dress strap down with his teeth, the top dropping to your waist to show him your tits, held up by the sheer black fabric. Chance bit back a growl as he moved lower, teeth now at the edge of the cup, as he looked up at you and smirked “This what you wanted. Princess? Wanted to end here, with me, huh? Look at you, pretty girl, all dolled up for me.” He hummed, the filthy noise that escaped you racing straight to his throbbing cock, as he pulled the cup down, licking a wide stripe across your pert nipple, your chest puffing out for more friction. “C-Chance…” You whimpered, as his teeth graze the pink nub, hand releasing your throat to come down to your other breast, kneading the soft flesh with his palm. “Go on, princess, tell me what you want me to do.” 

“P-Please Chance-” Your moan floated in the air like it was made to be there and Chance looked up at you, watching your head tilt back and your lip catch between your teeth. “Y-your mouth, please” He smiled, latching off your nipple with a wet pop, hands running down your soft thighs, pushing them apart so he could see your soaked panties. A thumb finds its way between your legs, pushing against your clit over the fabric, causing you to whimper and roll your hips into him. He chuckled darkly, and hooked your leg over his shoulder before taking a deep breath in. “Fuck,” he hissed, a rare profanity from the d20, “You smell fucking divine Y/N.”  He wasted no time hooking his fingers around your panties and he yanked them down, before burying his face in your sopping cunt, as you clapped a hand over your mouth to absorb a sweet moan. 

Once he was down there, any resolve to come back up faded, his tongue lapping against your entrance needily, slow stripes through your folds making your legs turn to jelly, buckling under the pleasure. Chance took this as his opportunity to wrap your other leg around his shoulder, essentially sitting you on his face upright. His hands moved to your back, holding you straight as he stood, your cunt pressed against his face as he stumbled his way to his bedroom, kicking the door open and lowering you onto his bed. You’d no idea he was so damn strong, but you decided to press about that later, your mind immediately drawn back to him at the feeling of two thick digits sliding into your hole. The stretch snapped you out of your thoughts of his strength, and your back arched for him, earning you a low growl against your slick cunt. “Taste like heaven, Princess” He uttered into you, tongue lapping at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Chance could feel you tightening around his fingers, sliding in and out, scissoring open and closed to stretch you out. The second your hands knotted in his hair, his eyes snapped up to you, locking on yours with a devilish glint, and you felt that knot in your abdomen untangle, a splash of wetness flooding Chance’s mouth, shirt and bed, leaving him panting and looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“O-Oh my stars, Chance- I am so sor-” He nipped your thigh to silence your apology and smirked as he stood, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders. “Princess, im gonna need you to do that again for me sometime, because holy crit that was sexy” He chuckled, before shoving his pants onto the floor, cock straining against his wet boxers. “For now, need you to spread for me, princess” He growls, pulling the boxers off, cock standing to attention against his soft stomach. It’s slightly smaller than average, but by Gods, it was thick, pulsing softly, a dribble of precum rolling down his shaft as he grabbed your legs, pushing them backwards, folding you into a mating press beneath him, tip grazing your entrance, causing you both to hiss. “Fuck, Y/N… You need this bad, huh?” You nod, gazing up at him in a lusty haze. “Need you Chance… Need you to fill me.” Something in his eyes flickers, and with a rough snap of his hips, he’s buried to the hilt inside you, a sharp scream of his name echoing his dice bag, as he snaps his hips back, and then forth back into you. “Want me to fill you, huh? Want to pump that tight cunt with my cum, huh Princess?” You babbled, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as his thick shaft drove its way deeper and deeper into you, hands holding your legs back, his lip bitten as he thrusts, eyes transfixed on your tits, bouncing softly for him. 

“That’s my girl, gonna take me all, huh?” He groaned, pressing closer to you, so he could peck along your collarbone as he fucks up into you, clearly just as turned on by this as you. “Gonna take my cum, baby? Gonna let me fuck you till you’re full? God, you’ll make such a pretty mommy” He grunted, his filthy words bringing you closer and closer, and he could feel it. He felt it in the way your pussy held onto his cock for dear life and the way your nails clawed patterns down his back and his chest, like he’d just come out of a close fight with a monster in a dungeon. As he rammed himself into your gummy spot, stars exploded behind your eyes, and behind Chance’s, his lips soft against your collar as he filled you with warm, sticky semen. “Fuck… Fuck… Y/N…” He mumbled against your skin as he came down from his high, cock still buried to the hilt as he rolled, pulling you on top of his chest, his nose in your hair. 

“Chance, that was… You are… perfect” You chuckled and he breathed in the scent of sex, sweat and the sweet linger of your perfume. “Hey, that's my line…” He laughed softly as he started to soften inside you, and moved to pull out, but you placed your hand on his hip. “No, no, keep it there… It feels nice to be full of you.” Chance laughs and obliges, pushing himself back in as he yanks the covers of his bed over the both of you, rolling again to spoon you, his hands tracing circles over your soft stomach.

His outburst, sudden and aggressive, left you slack jawed. His twinkish form melted away and out from the shell crawled a massive, cold creature that laughed loud enough to leave a ringing in your ears. Skip’s poured back into the globes shadow and you just stared, a mind emptied in shock, long enough that the Dateviators beeped a warning and went dead leaving you to simmer in quiet frustration. 

You prepared for bed slowly, methodically, using the silence to quell your anger. It’s fine, you thought, scraping your toothbrush against your teeth. It’s cool, you whisper into the still air.  If you all lived in this house together it’s best to approach these disagreements with a level head - so Skip’s can have his outburst, in fact, all of them are owed a tantrum or two! You could ignore how absurd it was for a human being to bow to the odd, needling tempers of household objects and broad concepts! Skylar's Suspension of Disbelief relied on it! 

When you woke, you decided to try your very best and deal with your new friends with kindness and a level head. 

Your good will was not rewarded. 

So far you’d spent a miserable day; splitting yet another screaming match between Harper and Dirk, falling out with Dante with misplaced honesty, arguing with Dishy over internet access, and Arma declaring her hatred for you for not trusting her (always) blaring alarm. It’s safe to say you were a little tense. 

But you held onto your patience with an iron, bruising grip. Like a saint, you thought, as you approached the ever looming shadow.

With one last charge on the Dateviators, you had hoped that Skips would have long since calmed down and prepared an apology for his outburst, open to repairing the mere fracture in your budding relationship. With a deep breath, you focused the beam onto the shadow, and like a smoke bomb Skips burst forth in a cloud of grey and blue with cawing laughter.

“Skips-” You start, hoping to pause his dramatics, but he interrupts you with such volume you take a step back in shock. 

“Remember, I’m always watching!” 

"Let's figure this ou-!"

"FWA HAHAHA!!"

You scream, good and loud, frustration bubbling up like popped champagne.

“God dammit it!” You damn near pull the hair from your scalp, before pointing at Skip’s looming body with a stiff and shaking finger, “You're screaming at me in my own damn house?! My house? Fuck this!”

You spin on your heel, bumping into Keyes who appears in your peripheral, scolding words at the tip of her tongue, but you scream again and her face falls to shock. You storm through your living room, faces popping out of thin air to witness the drama. Faces of people who had been difficult and passive aggressive and patronising and downright mean when you were just trying to exist in the house you pay for! Fuck this indeed, you think, muttering curses under your breath all the way as you pull a suitcase from under you bed and begin to stuff whatever you can reach inside. Betty kneels beside you, a soft hand reaching for your shoulder, “Sweetheart…”

You zip up with a flourish, scrambling to your feet with little dignity, and take a deep shuddering breath. 

“I am not going to sit in this house with inanimate objects who have a bad- no, any sort of opinion on me!” You shout, stumbling briefly with your suitcase before throwing it down the stairs with abandon.  You don’t watch it tumble down, you pull out your phone to order a cab, but Phoenicia stands before you with a worried look, “You're upset, I know, but there’s no need to leave.”

“Yes, dear,” Celia rounds the corner, startling you, and you notice again the crowd forming behind her on the tight landing, “Let’s all calm down and-”

You rip the Dateviators off. 

…Peace and quiet. 

The dull colours of your house were an instant relief. You hadn’t noticed that your heart was beating out of your chest so you sat on the top step with weary bones, throwing the glasses to the side with little thought. You couldn’t stay here a moment longer. Even with no glasses tinting your vision, you couldn’t ignore a hundred eyes watching your every move.

You ordered the cab, nothing to startle or interfere, and descended to the front door with heavy steps. It’s best to wait outside, you decide, perhaps the night air might chill some of the rage in your blood but when you place your hand on the knob it doesn’t budge. 

“Dorian,” You seethe, a voice so guttural you'd worry if you were in the right state of mind, "I'll jump through the office window, I really really will.”

You stare at wood grain, a silent test of will.  

Maybe it’s the vein popping on your forehead or the formidable grip you have as you rattle the knob that confirms to Dorian that you really do mean it, but as you turn for the office the front door clicks and creaks open. 

The night air did, in fact, soothe.

When a small, noisy drone tries your patience again it’s easy enough to rip in from the sky and stomp on it till screws and scrap remain. 

When he hears about your vacation from either you or some other object, he’s immediately grumpy. You’re leaving? Without him? How many days will you be gone? Why are you doing this? Where are you going?

He becomes more clingy before you go. He’ll hold your hand, hug you, and press kisses to your face, but there’s always a feeling of desperation in his touches.

Low-key acts like he’s about to become a windowed mother.

You’re the only one that understands him and his teachings, so he’s probably hit the hardest by this news.

Prays for you, begging ‘Him’ to bring you back safely.

When you actually go on the trip, it’s a disaster back at home. He becomes even more persistent in his teachings in an attempt to distract himself, but also more snappy.

After a few more days he eventually stops and just starts counting down the days till you’re back, refusing to talk to anyone.

He’s mainly worried about if you’ll come back or not. He’s used to people making excuses to get away from him, what if this was another excuse? What if you never returned?

When you do eventually return the first thing you come home to is Errol wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. "Blessed day, my beloved returns to me… you haven’t been tainted, have you?"

Just because you’ve finally returned does not mean Errol becomes any less clingy, in fact, he seems more happy than before, he’s smiling more often, praising you at any moment, staring at you longingly, and now it seems he always has to have a hand on you.

It seems your absence has given him time to reflect, and realize how much you mean to him.

You’re going on a mission, awesome! He’s coming with you, right? HE’S NOT??!!

Cries, cries so much… "Ranger! What do you mean you’re leaving me??! I love you Ranger PLEASE DON’T LEAVEEE!!!"

Insists he needs to be there to protect you from swarmers.

When he finally realizes he can’t come with you, he acts like you’ve fallen in battle. "*sniff* Ranger… I’ll miss you, I’LL MISS YOU SO MUCH!! Y-you were the best partner I could’ve asked for!”

But when he’s not crying, he’s putting unnecessary and illegal things in your suit case for safety, no Luke, you can’t bring grenadines and a machine gun. How he got them? Idk

Before your vacation, he gives you so many hugs, and holds you so tight you think you’ll break something.

Instead of going on a vacation, he thinks you’re going on a super secret and dangerous mission, so he becomes more paranoid.

Promises to guard the house outpost with his life when you leave, and he’ll tell amazing stories about you.

So when you do leave, that’s all the other objects hear about, you, how much he misses you, all the things you did together, how pretty your limbs are…

Oh, and he becomes even more paranoid, raising his gun to anyone who ‘sneaks up’ on him or comes to close, over exaggerating Timmy knocking over a cup (yeah Timmy stays away from Luke now…), and giving in to the ‘faces in the walls’ more easily.

When you come home, the house is a wreck, but you don’t have time to process that because there is a muscular hunk about to jump on you. "Ranger!! Thank the Immortal’s you’re alive!! And all of your pretty limbs are intact!!!”

Even if you do catch him, you’re falling, and the wind is being knocked out of you, and now you have a bruise on your back.

He’s crying, sobbing, and yelling about how me missed you and how he didn’t think you were going to make it back alive, but how he should’ve never doubted you.

And the bruise you have on the back, must’ve been caused by a monster, definitely not there because Luke jumped on you. "Ranger! Your back is purple! You must’ve been attacked by a [insert monster]!”

Like Errol, he becomes way more clingy, but cheerful, he thinks you’re badass for kicking swarmer butt all by yourself!

Still, never leave him again, for his sake, and the houses.

Once she hears you’re going on a vacation, she knows she won’t be able to come, I mean, she’s a mini bar.

Tries to act happy for you but you can tell how depressed this news is making her.

Her eyes become more tired and droopy, her smile wavers, and her posture slouches.

She also starts drinking more often, objects who come to her bar find her waisted most of the time, leading the bar to temporarily close.

She’s constantly hanging off your arm now.

She refuses to tell you why she’s upset though, not wanting to ruin your trip, but little bits slip out when she’s drunk.

When you do leave it leads to her venting to other objects while wasted. "I just… don’t understand why [preferred pronouns] would want to go on a trip… I’m hot and sexy! Like… you have a whole view, right here!”

Some objects empathize with her, some are annoyed and tell her to fuck off, and some just feel trapped.

When you do return you’ll most likely find her drunk, like, really drunk. And when she sees you, all the feelings and thoughts spill out.

You’ll also find your other objects are really tired from her rambling.

But if you hold her she’ll fall asleep in your arms.

When she wakes up the next day, she’ll profusely apologize for her behavior the day before, please comfort her.

He hated that look on you, how he saw you spiral. Barry personally took it up on himself to help you through it, starting with getting you out of your bed. He had somehow managed to lure you out of your comforting sheets and blankets and into the bathroom.

The change of scenery was good for you, though you tried avoiding the mirror as much as possible as soon as you entered. "Darling, I know you haven't been feeling well recently..." He said, which was quickly followed by a quiet 'understatement of the year' from you. Barry gave you an unimpressed look before continuing on, "and I've decided it's my job to help you feel better. And what better way than to pamper you? Hmmm?" His smile is bright as he leans down to lift you by your legs, sitting you down on the bathroom counter, facing away from the mirror.

Him picking you up was surprising, and you watched your hands onto his collar for support while he did so. The hard surface of the bathroom counter settled underneath you, yet even when Barry let go of your legs you kept your grip on his collar. It was comforting to hold onto him. "You- you don't have to do that for me" you murmur, kicking your feet slightly as if toying with the idea of just jumping off the counter and going back to bed. "But of course I do dear! You're my gorgeous beloved, and I will not have any of this-" he gestures vaguely around your face "continue any longer."

Your heart hammers at how much he cares, simply nodding and watching as he grabs his makeup from behind you to be closer. His mobility is limited due to you still holding onto him. "I ..." You want to protest, to tell him you're fine and to let you go to bed, but the look he gives you before you can even start is sweet but almost threatening. "Okay."

It's a struggle for him to work around your hands holding onto him, holding him so close, but he makes it work because he knows it's a comfort for you to have him close. You've told him as much plenty of times in the past, he remembers them all. The makeup he puts on you is nothing drastic, it's mostly skin care to help with what you've missed due to skipping said skin care. Any actual makeup products he puts on you is so natural most people wouldn't notice at first glance, they'd have to look close to really notice your beauty was amplified by make-up.

When he's all done, he sets everything down and smiles at you, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek before picking you up, again, by surprise, again. You let out a startled gasp as he holds you up by your thighs, turning around so he faces the wall and you face the mirror. It takes a moment for you to get used to the position before you understand what he wants, hands finally leaving his collar to lean over his shoulder and into the counter. Touching your face with a hand, you admire how your ragged and oily face changed into what you're used to; a face you could love on every surface.

"Barry..." You mutter, leaning back and wrapping your legs around him to help him hold you better. To get a better balance you grab his collar again, and before he can say anything you lean down and press a sweet kiss on his lips. He obviously reciprocates, mourning the loss of your lips when you pull back. "Thank you, B. I don't know what I'd do without you" and when you finish saying your piece you dive back in and kiss him again, with a little more aggression than before.