#another anon of fine taste I see

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

[katz-rambles]

hey 💞

I love your work!!! Could I please request something sweet, with Sevika from Arcane?

thanks so much, keep up the great work!

I LOVE SEVIKA!! MY WIFE!

Tysm anon!! I'm so glad you like my writing, it means so much to me!!

THIS GIF IS DOING THINGS TO ME GOOD LORD SHES SO FINE

(fluff, fem!reader, it gets steamy at the end, but nothing is described, Sevika is a smoker (I'm a smoker), so reader smokes as well, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

You're sitting on Sevikas lap, your head buried in her neck, and her mechanical arm wrapped around you. It's calm, as she's gambling. Every now and then you look over to see how she's doing, you know she'd never lose but it still provides a form of entertainment.

You heat her chuckle and lay her cards down and you see the colour drain from the man's face as he sees that he's lost once more. “Pay up.” She smirks, glaring at him, as he pushes his chips towards her. She grabs her cigarette from the holder and takes a deep inhale of it, blowing the smoke away from your face and then offering you a drag, which you gladly accept, and flick the ash into the tray. The man scowls at Sevika and she laughs, “what? If you want your money back, you've gotta be better.” She clicks her tongue and pulls you closer to her, you wrap your arms around her neck and shuffle so you're sitting sideways and can see the man's expressions, he's glaring at her as he takes a big swig of his beer. He sighs and stands up, leaving with his tail in between his legs. “You see, pretty girl, some people just don't know how to play.” Sevika scoffs into your ear, her voice low and it sends shivers down your spine, when she places a kiss to the curve of your shoulder you lean into her.

She offers you another drag of her still burning cigarette and you take it from her, noticing the way she stares at your lips when you take the drag. She leans down and connects her lips with yours, taking the smoke and inhaling it. Soon after another two sit down in front of you two, one of them placing down a glass of, what looks to be, whisky.

Sevika grabs the cards and shuffles them, dealing them evenly and smirking. Then the game starts, you're watching intently, taking in their expressions. The man on the right has an amazing poker face, you almost weren't able to read it. The guy on the left, not so much, he kept a flat face but his eyes told too much. You bring your head back up to one of Sevikas shoulders and whisper, “neither of them got good cards.. you should be able to win easily.” She smirks and tightens her grip on your waist at your words. The cold and harsh metal of her arm shocks you when it meets your bare skin, one of the metal fingers just barely slipped under the hem of your shirt. You grab the cigarette and take a bigger drag than last time, blowing the smoke towards the two men and smirking when you hear one of them cough and wave his hand in front of his face. You can taste the tobacco clinging to your teeth.

“Well, one of you has to hurry and do something.” She scoffs and leans back in the chair. Clicking her tongue to hurry them up.

The game goes by quite quickly, and just as you suspected, neither of them had very good cards. By the end, they both look pale. They've almost lost all their chips. Soon after, the game ended, and not surprisingly at all, Sevika won. She shoos them both away and leans down to your ear, “thank you, baby.” She kisses the shell of your ear and then pulls back. She takes one last drag of the cigarette and then gives the rest of it to you.

You stand up off her lap, and she gets up. You wait at the bar while she goes to collect the money she won. When she's finished, she grabs your hand and gently pulls you along. The humid air of the under-city immediately hits you, suddenly wanting to go back to the comfortable temperature of The Last Drop. The walk to your apartment isn't long, and you live in a slightly, better part of the under-city. So you don't even think of complaining about it, plus, from your apartment, you have an, almost, clear view of the sky.

You grab your keys and open the door, letting Sevika step inside before you. She shrugs off her cloak and hangs it up by the door. She goes into the kitchen and grabs two bottles of water, tossing you one of them. You both sit down on the couch, you lean into her, and she wraps her arm around you. It's one of the moments where Sevika is really Sevika and not one of the most feared people of the under-city. She lets you see a side of her no one else has the privilege of seeing.

The silence isn't an awkward one that seems to hang in the air. Instead, it's a calm and comforting one, where you two just enjoy each other's company. “I had a nice evening,” you smile up at her, breaking the silence, and she pets your hair, and you speak up again, "did you?” She chuckles at your question and kisses your forehead. Her lips linger for a few seconds before she actually pulls away from you. “Any time I spend with you is a good time.” She teases, laughing when she sees your flustered expression. She pulls you up into her lap and kisses your lips, you can taste the tobacco from her cigarette, a bitterness of the beer she had drank before she went over to gamble, and a slight twinge of blood. Probably, one of the guys didn't want to pay up.

“I love you so much, my pretty girl.” Sevika mumbles in between kisses, and you can feel her lips curl into a smile when you kiss her again. “I love you, too.” You say back, kissing her once again. She rests her hands on your waist and traces strange figures and shapes into your skin. The coolness of the metal makes you squeak, and she laughs when you pull away from her lips. When you look up and out the window, you can see the stars shining, contrasting to the dark sky. It's a little difficult to see them from the haze that the under-city has, but it's a sight both you and Sevika enjoy, so you point it out, and she turns.

“Starlight,” you say, breaking the silence once more. “Hmm?” Sevika looks over at you, one eyebrow cooked. “You have pet names you call me, so that's what I'm calling you. Starlight.” You continue, and she smiles at you and kisses you once again. “I like that.” She sighs as she kisses you. She pushes you down onto the couch, and this time, it's your turn to laugh. You gently push her up and smirk at her. “Why don't we take this to the bedroom? I'm sure it would be more comfortable that way.”

[eupheme]

hey baby i would so love another threesome with logan & wade. except maybe some action between wade & logan as the reader watches and touches herself?

ooh hi anon! 👀 thank you for sending this in! I would absolutely love to explore more with them - I have a little drabble for you below! 💖 (and hopefully similar moments in later chapters of the poly fic!)

logan howlett x wade wilson x f!reader | 200 words

tags: poly relationship, spanking, anal, mast

You have to admit - you like seeing Wade like this.

Blissed out. Belly-down against the mattress, as he babbles. Hands grip at his waist, as Logan buries himself again - a muffled groan lost into the sheets.

You also like that Logan can give him what he wants. That firm hand he craves, one that now curls around a hip - slips beneath.

Wrapping around as Wade whines, the muscles in his back stringing tight as he ruts into Logan’s fist.

“This what you need?” Logan rumbles - the low timbre shooting straight through you, “So fucked out you can’t do this yourself?”

“Fuck. Feels better when it’s you,” Wade groans, “Bop it, twist it, pull it, I don’t care. Just don’t fucking stop-“

A hand cracks down against his ass in response, the moan Wade makes is filthy.

It makes your fingers circle faster. A little hitch in your breath as your thighs inch wider. The sound pulls his attention - those dark eyes fluttering open, lips parting.

“Leaving you alone, gorgeous.” Wade breathes - hands hooking under your thighs. Trying to tug you closer - to fit his mouth between them and taste you.

“Uh-uh. This is all about you, baby.” You smile - as you squirm away. Two fingers slipping down, sinking deep. Setting the same rhythm as the lazy pump of Logan’s hips, as they both groan.

“I’m doing just fine right here.”

thank you again! 💖

[artdcnaldson]

Has reader ever just had a "i have to get out" moment in the changeover universe?

Like art is trying to talk to her after sex and shes just staring at the wall re thinking her decisions.

They are very toxic and i know the reader has feelings for them so i think art would have been very smothering ir clingy if reader made any atempts at going out with another circle of friends and distancing herself

(im sorry i over analyse many situations 😭)

Anon… i love u <3 I love this messy main character bc i too would throw away my scruples for this man.

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Toxic situationship, manipulation kinda, mild angst

Summary: You say something you shouldn’t. It messes up the fucked up equilibrium that you and Art had found in whatever you could call the relationship you had together.

FEBRUARY 2007

For Valentine’s Day, you got Art a teddy bear and a box of chocolates. He got you nothing. He wasn’t your boyfriend, so you didn’t know why you were upset about it, but you were. It stung like a fresh wound, one you could never just let be.

The two of you fucked, because that’s what you always did. The feeling of his mouth on yours, warm and tasting of mint, almost made you forgive him for not getting you anything. He called you beautiful, let his hands trace your body reverently, made you cum once, twice before he pulled you into his lap and let you sink onto him.

His forehead was against yours, breath coming in pants as you rode him, bodies pressed so close it almost felt like making love. Maybe that’s why you said it— the words tumbling out like a prayer.

I love you, Art.

He was tense, for a moment, brows furrowed slightly, before he kissed you and laid you onto your back. He pulled another orgasm from an impossible place within you, one you didn’t know existed. He came, messy on your thighs, and rolled over onto his back.

It was quiet, and you felt so far away from him. Your fingers brushed against his hand, testing, but he pulled them away and stood to redress. It was so quiet that you could hear blood pumping in your ears, like an ocean.

”You shouldn’t say stuff like that,” was what he finally said.

Your lip wobbled, just slightly. And then tears pooled on your lashline. “Sorry,” you said weakly.

“It’s fine.” But you had a sinking suspicion that you’d really fucked up. He handed you a towel, and you cleaned yourself up as best as you could while fighting frustrated tears.

”Are you leaving?” You asked. He was standing in between yours and your roommate’s bed, like he hadn’t quite decided yet. You pulled on a tee shirt and underwear and gave him a pathetic, pleading expression. ”Don’t leave, please. I didn’t mean it. We can watch a movie.”

He acquiesced, and let you cling to his side pathetically after you pulled out a portable DVD player. You split a pair of headphones and watched The Royal Tenenbaums.

Halfway through the movie, clarity hit like a lightning strike. Or maybe it was more like a sinking feeling of dread— of being neck deep in quicksand before you realize you should be crawling out.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Because Art was a dream, really. Handsome, and talented, and smarter than you’d expected him to be. And he was so sweet, when he didn’t realize that he should’ve been discouraging your affection. Or maybe he liked it, but only when it was quiet and he didn’t have to acknowledge that what he was doing was wrong.

Maybe it wasn’t wrong and it was all your own fault for wanting someone who made it clear they weren’t emotionally available. Maybe you were pressuring him into something he didn’t want and it was all unfair to him too.

It didn’t matter. It was fucking killing you.

When the movie ended, he stretched and said he’d see you in class. You nodded, smiling the sad smile of a dog unknowingly being left at the pound.

Once the sadness faded, it was replaced with a molten resentment, an anger at him and yourself over your time being wasted. He still sat next to you in class, sneaking peeks of your notes, but you ignored him as best as you could. Days passed, then a week. You started to feel human again.

A couple weekends later, you ignored the text he sent asking for you to join him at a mixer the tennis team was planning on crashing. You ignored the follow up too.

You wound up at a party on the opposite end of campus with a few girls from the service org you were in. You flirted with a new guy, felt like maybe you were worth more than a casual fuck buddy.

So the sight of him sitting at your door when you finally stumbled home was the last thing you wanted to see. All sad, slumped against your door.

He scrambled to stand, expression filled with longing. “Don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded. “I missed you so fucking bad these past few weeks. Felt like I was going crazy.”

Your heart skipped, and hammered against your ribs. You wanted to reach out and kiss that sad, longing expression off his face. You wanted to tell him to leave. It was all very confusing.

“Don’t say that, Art, please,” you said weakly, lips turning down into a frown. You tried to sidestep him, to get the keys into the door, but he pulled you against his chest.

He smelled so nice— like cologne and cinnamon gum. You gave a pathetic sigh at the warmth of him, wrapped all around you. “I missed you,” he repeated. “It’s like a part of me has been missing. I wanted to talk to you so badly, to kiss you, to watch boring movies with you.”

Annoyance and longing bubbled hot in the pit of your stomach, you had to force yourself to push him away. “You just missed having a cheerleader you could fuck whenever you felt like it.”

He frowned. “That’s not true.”

”What’s my major? What’s my favorite place on campus?” He swallowed hard, exhaling sharply through his nose. “What’s my favorite movie?”

“How would I know that?” He asked, resignation flat on his features.

You rolled your eyes. “Because I tell you about it all the time. Because I’ve taken you there. Because I made you watch it. Twice.” You finally got into your room. When you didn’t slam the door, you realized that you were aching for him to follow. You wanted him to be near you, even if you were seething.

When you turned to face him, you hated that even though you were incredibly mad, you still wanted him to just prove you wrong. To convince you that you were being crazy and he was innocent and the only problem was you being a weirdo about your feelings.

God, he was so pretty. And he looked so sad.

“I’ll try to be better,” he said. “I’ll take you on dates, and buy you flowers, and give you what you deserve.”

But you’ll never be his girlfriend. You knew it, deep down. Even as you caved and gave a sweet, sad little nod. He was across the room, holding you against his chest as you felt annoying tears slipping down your cheeks. Tears of relief, of frustration, of resignation.

“I’m not Tashi,” you said when he pressed his lips to the crown of your skull. It was annoying that he had the power to quell all of your uncomfortable emotions with a single romantic gesture. He pulled back and met your gaze, and you softened. “I know she’s always been your first pick, and I don’t blame you, but I’m not ever going to be her, if that’s what you’re waiting on.”

Something passed over his expression, briefly. “I know you’re not.” It was more of a lament than it was an attempt at comfort. “I’m not waiting on anything.”

His lips trailed down, along your jaw, at the corner of your mouth. He pulled back, looking at you expectantly. Are you going to let me?

Your lips parted softly as you kissed him with lips that tasted wet and salty. It was chaste, and sweet. He pulled back and ran his thumb along your cheekbone. “Let me hold you until you fall asleep? Please?”

It was hard to stay mad at Art Donaldson, even when you knew you really should.

Thank you for reading! If you have any requests in the Changeover universe, or otherwise send me an ask :)

[morgana-larkin]

Hiii!! I have a Melissa x reader request because I just lived for the newest episodes. (We shall ignore the firefighter’s existence for the sake of my idea.)

It’s set when Melissa is just focused on hosting the Schemmenti Christmas Eve dinner and reader is just trying to get her to relax like while she’s cooking, she’ll hug her from behind or give her little pep talks. But Melissa’s cooking isn’t the only thing she’s worried about. All this time her family has been asking of when she’s finally gonna tie someone down and Melissa always dismisses them. But this dinner, she hinted at finally finding someone, never disclosing the gender. She hasn’t told her family about r for obvious reasons but Melissa thought it was time r finally met them. Once everyone arrives, Melissa would finally introduce r as her girlfriend. But Melissa panics after one of her family members makes a homophobic comment towards Jacob and says that r is simply a friend who had nowhere to go for Christmas Eve. After having a private talk with Melissa, r understands her situation and is fine with holding off on telling her family. During the dinner, everyone stills hounds Melissa about when she’s gonna find a husband. Seeing r hurt by these comments, Melissa finally tells them that she has found someone and reaches for r. Obviously, everyone’s shocked (aside from Jacob, Caleb, and Barbra) but they all agreed to decide to put their differences aside as they loved Melissa more than their homophobia and due to the fact that she was able to cook good food without having a man. I really can’t think of an ending, but I hope you still consider my request :)

Hi Anon and thank you for the request! I wasn’t going to do Melissa prompts until the new year but this was a Christmas one so why not? I would have had this out a couple days ago but I had 3 Christmas parties to attend (big families). Anyway I am working on my last 2 Chessy prompts and should be out soon! I’m all for ignoring the firefighters existence so I was more than happy to write this. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: Thank you for all the love and support you’ve given me for all my crazy fics! Consider this a late Christmas gift from me or a gift for whatever holiday you celebrate and a have a happy New Year! 🥳

Her Friend Named Y/n

Warnings: Melissa’s family being stronzos, slight homophobia and racism

Words: 3k

“Melissa, relax. You’ve been making this food for the past 2 weeks and they’re gonna love it.” You tell her and then she gets you to taste test something else. “Amazing like always. Everything you get me to taste test is to die for.” You tell her and she smiles and then goes back to cooking.” You go up to her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist. You feel her lean into your touch for a second then she goes back to cooking.

“Y/n, unless you want to get burnt by the stove then I suggest you move your hands.” She says to you and you pull away from her but stay close by.

“Melissa, you need to relax, your family is gonna love it.” You tell her and she glances at you.

“You know my cooking is not the only thing I’m worried about Y/n.” She tells you and you sigh.

“I know but I’ll turn on my charm and I’ll get them to love me before telling them we’re together.” You say and she rolls her eyes.

“What charm?” She teases with a smile.

“The one that I got you with.” You counter quickly and she snorts.

“If I recall, you were clumsy around me, both physically and verbally.” She tells you and you run your fingers through her hair.

“Because how could someone act normal around you? You’re smoking hot and incredibly smart.” You say and she gives you a kiss.

“I really hope they love you, because I do.” She smiles at you before going back to cooking. You then both hear the doorbell ring and then Melissa goes to go get it and you follow after her.

“Jeez, are we early? Why aren’t you dressed yet?” Kriste Marie tells her and you see Melissa’s unimpressed face.

“It’s nice to see you too, sis.” Melissa tells her and then pats her partner’s back. “Dom.” She adds and then closes the door.

You go back into the kitchen with her and you see her continuing to cook.

“Are you going to be ok in here?” You ask her and she nods.

“Ya I’ll be fine, just gotta finish the cooking.” She tells you and then you hear the doorbell ring and Jacob goes to open it.

“Alright, I’ll go introduce myself to everyone.” You tell her and she nods.

“Go charm my family then.” She says and you give her another kiss before going to the living room. From the pictures she showed you, you instantly recognise her brother Seamus and her mom Teresa.

“Hello.” Jacob tells them and then they look around before their eyes land on you and Caleb.

“Who are you two?” Seamus asks.

“I’m Y/n, a friend of Melissa’s.” You say and hold out a hand to shake.

“I’m Caleb, Jacob’s brother, Melissa invited me. Pleasure to meet you both.” He says and then shakes their hands.

“I’m Seamus, Melissa’s youngest brother.” He says and shakes both of your hands.

“I’m Teresa, Melissa’s mother.” She says and doesn’t shake either of your hands. You and Caleb both put your hands down quickly after realizing and then don’t know what to do.

“May I take your coats?” Jacob offers and they give him their coats and then he runs upstairs.

“Well hello honey.” Teresa says and you turn around to see Melissa.

“Hi Ma.” Melissa says and then hugs her. “Y/n, do you mind coming into the kitchen with me please?” She asks you and you nod before following her.

“Melissa what’s wrong?” You ask her once you reach the kitchen.

“That’s my mom out there.” She says and you nod. “If she doesn’t like you then that’s not good for us. You know I love my family but they have cut people off if they don’t like their partner.” She tells you.

“Oh, so if your mom doesn’t like me then we can’t be together.” You say and she looks at you.

“If she doesn’t like you then I don’t know who to choose. Also no one in my family is gay or bisexual, at least that I know of.” She tells you and then she starts stressing out.

“Ok, Melissa, that’s why we agreed that we’ll see what your family thinks about me before we tell them. Totally neutral opinion about me, no bias or anything.” You tell her and she nods.

“I know, I know.” She says and then the doorbell rings and you hear more people coming in. “Can you just stay with me in here for a few minutes and taste test more food?” She asks and you nod with a smile.

10 minutes later and you walk out to see about 10 people here and a couple kids run into the basement.

“There’s a lot of kids in that basement.” Jacob tells you when he sees you walk out.

“Well she already told us that most people have like 3 kids.” You tell him. “Who are all these people, do you know?” You ask him and he looks at everyone.

“That’s Uncle Archie, then that’s Kristen Marie, Dom Marie, Mark, Marie, Matthew. Then Maria Christina, Craig, girl Toni. Boy Tony is still in prison but apparently there’s a card going around for him to sign. Then there’s Larry, Anthony, Seamus. I think about 30 kids in the basement and then of course you’ve already met Mrs Teresa Schemmenti.” He tells you and you widen your eyes a bit at the amount of names he remembers. Everyone looks at you as they were all being introduced to you and you gulp.

“Hi everyone, I’m Y/n, Melissa’s friend.” You tell them all and they all nod then go back to their conversations. Just then Melissa comes out with some more food.

“Honey, you’re trying something different with your makeup? You’re so brave.” Teresa tells her and Melissa sighs.

“Thanks Ma.” Melissa tells her.

“I love visiting you Mel.” Anthony tells her. “Something about being around you really makes me feel better about myself.” He says and Melissa rolls her eyes.

“And that’s why I love having you, Anthony.” Melissa tells him and you smile.

“Marie, did this place get smaller?” Uncle Archie asks Melissa.

“I’m Melissa, and no, my place did not magically shrink.”

“Ah, I guess you just got bigger then.” He says and then laughs.

“Archie, what would she need a bigger place for?” Teresa says. “She lives with a roommate, unmarried and alone.” She adds and Melissa nods her head, knowing the subject will come up.

“Yeah?”

“You’re so insensitive.” Teresa tells him.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Uncle Archie asks and then the doorbell rings. Melissa goes to get in and then you see Barb and Gerald there and Melissa says hi to them. You walk up to them and give them a hug hello. “Ah. Nobody told me this would be one of those progressive parties.” Archie says and you both turn to look at him.

“Do you want to get strangled?” Melissa says and then Jacob cuts in and Archie goes to take a nap upstairs. Jacob then introduces everyone to Barb and Gerald.

“You forgot Nancy and Dorothy.” Archie says from the stairs.

“There’s nobody here named Nancy or Dorothy.” Jacob tells him.

“I was talking about you, Y/n and your boyfriend.” He says and laughs.

“Ok normally I respect my elders but this guy.” Caleb says and you and Melissa hold him back.

“Archie, Y/n is not gay. Just one of Melissa’s friends that had nowhere to go for Christmas Eve.” Teresa says and you look at Melissa. “Melissa, you seem to have forgotten to tell us that you invited a gay man and black people here.” Teresa tells her daughter and Melissa sighs.

“I didn’t think it would matter as it’s my place and they’re my friends.” Melissa tells her mom.

“Y/n, you seem so young and beautiful. Why haven’t you been able to land a man and be with his family for Christmas?” Teresa asks you and Melissa groans. “Melissa, can I not ask your friend a question? Also didn’t you say that you might have found a man?” Teresa asks her.

“I need to talk to Y/n for a moment alone.” Melissa says and then storms into the kitchen. You follow her and then she turns around to look at you. “I think we should hold off on introducing you as my girlfriend.” She tells you and you look at her confused.

“Why? I thought you were excited to finally introduce me to them?” You ask her and holds your hand.

“I am, I was. But I don’t know how they’ll react to me having a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend. You heard my Ma in there. She thinks you should be with a man instead because you’re young and beautiful and didn’t defend Jacob when her brother called him Nancy.” She tells you and you can tell she’s scared.

“Alright, it’s ok Melissa. We can hold off until you’re absolutely ready.” You tell her and she looks at you and smiles.

“Thank you.” She says and gives you a hug.

“Is everything ready? Gerald and a few other people are wondering about that.” Barb says as she enters the kitchen.

“Ah, ya, just a couple more minutes.” Melissa tells her and looks over at the food on the stove.

“Is everything alright?” She says as she senses some tension.

“We’re holding off on introducing me as her girlfriend.” You tell Barb and she looks at you and Melissa.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think my family is gonna respond well to me having a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend.” Melissa tells her and Barb nods. “Alright food is ready. Do you guys mind helping me bring it out?” Melissa asks and you both nod and help her.

All 3 of you bring food out and everyone gathers around the table and takes a seat. They all begin to start putting food on their plates and you take a seat beside Melissa and Barb sits down on the other side of you for support.

“So Melissa, where is this man you were hinting at?” Teresa asks her and Melissa sighs.

“We haven’t been going out long enough to introduce them to my family.” Is all Melissa says to try and close the topic.

“What happened with that Gary?” Kristen Marie asks.

“He proposed and I said no, then we broke up.” Melissa tells her.

“Why’d you say no? You need a man to be with.” Teresa says and you look down at your plate. You then feel Barb grab your hand and you look at her and give her a grateful smile. Melissa sees the interaction between you and Barb and she sighs.

“I just didn’t want to marry him, can that be the end of the discussion?” Melissa tries to shut it down again.

“I’m just saying that you can’t be picky and we all liked him.” Teresa says and Melissa sees that you're hurt by this discussion and it breaks her heart seeing you hurt.

“What if she lied about finding a man?” Kristen Marie says to her mom and Teresa looks at Melissa.

“Did you or did you not find someone?” Teresa asks.

“I did find someone, I’m not lying about that.” Melissa says, annoyed at her family.

“I can’t believe you let Joe go. He was good, he was good for you and he was a firefighter.” Teresa says.

“I almost forgot about Joe.” Seamus says and Melissa puts her head in her hands. “Why did you divorce again?”

“Because we fell out of love.” She simply says. “But we’re still friends.” She adds and they all give her a confused look.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you need a man in your life, and I want to meet the man that you found.” Teresa tells her daughter and Melissa looks at her mom.

“What if it’s not a man?” She suddenly says and you look at her.

“Well what else would it be?” Teresa says and Kristen Marie looks between you and Melissa. She sees the both of you keep looking at each other as well as you being hurt by the conversation.

“What if it’s a woman?” Melissa asks her mom and everyone looks at each other in disbelief before looking at Teresa or Melissa.

“You can’t be with a woman.” Teresa simply says.

“Why not?” Melissa challenges her mom.

“Because you’re not interested in other women, you’ve only been with men and everyone in this family is straight.” Teresa explains. “Now stop saying foolish things honey.” She adds and Melissa sees your eyes are starting to water.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” You tell everyone and stand up.

“Wait Y/n.” Melissa says and stands up as you look at her. “I did find someone, and she’s right here.” She tells everyone and then wraps an arm around your waist. “Y/n is my girlfriend.” She confirms and everyone gasps and looks shocked except for her friends. “We’ve been together for 9 months and we love each other.” She adds and you look at everyone’s reactions.

“You can’t be serious?” Teresa says and you look down and Melissa sees your reaction.

“I think she is serious.” Kristen Marie says. “They’ve been glancing at each other the entire time and Y/n has been looking hurt about this conversation.” Kristen Marie adds.

“Thanks sis.” Melissa says and rolls her eyes. “It’s true, I’m not going to pretend that I’m with a man when it’s hurting my girlfriend just to please my family.” Melissa says proudly and you look at her. She smiles at you and gives you a quick kiss and then looks at her mom. “So all of youse can either accept it or leave.” She adds and you lay your head on her shoulder and wrap your arms around her.

“You know this food is really good.” Seamus says and everyone looks at him.

“I agree, I’m surprised she pulled this off. I guess I didn’t need to defrost the frutti di mare I had at home as a backup dinner for me and Dom.” Kristen Marie says.

“You know if this were a little less brochante.” Teresa starts but Anthony interrupts her.

“Ya, a little mushy.” He says but Teresa continues.

“Yeah, this could have almost passed the nonna Zoltini.” She says and you see Melissa practically beaming at the compliment. “No single woman can make food this good so I guess being with Y/n helped her make good food.” Teresa tells everyone and everyone thinks about it.

“I like Y/n, I met her 2 years ago at Pecsa.” Kristen Marie says and nods. “Melissa wasn’t keeping an eye on her though as I talked with her for a good hour.” She adds and Melissa looks at her sister then at you.

“You did what?” Melissa asks, a little angry.

“We just started being friends, plus I had no idea who she was.” You tell Melissa and you feel her hold tighten on you.

“I think we need an updated photo of me punching you in the face.” Melissa says.

“I’m saying I like your girlfriend.” Kristen Marie says. “I don’t know what she sees in you though.” She adds and you hold Melissa back as she wanted to start some violence with her sister.

“I like your girlfriend as well, a little shy. But I do love you Melissa, and if Y/n makes you happy and gets you to make good food, then I’ll accept the relationship.” Teresa tells her and Melissa smiles and nods at her mom.

“Thank you, I’ll go get the dessert.” She says and brings you into the kitchen with her. “Oh my god, that went really well. Not only did they love my cooking, they’re accepting of us being together.” She says and kisses you. Barb comes into the kitchen and you both pull apart.

“Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to see how you’re both feeling.” Barb says with a smile.

“I’m very happy, my family is accepting my cooking and my girlfriend.” Melissa says with a huge smile.

“I still can’t believe you went right out and said that we’re together.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“All their comments were hurting you, I couldn’t just do nothing.” She says and you plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, I know I picked the right woman to love.” You say and she smiles before she gets the cannoli ready.

“Alright you stronzos, here’s the famous Schemmenti cannoli.” Melissa says as she comes out with the cannolis and everyone takes one.

Everyone eats all the cannolis and then digest for a bit before they start heading off.

“You got yourself a looker.” Kristen Marie tells her sister. “I don’t know how you managed to score that but apparently you did.” She says and Melissa smiles and wraps an arm around you.

“Yep, I got the girl of my dreams.” Melissa says and you smile at her.

“Goodbye.” Kristen Marie says and then leaves.

Melissa closes the door after Barb and Gerald leave and then lets out a breath. She takes a few steps and gives you a long hug and you feel all the tension she’s been holding for 2 weeks just leave her.

“I don’t know about you but I think that was a huge success.” Caleb says and Melissa pulls back and nods.

“One of the best nights ever.” She says while looking at you and you smile. “I think we should turn in a little early, what do you think?” She asks you and you nod while you both go upstairs.

“I know that look and tone. I hope you brought earphones Caleb, cause you’re gonna need them with our thin walls.” Jacob tells his brother and then Caleb looks at you both going up the stairs.

“Yep, neither of us are quiet.” You say and Melissa giggles.

“Come on you goof.” She says and then pulls you to the bedroom.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[dazed-and-confused23]

Would love to see another one shot to Dear Hearts and Gentle People where reader runs into the ghoul when he first has lucy with him and there's flirting and lucy just looks back and forth between them like 'wtf'. Think that would be a funny read because of Lucy's reaction

I hope I did your request justice, anon. Enjoy ❤️

Continuation-> HERE

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 2

Lucy can't believe that this is the same ghoul who had shot up Filly, used her as monster bait, and then kidnapped her. She also couldn't believe that someone could just stand there while she was tied up like an animal and talk to the ghoul like they were best friends.

The three of you had crossed paths, and Cooper had greeted the other woman with a wide, mischievous grin. Lucy had thought she was finally being saved, but then you glanced at her in nothing but curiosity and then focused on the ghoul, the vault dweller already forgotten.

She couldn't understand how two people could be flirting with one another in this situation. You stood close to the ghoul, body language open and friendly, eyes flickering down to Lucy for half a second and then back to Cooper.

“Seems like you've been busy. I hope I'm not being replaced,” you say and Lucy would gag if she could when her captor slid into your space, his free hand curling around the trader's hip, a dry laugh bubbling up past his lips.

“And give up the deal we've got, Darlin'?,” Cooper rumbled and flicked his eyes across your body, arousal pooling in his stomach and making his cock twitch in interest, “I don't think so.”

Lucy watches, wide eyes and mouth open in shock when you huffed in amusement, eyes full of affection for the ghoul that held Lucy hostage. How could you look at him like that?

The vaultie hadn't realized she'd asked that out loud until she had both you and Cooper staring down at her. The ghoul looked a bit miffed, but there was nothing but easy amusement in your gaze. You grin down at the girl, unconcerned with her state.

“We've all got our tastes, girl. Mine just happens to be cowpokes,” you say to her and cast your gaze around. You see a building in the distance that doesn't look like it's about to fall in a stiff breeze and turn your attention back to Cooper.

“Speaking of, I think it's about time I collect that payment, hmm?”

Cooper follows your gaze, and his grin turns feral, his eyes shining in arousal, and he tugs Lucy by the rope around her wrist.

“Well, I think that's a mighty fine plan, Sugar,” Cooper quips and bowed at the waist, eyes tracking your ass as you walked past him.

“Lead the way.”

[hannieehaee]

can you write something about sub joshua.. it’s been on my mind ever since seeing him in the skirt during the follow encore 😭

18+ / mdi

content: sub!joshua, afab reader, smut, mentions of oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1285

a/n: u and me both anon

masterlist

this wasn't a good image for you.

i mean, you were never one to be overtly horny or act up in public, but to be fair, you had not been warned about this beforehand.

no, you had to find out at the same time as every other carat as your boyfriend stepped out on stage in yet another outfit change, except this time his stylist had decided to have him don a skirt – a skirt!

and so you watched from the sidelines. you watched, with thirst in your eyes and a mouth fully agape as your boyfriend danced to his heart's contentment on stage, all while wearing a pretty and flowy skirt that had you salivating at the sight.

his pretty thighs were on display, with every single move of his hips teasing a new inch of skin for everyone to see.

everything was fine at first. you contained your thirst for the boy well enough, knowing that acting up in between sets would be slightly problematic. the real issue arose at the end of the concert, when joshua went to find you backstage, already changed into a pair of jeans and completely nonchalant, acting as if he hadnt just been provoking you on stage.

that's when you did something you'd later be embarrassed about.

grabbing onto his hand, you dragged him back to the dressing room. fortunately for you, the dressing room was now empty, only containing the apparel the staff would have to put on the boys the following day.

locking the door, you pushed him up against it, attacking him with a deep kiss.

joshua, being just a man, reciprocated the kiss with no question, too exhausted to try and take control and simply appreciating the pretty girl loving on him.

the kiss grew nastier by the second, with you licking and sucking at his tongue all while pulling at his hair. the kiss was followed by a trail of even more kisses, leading down his neck and to his ears.

"joshie?" you breathed against his ear.

"yeah?", he gasped out, hands digging into your hips as a silent way of pleading at you to not stop.

"put on the skirt for me?"

"w-what? the skirt?", the request woke him up a bit, not understanding the sudden nature of it.

"need to see you in the skirt, joshie. looked so fucking pretty ... so fucking good for me, joshie," you went back to licking into his mouth, hands restless as they undressed him.

"you liked it? i-"

"i loved it, baby. you looked so pretty. need to ride you with it on, fuck ...", you shuddered at the thought, "wanna see it up close, baby. be a good boy and put it on for me?", you gave him eyes you knew he couldn't resist, now withholding your kisses from him as he pathetically tried to chase your lips.

"ride me? here? fuck, okay. i'll put it on. c'mon."

it only took a few minutes for joshua to find it among the pile of clothes hanging on the rack, having frantically searched for it while you sat back on the couch and slowly undressed yourself, giving him a taste of what he'd get if he followed direction.

finally finding it, joshua took off his current clothes at the speed of light, even tripping during the process. the thought of your obvious thirst for him in a pretty skirt had him feeling lightheaded. and the idea of you riding him here, while anyone could walk in, made him reel.

"oh, joshie ... so fucking pretty, shit ... c'm'ere, pretty," you gestured for him to come to you, immediately switching positions with him and sitting him down as you straddled him.

your lips went to his own just as he sat down, hands feeling him up all over. shirtless and with only a frilly little skirt on, you felt him up in a way that could only de described as disrespectful.

but he loved it, moving his body as close to where your hands were touching to feel more and more of your touch. he moaned pathetically throughout, whining extra loudly when you began grinding your bare cunt against his cock through the thin fabric of the skirt.

pulling up the skirt a bit, you pulled out his dick from underneath, caressing the tip with your thumb to make him cry out a little more.

he still had his cute little face stickers on his face, with his brown hair contrasting the skirt perfectly and making him look like the prettiest little thing you'd ever seen. he was making you lose your mind. sadly, you were in public, so the most you could do to him was ride him, not having the chance to do all you wanted to him.

in an ideal world, you wouldve been able to get on your knees and worship him, kissing up every inch of pretty skin of his thighs as you made your way up to his weeping cock. then, you would've slowly licked up every vein and spent a good while licking and sucking at his tip, up until he cried for more. only when he was crying at you to please give him more would you have engulfed his entire member in your mouth, making him cum all over his pretty skirt.

you voiced all these desires into his ear as you finally lowered yourself down on him, making him groan louder at every single detail of your fantasy. with a cry, he promised to bring the skirt home with him if it meant you'd make good on your promise.

in the meantime, you bounced on him like a crazed woman, groaning any time your eyes opened enough to see the pretty prince under you. he was the prettiest you'd ever seen him, so delicate and needy, completely unlike the confident and cocky boy you saw on stage.

"so pretty, joshie ... you're the cutest thing i've ever seen," you moaned, softly tweaking at his nipples.

crying out at the stimulation, joshua cursed out, letting out nonsensical babbles as he threw his head back against the couch, back arching and hands tightening around your hips.

"baby, i'm gonna- gonna fucking cum, please!," he begged for nothing in particular.

he didn't need to beg, you were going to give him whatever he wanted no matter what.

"cum for me, okay, baby? wanna feel you cum in me. fuck ... fill me up, pretty ..." you cried, doing everything in your power to speed up your orgasm so that you could cum with your pretty boyfriend. your hand went down to your cunt, circling your clit in desperation as you tightened even more around joshua.

at some point he must've gotten desperate, humping his hips upwards as his orgasm blinded him from all senses. his noises got so loud you had to hold your hand up to his mouth, muffling him as he screamed behind it.

biting your lip, you attempted to quiet yourself down too, finding your own high at the way in which joshua cried under you. the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes had you losing your mind, making you simultaneously coo and moan at the sight.

when you finally rode out your high, even continuing to ride your boyfriend after his own orgasm had ended, you finally let yourself fall against him, heavy breath as you felt his warm skin.

"will you really steal the skirt for me?", were your first works against his chest.

"will you fuck me like this again?", he managed to let out through his lack of breath.

"is that even a question?"

"then hell yeah," he chuckled breathlessly, clammy hands still on your hips.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread but i had to get this out of my mind my bad</3

[churipu]

Hello lovely 😊 I hope you're feeling well.

I was wondering if I can request reader sparring with the jjk men (especially with Itadori + any others). As they are sparring they goof off and play fight and the jjk men find out reader is ticklish (or vice versa!)

JJK MEN + TICKLISH PARTNER

featuring. itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, geto suguru x reader

warning. cursing :>

note. anon my love, i'm so sorry this took so long </3 and yes hunny i'm feeling absolutely amazing, i hope you are too. as a ticklish person, yes. this request, yes. i hope you like it, mwah mwah <33

ITADORI YUUJI. sparring in between you both was a routine, both yuuji and you would spend at least two hours amongst twenty four to spar against each other.

"i learnt a new move, wanna see it?" yuuji offers, wiping a bead of sweat from the side of his face. he was breathing heavily in exhaustion but the adorement in his eyes was there as he looks at you.

"so i'm the punching bag?" he nods his head happily, you chuckled shaking your head at his look but nodded nonetheless, "you're so lucky that you're cute."

yuuji was no longer a stranger to the word 'cute' coming from you, he likes it. and he's proud of it, "i know," he laughs, approaching you. you just stood there and waited for what he was about to do.

the male latches his fingers on both side of your waist, squeezing them lightly — you pulled yourself away from his grip at the tingle you felt, narrowing your eyes at him, "is this going to be something that involves tickling?"

yuuji was such a lost cause. he shook his head, until it hits him. you were ticklish. the corner of his lips twitched up and the next second he was on top of you, "forget about the new move, i have a better move — tickle attack!"

god, your worst nightmare. his fingers slithering your waist, curling lightly on your clothed skin as you can't help but to squirm and let out a string of laughter, pleading for him to stop.

just hope he doesn't use it on you the next time you spar (he totally will).

GOJO SATORU. the first time he found out you were ticklish was when he accidentally brushes your nape during a spar session, and you swung your fist at his face at the sudden tingle.

"oh, shit. are you okay? i didn't mean to do that, toru."

he didn't even care that you just punched him across his jaw, he held his jaw but blinked his doe blue eyes at you, "no, no, it's fine. are y'ticklish?"

when you flinched and pursed your lips into a line, it confirmed his question — and the male has never been so happy to know an information about you. but do be aware he will be using it against you at times, which is obviously just so unfair.

"toru! stop," you giggled, kicking your legs as he tickled your sides, "i said i didn't do it, you idiot!"

gojo hums softly, his fingers still brushing over your skin vividly, giving your sensitive skin the slightest touch of his fingers, "huh, then who was it? who ate my kikufuku, hm?"

"i don't know!" you breathe heavily, stomach hurting from laughing.

"i know it's you, baby!" he began another round of tickling, practically manhandling you at this point — he has a large grin etched onto his face as his fingers dived under your shirt, brushing your sides, "come on, i won't stop until you admit it."

you laugh, pushing his hands away, "fine, 't was me! it looked great so i had a little taste."

he had a satisfied smile on his face, placing a short kiss on your lips, "wasn't so hard, right? and a little taste?"

"shut up! i ate all six of it." he loves to tickle you randomly, so do be aware of it.

GETO SUGURU. unlike gojo or yuuji, geto wouldn't take advantage of you being ticklish. he accidentally finds out while he was visibly losing in a friendly spar, so he grabbed your waist with one hand and was about to push you off of him — until he heard soft laughs escaping your lips.

he momentarily stopped moving and gave your side a light squeeze, and more laughter escaped your lips. he's so in love all he could do was lay there on the ground, smiling at you affectionately like your voice was all that mattered to him at that moment.

"'t tickles sugu." you breathe out, rolling off of his body.

"i didn't know you're pretty ticklish."

"'ts because i don't want anyone to know," you rolled your eyes, reaching a hand out for him to take. which he did, nodding in acknowledgement.

his favorite thing to do is to brush his fingers on your nape, not to make fun of you. he just does it to hear you let out a little laugh or two, your voice was so alluring that he just has to hear it.

he does it while you both are walking together, watching a movie, sparring, studying, eating, any time he gets to do it; geto would. just to hear you laugh.

"sugu, it tickles."

"sorry, baby. i like to hear you laugh," he mumbles out, nuzzling his nose to your cheek before placing a kiss.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[pickingupmymercedes]

Bed Chem - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Bed Chem - Sabrina Carpenter - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smut

wordcount: +3k (got carried aways, ops)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

My mind’s been trying to talk me out of this for days.

It’s just another Thursday night. Nothing special about it except the fact that, yet again, I’ve found myself driving to Lewis’s place, the city lights blurring into streaks as I try to remember why I agreed to this.

Because it’s supposed to be a one-time thing.

Hell, it was supposed to be over after that first night. But here I am, again.

A weekly occurrence. I can���t even remember how it happened—how the "no strings attached" turned into this. This pull.

He texted me this morning, just like he does every week. A simple, “Pasta night at mine?” Like it’s a casual thing.

Like we didn’t have our clothes half off before the water even started boiling last time.

God, I’m such a fool.

I pull into his driveway, trying to convince myself to turn around, go home, and pretend I have some semblance of self-control.

But the second I see the soft glow of lights through his window, the thought evaporates. And I can almost feel his hands on me already.

The door swings open before I even knock, and there he is—Lewis, wearing that same damn smile that has me fighting against myself every time.

“You made it,” he says, like he ever doubted I would.

“Yeah, well, here I am.” I give him a look, my last-ditch attempt to act like I’ve got this under control.

He steps aside to let me in, the smell of tomatoes wafting through the air. He’s actually cooking tonight; I notice with a smirk. It’s endearing, really.

“You’re actually serious about the pasta?” I tease, shrugging out of my jacket.

His eyes flick down to my outfit—something casual, but I know he’s still taking it in, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

That’s how it starts. Always.

He smiles, raising an eyebrow. “I can multitask, you know.”

God, his voice. Smooth, effortless. Every word has this undercurrent to it, like he’s saying something else entirely.

And I know exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing.

“We’ll see,” I reply, folding my arms over my chest, trying to act like I’m here for the food and not ... you know. “Where’s the wine?”

He chuckles, already moving towards the kitchen. I follow, keeping my distance, because proximity is dangerous with him.

Every time we’re close, my mind scrambles. I forget how to be rational, how to keep this detached and casual.

He hands me a glass, his fingers brushing mine for a second too long. I try not to react, but the heat between us is instant. Of course, it is.

I take a sip, trying to ground myself in the taste, trying to ignore how he’s leaning against the counter, looking at me like he’s already undressing me in his mind.

“So, how was your week?” he asks, voice casual, but there’s that hint of something—like he knows where this is headed.

“It was fine,” I say, shrugging, though the tension in the air says otherwise.

We make small talk while he finishes the pasta, but it’s like the words don’t even matter. There’s a rhythm between us, in the stupid attempt at making this a real date.

But it’s useless.

He plates the pasta, setting the dishes on the counter, and I can feel him beside me. Too close. Far too close.

“Hungry?” he asks, his voice low, too damn tempting.

“For food? Not really,” I blurt out before I can stop myself, my eyes darting to his lips for a split second.

I curse myself internally because I’ve lost the game. He saw it.

His smile widens, that knowing smirk creeping onto his face, and I know I’ve given him all the signal he needs.

He steps closer, and I’m trapped between him and the counter. My logical side is screaming at me to back off, but my body… well I’m already leaning into him, craving his touch.

“You know” he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm against my ear, “we could skip the pasta” His hand brushes my hip, and it’s all I can do to keep breathing.

I bite my lip, trying to play it cool, trying not to let him see how much I want this. Want him. “Skipping dinner, again? We’re really getting lazy, aren’t we?”

“Who needs pasta when we’ve got... other plans?” His hands slide up my waist, fingers tracing the outline of my shirt, and my resolve is already out the window.

Damn him.

I grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into me, our lips crashing together with the kind of urgency that says we’ve been holding back for too long. Except we did exactly that, a week ago.

His hands are everywhere—my waist, my back, pulling me closer, like he can’t get enough.

I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly we’re stumbling towards the living room, the sofa the inevitable destination.

It’s a blur of hands, lips, clothes hitting the floor in a mess of fabric and desire.

My mind is still protesting somewhere in the background, telling me this is a bad idea, that I’m setting myself up for failure.

But every time his hands skim across my skin, the voice gets quieter and quieter until all I can focus on is him. The way he knows exactly where to touch, how to pull me into him, how to make me forget anything else exists.

We collapse onto the sofa, him pinning me beneath him, and I gasp as his mouth finds the sensitive spot on my neck. It’s always like this with him—fast, intense, like we can’t get enough of each other.

There’s a chemistry here that neither of us can deny.

His hands slide under my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, and I arch into him, letting out a soft moan as his lips move lower, tracing the curve of my collarbone. My logical side is completely gone now, replaced by a hunger that only he can satisfy.

His fingers fumble with my bra, and I can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and amused “You’d think you’d be better at that.”

He grins against my skin, finally unclasping it. “Practice makes perfect.”

The bra hits the floor, and his hands are on me again, his touch firm but gentle, like he knows exactly what I need. And he does. He always does.

I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, and he obliges, pulling it off in one swift motion. My hands roam his chest, tracing the lines of muscle, the tattoos that decorate his skin.

He’s beautiful, and for a moment, I allow myself to just... appreciate it.

But then his mouth is on mine again, and any coherent thought I had is gone. All that’s left is the feel of him, the way he presses into me, the heat between us building until it’s almost unbearable.

He pulls back for a second, his forehead resting against mine as we catch our breath. “You good?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Because if I do, I’ll say something I can’t take back. Something like, “I’m falling for you,” or “This isn’t just casual anymore,” or any number of other things I’ve been trying to deny since this whole thing started.

Instead, I pull him back to me, kissing him hard, my hands in his neck, pulling him down on top of me.

And I know I swore I’d keep it light, casual, like I didn’t feel this magnetic pull every time I was near him. But the second I see him, smell him, feel the warmth of his body against mine, every boundary I have shatters.

It’s maddening, really, how easily he unravels me.

I try to keep it together, to play it off like I’m here for the pasta, the wine, the company, like I’m not craving him with every fiber of my being.

But who am I kidding? I was gone the moment I step through his door.

The thought that this is supposed to be a “no strings attached” situation seems laughable. We’re fooling ourselves. This is anything but simple.

“Tell me to stop” he murmurs, his voice rough against my ear, but we both know I won’t. I can’t.

My body responds before my mind can catch up, my hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more of him. I press my hips against his, my breath catching as I feel how much he wants this, wants me.

“I can’t” I whisper, and it’s not just about the sex. It’s everything—the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, the way he makes me feel like I’m the only thing that matters in this moment.

Kind the problem, isn’t it? I know deep down this can’t stay casual, no matter how much we pretend. Each time I come back to him, each time we fall into this rhythm, it gets harder to keep my distance.

Harder to keep my heart out of it.

But I don’t say any of that. I just kiss him again, my lips moving against his with a desperation I can’t hide. Because I don’t want to think about what this all means. I just want to feel.

His hands find the small of my back, pulling me flush against him, and I let out a soft gasp, the sound slipping from my throat before I can stop it. God, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

“Still thinking about the pasta?” he teases although I can tell he’s trying to bring me out of my own head, and I can’t help but laugh, the sound low and breathless.

“Screw the pasta,” I whisper, my hands tangling in neck, pulling him closer, deeper, until there’s nothing left between us but skin and heat and the overwhelming need to be as close as possible.

Because with him, there’s no room for logic. No room for second thoughts or regrets. There’s only this—the way his body feels against mine, the way his hands know exactly where to touch, the way we fit together like we were made for each other.

And then his hands move lower, firm but careful as they grip my hips. He pauses for a moment, his gaze dark and unreadable as he looks me over, then—swiftly—he buckles my hips upwards, hands sliding to hook into the waistband of my sweats.

I lift my hips, barely giving him any resistance, and in one smooth motion, he pulls the soft fabric down, taking my panties with them. His breath catches for a split second when he sees the matching set.

"Knew there was something under those sweats," he teases, a smug grin forming on his lips as he tosses the fabric to the floor.

His fingers trace the edge of my thighs, skimming over the sensitive skin, the warmth of his touch unraveling me.

"Shut up," I mutter, trying to keep my voice steady, but the way his hands move it does something to my resolve. He knows it.

"I will" he says, his voice lowering with an edge of promise.

And the bastard keeps his word as his fingers slip between my folds, not muttering a word as his eyes never leave mine. My breath hitches in response, and his grin widens, knowing exactly what he's doing to me.

His thumb grazes my clit in one teasing stroke, and my back arches involuntarily, the sound of my breathy gasp filling the space between us. I bite down on my lip, trying to stifle any sound, but when his mouth joins his fingers, blowing a soft breath over my swollen bud, all hope of control is lost.

"Oh... God."

It’s all I can manage as his mouth works me over. He knows exactly what he’s doing, alternating between gentle kisses and deep sucks that make my head spin.

My legs tremble, and I grab the cushion beneath me, trying to ground myself as my body responds to every precise move he makes.

His tongue flicks against me, skillful, intentional, and when he adds just enough pressure with his fingers, sliding two finger inside me with ease, my mind goes blank.

Every coherent thought evaporates, replaced by the building pressure, the pure pleasure that courses through me with each flick, each movement, each stroke.

My breath quickens, my thighs tense around his head, and I can’t help but let out a moan, the sound embarrassingly thick with need.

“Lewis...” I manage, barely, as his mouth and fingers push me to the edge, that overwhelming sense of release hovering just out of reach.

He hums in response, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through me that has me arching into him, desperate for more.

And then his fingers curl just right inside me and I’m done.

My body shudders, thighs clamping around him as the orgasm rips through me, every muscle tightening and releasing in waves. The sensation is overwhelming, like I’m seeing white, and all I can do is gasp for breath as he carries me through it, his mouth never stopping, not until I’m trembling in his arms.

When I can finally hear my surroundings, I collapse back into the sofa, chest heaving, limbs heavy. He pulls away slowly, his lips grazing the inside of my thigh as if to say, ‘I’m not done with you yet’ but for now, he gives me a moment to catch my breath.

His hands trail lazily up my body, stopping just below my ribs as he looks up at me, that damn smirk still playing on his lips.

“Menace” I say again, breathless, trying to regain some sense of control.

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss me, and I taste myself on his lips—soft, tender, and entirely too addicting.

"You seemed pretty pleased it with just seconds ago" he murmurs against my mouth, and even though I’m still recovering, I can’t help but smile.

Lewis pulls away, his weight shifting off me as he rises from the sofa. I can already see the glint in his eye, that familiar focus taking over as he fishes out a stack of condoms from the nearest drawer in the living room.

He’s quick, flipping it open and grabbing the condom like it’s second nature. And considering his stash he probably is.

Before he can tear it open, I sit up, my body still tingling. I reach out, taking the foil packet from his hand with a smirk and a teasing wink.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the sudden boldness. "You sure about this?" he asks, though his voice betrays the concern that’s written all over his face.

I don’t bother answering. I slide down from the sofa just enough to grab the waistband of his shorts, my fingers hooking underneath and tugging them down along with his briefs.

His member springs free, not fully hard yet, but close. I meet his eyes and smirk, noticing how quickly his breathing has picked up.

"Someone seems eager," I tease, running my fingers lightly along his length, watching as he grows harder beneath my touch. His body responds instantly, his breath catching as I give him a few slow pumps, feeling him swell fully in my hand.

His head tilts back slightly, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he lets out a low groan and I can tell he’s barely holding it together.

I tear the condom wrapper with my teeth, slowly rolling it down over him, my fingers moving with deliberate care. Once I’ve got him fully sheathed, I rise back up, straddling him on the sofa, my lips finding his in a deep kiss.

It’s heated, urgent, but I take my time, letting the tension build even more between us.

In the midst of our kiss, he pulls back just slightly, his voice low and rough, barely more than a whisper. "I mean it, tell me to stop" he says again, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

I shush him softly, pressing a finger to his lips, then replacing it with my mouth, kissing him again.

My hand slides down between us, wrapping around his length again, and I can feel how tense he is, how much he’s holding back.

"Shut up" I murmur, smiling against his lips, pushing him gently back so that his back rests against the couch. He leans back, his hands gripping my hips as I position myself over him.

I take my time, teasing him with the moment before I finally lower myself onto him.

 Slowly, so slowly, I ease down, feeling him stretch and fill me inch by inch until he’s buried completely inside me. We both let out a sharp gasp, the feeling overwhelming for a second, his grip on my hips tightening as I settle onto him.

I stay still for a moment, our eyes locked, the tension between us thick and electrifying. My hands rest on his chest, fingers splayed over the hard muscles, feeling his heartbeat under my palms. For a second, we’re completely in sync, breathing as one.

"God..." he breathes, his eyes dark with need as he looks up at me, his hands sliding up my sides, possessive and steady.

I smile, shifting just slightly, already feeling the pressure build again between us."I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” I tease, rolling my hips slowly to drive him even crazier.

His eyes darken further, his hands gripping me tighter as I start to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that has both of us teetering on the edge from the start.

There’s something primal in the way we fit together, and as I pick up the pace, our bodies collide in a seamless rhythm, like we’ve done this a hundred times before—because we have.

Lewis’s grip tightens on my hips as I move, his eyes never leaving mine. He starts to guide me, lifting his hips in time with my rhythm, his hands firm but steady, helping me set the pace.

I bite my lip, fighting to stay in control of my breathing as the sensation builds. It’s so intense, the way we move together—every thrust, every roll of my hips sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

But then, just as I find my rhythm, he takes over.

His hands tighten around my waist, pulling me down harder as he starts thrusting up into me with slow, deliberate movements. Each upward motion hits deeper, sending sparks of pleasure through me that make it impossible to hold back the soft moans escaping my lips.

I let him have his moment, feeling the way he takes control, the raw power behind each thrust.

But I narrow my eyes at him, already planning my next move. I let him keep the reins, let him revel in his control as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. His pace is maddening—just slow enough to tease, to keep me wanting more.

And he knows it.

But I can feel it when he starts to slow down, the strain in his muscles telling me he’s getting close. That’s when I take over again.

With a wicked grin, I shift my weight, changing the angle as I start to move again, but this time adding a slow, rocking motion as I go up and down on him. And he tenses beneath me, his breath catching as his hands move from my waist to my thighs, trying to slow me down.

"Babe..." he gasps, his voice strained, but I just chuckle softly, my pace quickening, refusing to give him any relief.

“What’s wrong?” I quip, my tone playful but laced with challenge. I can feel the tremor in his muscles, the way his body is straining to hold on, but I don’t let up, riding him faster now, the intensity building until it’s almost unbearable.

"Love... Y/n..." His words come out broken, barely a breath as his head falls back against the sofa, his hands tightening on my thighs as if that’ll slow me down.

But it doesn’t. I lean into him, pressing my chest against his, feeling the way his body shudders beneath mine.

And then he’s coming undone.

I feel it—the way his body jerks, the tension snapping as he lets out a guttural groan, his hands desperately gripping me as I continue to rock against him.

His eyes squeeze shut, and he tries to tell me to slow down, but the words never fully form. He’s lost, completely undone beneath me, and I savor every second of it.

I don’t stop until he hisses, his hands shooting up to still my hips, his breathing ragged and uneven. "Fuck..." he mutters, his voice hoarse, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at me, still catching his breath.

I smirk, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, savoring the way his body still trembles. His hands loosen their grip on my hips, and I feel him exhale deeply, the tension draining from him.

“It’s always so much better than in my head” he says, his voice low and raw, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes my heart skip a beat.

I bite back a laugh, pulling away just enough to look down at him, my fingers brushing at his beard.

Better, huh?

But there’s something more to it, something neither of us is ready to admit, not out loud anyway.

And for now, we don’t have to.

For now, we can pretend this is just about that type of chemistry.

______________________________________________________________

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! How do you think potential meet cutes with Jason would go? Do you think he’d be instantly smitten? He strikes me as the type to get a crush on you since the first meeting but maybe I’m just delusional 🥰

My honest opinion but I don’t think Jason likes smut books. He doesn’t mind a little bit of smut but would much prefer if it was nonexistent or didn’t take up a ridiculous amount of pages/chapters in the book in general.

I’m also a delusional twat anon who believes Jason would feel something upon first meetings, but firstly I have to heavily disclose that most of your run ins with one another would be in a book store/cafe, at least more so then anywhere else. (Book reader Jason supremacy!)

So to say that your interest was peaked upon first spotted a six foot something, beast of a man standing in front of the romance section, holding two different books -which were both written by the Jane Austen- in each hand was an understatement.

Normally you wouldn’t expect a man like Jason in the romance section of a small, quite but quaint bookstore/cafe, withholding an internal conflict over some books in his head as though his life depended on it. However the fact still stands that you deeply appreciate a man with good taste in his personal readings, and wasn’t afraid to indulge in the romance genre.

It probably also didn’t help that he was a conventionally attractive man with short dark hair with a tuft of white embedded in his fringe and wearing a simple read hoodie and jeans, a simple attire that anyone could wear, but on him he made it seem as though it were a main staple of his wardrobe.

Jason, knowing when he’s being watched, as quick to look over his shoulder but what he wasn’t expecting was to see someone as cute and stunning as you standing there. He’s a little tongue tied but that was mainly from surprise, and for all of Jason’s hard attempts of trying to act natural, it only made for a spectacle that you couldn’t help but view as endearing and kinda cute.

‘You alright there?’ You’d ask with a smile.

‘Yeah. I’m good, fine even.’ Jason replied, internally cursing himself for being caught off guard because he was too involved in debating which book to take home to read.

‘So…You like Jane Austen?’ You asked, trying to make room for a conversation to occur between the two of you.

‘Wha-‘ Jason looks down at the books in either of his hands and chuckles. ‘Yeah, she’s one of my favourite alongside the likes of Mary Shelley and Louisa May Alcott.’ He answers and he could tell that he had gotten your approval with the little hum of acknowledgment.

‘Do you come here often?’ You then said before adding with an awkward laugh of your own, ‘I mean I come here quite frequently as it’s the only bookstore in town that has proper books that aren’t smut books, and i have never seen you before until well…today.’ Jason smiles, finding himself growing to like you with every passing moment as he felt himself grow relaxed within your presence, especially now that he had long deducted that you weren’t a real threat.

‘I’m with you on that pretence, it’s seems that nowadays all the bookshelves in most stores are prominently smut books of lacklustre quality and story structure.’ Jason agreed, noting being a fan of those types of books himself, Jason had found it becoming increasingly difficult to find decent books that weren’t smut, badly written girl boss self inserts, or just poorly written in general. So when he stumbled across this little book store on his way home and took a chance by entering the store, only to find himself spending way longer than he had initially thought.

And that was just in the romance section alone. That’s how Jason knew this bookstore was unlike all the rest in Gotham.

‘But as to answer your question, I come here on the off chance when I’m looking for a new book to read, seeing as I have read and re-read the books in my personal possession multiple times over.’ Jason admitted and feeling a little bashful but reading had proven to be a form of escapism for him- especially after everything he has been through recently- he felt as though this escape from reality was severely overdue.

‘You’ve got your own collection of books? Am I allowed to assume that they’re mainly Jane Austen’s body of work or?’ You trailed off, feeling yourself growing more confident with talking to Jason as though it was as easy as breathing. Finally you had someone to indulge in this sort of conversation with without it feeling forced and fall to the wayside, leaving you both to soak in the awkward and stifling aftermath.

Jason smiled genuinely as he bowed his head and raised his hands. ‘You got me down to a science…’ he trailed off once realising that he didn’t know your name and cursed himself for his lack of even the basic of etiquette.

‘Y/n.’ You told him with a smile.

‘Y/n.’ He tested out your name, letting it linger for a little bit and quickly came to the conclusion that he liked it. He liked it a lot. And you liked it also, especially when he was the one saying it the way he did just now.

‘Well it’s nice to meet you y/n. My names Jason.’ Jason then said and he knew that he’d come to like the way you said his name as though it were a mythical word;

‘Jason.’ You uttered, saying every word with care and respect that it left a weird feeling within Jason’s chest that only seems to grow and spread throughout his body the more you talked.

You two would talk for literal hours about your favourite book genres, characters and so on to the point that the owner of the bookstore would have to remove you both from the premises himself. He’d then proceed to go on about how you both were just taking the piss at this point and muttering about having to stay an while longer to properly close up shop, count the cash float, and so on before then making the journey home.

He honestly didn’t care about the books in Jason’s hand, just lets him have them for free on the pretence that both he and you get the fuck out before shutting and locking the door behind you both.

‘Well…’ Jason trailed off, tucking the books under his arm. ‘Will I see you again? Preferably here?’ He asks and you smiled sheepishly.

‘Depends, will you?’ You countered and Jason could feel the smile on his lips grow at it’s own accord. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely coming back if I get free books for every time I stay until closing hours.’ He jokes and you lightly smack his bicep, keeping your hand there for an unreasonably long time but it’s not like either you or Jason cared in that moment.

‘Then I guess I’m obligated to come back here to help you piss off the bookstore owner.’ You replied with a smile of your own as you both kept looking into the other’s eyes. You both knew something had blossomed here today at this run down bookstore, and you both hoped that it could continue like that for a long while, but neither of you were willing to admit your embarrassingly rapidly growing attraction to one another. That could wait for another time.

‘Great.’ Jason said.

‘Great.’ You echoed. ‘See you soon I guess.’

‘Soon can’t come fast enough.’ Jason replied ask you both went your separate ways with eager anticipation of your next interaction.

[yyuangss-main]

❝EUROPEAN NONSENSE — SPIDERVERSE HCS

summary ; hobie with a hispanic girlfriend who loves to cook and makes her food spicy or very seasoned when he doesn’t use seasoning as much.

pairing ; hobie brown x hispanic fem!reader (no specific race stated)

note ; i sometimes forget hobie is british but writing this concept was so much fun to do lmao 😭 thank you anon for this request <3 i just hope our boy really doesn’t just season his stuff with salt only because of that.

• — hobie brown !

had a cough attack. this was deadass him the first time he tried your cooking.

now, the only reason you made food for him was because you caught what he was eating the day before. it was the most driest, whitest, piece of chicken you’d ever seen. it was so bad, you could hear pavitr crying his heart out all the way from a different dimension about “european nonsense”.

you remember just staring at the chicken on the plate. no seasoning, only salt. the worst part is, he had just drained it from the pot and you could see the steam coming off it. sits down with his knife and fork. you were just staring in disbelief and you asked him while pointing at his so called dinner, “hobie what is this?”

he looks at you and said, “what? have you never seen chicken before?” you don’t know what that thing was but it definitely was not chicken.

tells you that it’s good and you should try it. GOOD? you nearly lost your mind right then and there when he stabbed it with his fork and just bit into it. you’re convinced he’s a psychopath because even you wouldn’t stoop this low.

no way we’re you gonna have your boyfriend eat this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner 🙅🏻‍♂️ not when you know you can cook up the best meal he’d ever have in his entire life. you let him eat that dry chicken though because he needed to suffer for saying it was good.

you had told him to come over for dinner and he’s like “finally i’m gonna get to try your cooking” since you always told him how much you love cooking. actually, hobie starts coughing the minute you open the door for him to come in. hobie had taken a deep breath and was gonna say how nice it smelled before el chile hit him unexpectedly.

never smelled this amount of spice before. you had to open the windows to air the apartment out. you’re use to the smell so it’s not like it bothers you. he’s waiting out in the living room, still coughing and now you know he’s probably doing it on purpose.

you wait until the smell has calm down before you tell him the food is ready. pretends he died from hunger because you took too long. you’re surprised he didn’t choke on the dry chicken.

you decided to make him some empanadas de carne molida y de pollo which, unknown to him, was drenched in salsa roja and seasoned to your liking. you’d had the toppings prepared too. red onions, cilantro, lime, tomatoes, and several other things so he could taste it.

“by the way, i made sure not to make it spicy.” you told him that as you both sat down and he trusted you. which he wished he didn’t. you had two empanadas on his plate, one of each and pointed out which one was which and he went to try the chicken one.

first bite he was fine until the spice kicked in and he just looked at you and started having another cough attack like, “🤨 you’re sure this isn’t spicy?” you had to get him some water and he had to wait a little bit before eating again.

you told him to try it with the salsa you’d made. you did a red one and a green one. and according to you, the green one was the one that wasn’t spicy. naturally, he went for la salsa verde only to be met with a burning sensation far worse from the empanadas.

you had to apologize so many times to him but he told you that it was fine especially since you’re just used to the taste and smell. and it’s not like you did it on purpose. “🤨 or did you?”

after his experience, he doesn’t trust you when you say it’s “not even that spicy”.

but trust me, once he’s hooked, he’s hooked. never sees any kind of food the same. and it’s so hard to make him stop coming over whenever it’s dinnertime.

hobie just knows and he’s crawling through your window in his spider suit asking what you made for the two of you to eat. even has tomatillos and chiles verdes in a small plastic bag so you can make a salsa. meanwhile you’re just standing in the kitchen, knowing you only made enough for yourself.

you ended up having to teach him how to season his food. he prefers yours ten times more though so yes, he still shows up for dinner.

[ranhaitanisgf]

heyy congrats on 2k! can i request delinquent & class president + stuck together with baji? thanks and congrats again

—baji keisuke // delinquent & student council president // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ i went. soooo . overboard . this was too good though once i got going i couldn't stoppp omg. all this is lowk inspired by that one scene from the webtoon a reason to die, so iykyk :3 thank you for requesting anon, and i hope youre still around 2 years later to read this! enjoyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ warning! small references from the 'a letter from baji keisuke' prequel series!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

the breeze of the early evening wind was doing wonders for you at the moment; it was nice to take a moment for yourself amongst all your responsibilities and just relax. 

it was even nicer that you were able to enjoy a cold beverage after completing all your student council duties; the vending machine on the rooftop was a great investment, (you’d been against it when someone pitched the idea, but you’re so glad you approved it). all of this paired with your favorite music playing through your earbuds from your iPod? 

yeah, this was a perfect moment. 

you perked up a bit when you heard the door to the rooftop open, looking to see who was there. 

“hm? oh, baji-kun!” the boy looked over to you at the call of his name, the corners of his lips turning up when he recognized you. “what’re you still doing here? i thought you would be home already.” you asked, pulling an earbud out of your ear. 

“chifuyu and ryusei were helping me with some stuff after school and we just finished up. how ‘bout you? it’s getting pretty late.” you sighed at his query, the stress coming back to you just thinking about all the things you have left to do. 

“there was a lot of club budgeting to finish because a lot of the clubs are requesting more budget. all the presidents are getting mad at me for choosing another club over them, but it’s like, maybe if you were more productive with your club, i would allot more budget, y’know? gah, just thinking about it gives me a headache…i haven’t even finished the revised budgeting for half of them…” you shook your head, sighing at the predicament. when you looked back up, you saw baji adjusting his glasses awkwardly, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“sorry about that, baji-kun. i just came up here for a small break from it and ended up complaining about it to you.”

“nah, it’s fine. ‘m kinda like that with studying too.” 

“oh, right! how has the studying been going for you-? wait, hm…” noticing that he was still standing, you paused, slipping your school blazer off and laying it down next to you, patting it. “here, come sit down! you don’t have to keep standing, y’know. i’m not gonna bite!” you teased, feeling satisfied when he came and sat down next to you. 

“anyways! how has the studying been? have your test scores been alright lately?” 

“yeah, they’ve been alright. enough to pass.” 

“i’m glad to hear it! you’re improving so much, it’s so impressive! oh, you can also always ask me for a tutoring session or if you need anything. that’s what i’m here for!” you offered, smiling at him. “i admire your diligence, so i’m happy to help with anything!” 

baji nodded at your words, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, thanks.” 

after a few moments of silence, you offered one of your earbuds to baji, who accepted. you weren’t sure if the two of you had the same music taste, but you figured it was worth a try, and surprisingly, he didn’t seem to complain at all. in fact, he even complimented your song choice, which made you feel a very normal amount of happy. a very normal amount. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

you were scared awake by a sudden yell, jerking as you immediately sat up, wondering what was going on. 

“hey!! open this door right now!!” the banging on the door drew your attention to baji, who was no longer by your side and was yelling at the door. “hello?! shit…” he walked away from it, sighing a bit. 

now that you were a bit more awake and coherent, you realized that it was dark outside. 

oh shit…

“ohhh my god, i’m gonna be in so much trouble, ohhhh my god…” you mumbled, scrambling for your phone to check what time it was. when you finally found it and flipped it open, the only thing that popped up on the screen was the dead battery symbol, making you groan. 

“uh…” baji started, seeming a bit awkward. “the door…is locked.” 

“what?!” you exclaimed, shooting up and walking towards the door. you tried the doorknob to no avail, proving baji’s words to be true. “oh my god…dude, i’m so dead. school administration might actually kill me if they find out about this…” 

baji was running a hand through his hair, also seeming to be very stressed. “my mom’s gonna kick my ass…” 

now that you were looking more closely, you realized that baji had ditched his glasses and that his ponytail was gone, making him seem almost unrecognizable. in fact, you might not have recognized him if you’d passed by him on the street looking this way. 

in all honesty, he actually looked so much better without the thick lenses of his glasses blocking the view of his amber eyes, and you thought that his dark hair being free from a hair tie suits him a lot better. you’re curious to see how he dresses outside of school now; he would probably fit streetwear pretty good-

wait, you have to focus. there are more important things to be thinking about right now. 

right, right. 

focus. 

“baji-kun, does your phone have any battery?” 

“no…” he mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looked at the sky. you sighed, trying to think of something. in the midst of your thinking, a chilly breeze blew by, making you shiver a bit. 

“ahh, i can’t believe this is happening.” you murmured, laughing a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation. “actually though, i’m sorry about this, baji-kun. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.” you said, feeling a bit guilty. after all, you had been the one who had offered for him to sit down with you, and from what you remember, you were the one who fell asleep. 

“it’s fine, i fell asleep too.” he said, leaning down to grab your school blazer off of the floor. “here, put this back on. it’s cold.” he tossed it over to you and you gladly accepted it, brushing some of the dust off before slipping it on. it helped a bit against the cold, but you supposed you underestimated how chilly the nights get in the spring. 

baji sat back down, taking his school blazer off and setting it beside him, loosening his lie. he leaned his head back against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. he seemed to have given up in trying to get someone’s attention, instead accepting the situation. you were about to sit down again and do the same, but you suddenly got an idea, shuffling around in your pockets for some spare change. 

“yes! 500 yen!” you whispered excitedly, walking up to the vending machine. “hey, baji-kun, do you like red bean?” 

“huh? yeah, why?”

“one sec…” you answered, putting the coins in the machine. you picked out two red bean buns, watching as they slowly dispensed and fell into the bottom compartment. reaching into the bottom, you grabbed both of them, walking a few steps and sitting next to baji. 

“i mean, it isn’t exactly dinner, but it’s something!” you said, offering one of the buns to baji. he accepted it, saying something about paying you back as he opened the wrapper, immediately taking a huge bite. you did the same, not realizing how hungry you were until you started eating it. 

“i’m actually such a genius for this!” you exclaimed, continuing to munch on the bread. “it’s so lucky that i ended up approving the budget for this vending machine!” silence fell over the two of you as you continued eating, but you felt more content than awkward. you’re glad that you ended up stuck here with someone nice like baji. 

speaking of baji, you were still a bit caught off guard by how different he looked without his glasses and ponytail. of course, you’d noticed how cute he was even before, but the word you would go with now is more like…attractive? 

really attractive, but still cute. 

“what?” 

“huh?” 

“you were lookin’ at me.” you felt your cheeks flush, a bit embarrassed at the fact that he caught you looking at him. 

“oh, i was just thinking, you look a lot different without your glasses. do you actually need them?” baji seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again. 

“nah, i jus’ don’t want people gettin’ the wrong idea about me.” he ended up saying. “i’m trying to get better with school, so if i go around lookin’ the way i do…” 

“girls will be attracted to you?” baji sputtered at your words, almost spitting out the bread that was in his mouth. 

“hah?! no!! it’s ‘cause i don’t want people knowing i’m in a gang!!” your jaw dropped at his words, and he subsequently smacked his hand over his face. 

the information was a huge shock to you. of course, you’d heard the rumors, but you’d chalked them up to just that; rumors. after all, even though baji wasn’t someone with perfect grades, you always saw him trying his best to get his grades up, and you really admired that. 

“you…pff…you’re in a gang?! riiight…” you managed to get out, giggles starting to overtake your words. “baji-kun, you literally dressed in a sailor school uniform to get extra tutoring-!” 

“hey! that was one time!” he grumbled, his ears turning pink. you finished laughing, wiping some tears from your eyes as you calmed down. 

“okay okay, sorry. i mean, are you being serious though?” you asked, feeling a bit curious.

“yeah. only losers lie about stuff like that.” 

“okay, which one then?” 

“toman.” again, your mouth dropped at his answer, but you recovered quicker than before. 

“t-toman, like tokyo manji gang…right. yes. wait, would you get arrested if people found out you were in a gang? why can’t anybody know?”

“it’s ‘cause then random dudes start showin’ up at school to fight, and then i get in trouble for fighting.”

“ohh, i guess that makes sense. why would they bother you at school though? school isn’t the place for that stuff…”

“dunno. it just gets annoying to deal with after a while, and my mom always kicked my ass when the school called her, so it was kinda crap.” you nodded thoughtfully at his words. 

“well, your secret’s safe with me, baji-kun! pinky promise i won’t say a word to anyone!” you held your pinky out, but he just looked away from you. 

“i believe you, you don’t have to-”

“c’mon!! it’s not a pinky promise if you don’t lock pinkies, y’know.” 

“...fine.” you cheered as baji relented, gently wrapping his pinky around yours. you shook your crossed pinkies and let go, feeling satisfied, (why did that small contact with him make your heart skip a beat?) 

“there! and you can beat me up or something if i break it.” you joked, leaning your head back against the wall.

“i’m not gonna beat you up.” 

“eh? why not?” 

“i don’t hit girls.” he said matter of factly, his tone quite serious. “only assholes hit girls.” you stared at him for a moment, seeing the dead serious look on his face before you smiled, closing your eyes. 

“y’know, you’re a pretty stand up guy, baji-kun. i like that about you.” you hadn’t meant to say the last part, but you were hoping he would just ignore it. 

“...thanks.” after that, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, the only light source being the moon. you enjoyed living in tokyo, but if there was one thing you didn’t like, it was the fact that you couldn’t see the stars at all. 

“this wall is so uncomfortable…” you muttered, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again. you’d long since given up on trying to get off the rooftop, so you figured that you might as well get some sleep since you were sure tomorrow was going to be interesting, (you weren’t looking forward to having that conversation with the principal). 

abruptly, you felt baji’s arm across your chest, pushing the side of your head to land on his shoulder. 

“better?” he asked, seeming to have no reaction. 

“uh, yeah…isn’t this uncomfortable for you though?” 

“nah.” 

“o-okay…” you said hesitantly. if you weren’t so tired, you probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep from how flustered you were right now; after all, you’ve never had a boy offer you his shoulder to sleep on, so why wouldn’t you be flustered?

it definitely wasn’t because it was baji. 

definitely not….

it was definitely because it was baji. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus: 

chifuyu and ryusei both looked down at the sight in front of them, shock filling their bodies. 

they’d been worried when baji had skipped the toman meeting yesterday evening, and they had been even more worried when his phone had been switched off, spending the rest of the night trying to find out what happened to him. however, now that they knew what had happened, they were about to burst their seams from laughter. 

“pff…do, hah, do we wake them up?” chifuyu whispered, his cell phone out and snapping pictures. 

“n-nah, haha, they look pretty cozy…pfff…” ryusei whispered back, his cell phone also out and snapping pictures from every angle. 

in front of them was baji and you, your head resting on his shoulder and his head resting on top of your head, dozing off without a care in the world. he had draped his blazer over the both of you as a blanket, and if one didn’t know any better, they might think that the two of you were a couple. 

“pff…this is some good blackmail stuff,” ryusei chuckled, exuding a proud aura. “look at toman’s little keisuke, all grown up now and sleeping with his crush! that’s what dreams are made.” chifuyu spluttered at ryusei’s words, a shocked expression on his face. 

“baji-san has a crush on (y/n)-san?! isn’t she the student council president?!” he whisper-yelled. ryusei nodded and shrugged. 

“the heart wants what the heart wants, or something.” 

“both of you, shut the fuck up.” 

“eek!” 

“gah!” 

baji glared at the two boys in front of him, holding up a finger to his lips, telling them to shush. 

“what’re you still doin’ here? scram.” they both immediately made a beeline for the door, fearful of baji’s wrath after being woken up from sleep. 

baji rubbed his eyes, yawning a bit as he looked around. he’s not sure what time it is, but he’s glad that it was only those two idiots who saw the two of you and nobody else. 

we should probably get up and get to class before someone else comes up here. 

he turned to the side to wake you up, but he stopped, looking at your sleeping form. he chuckled a bit when he saw your messed up hair, wondering how it got so messed up when the two of you were sleeping sitting up. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the clouds passing by. 

just five more minutes. 

[maybankxw]

EASE

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ abuse; unprotected sex; ] minors dni!!!

summary: jj is seeking shelter and comfort away from his dad

word count: 1.3k

a/n: y'all enjoy <3

links: masterlist / taglist / ask box

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

“Mind me staying the night?” “Course not.”

I squeezed my phone, slipping off the couch, tugging my black dress down, concerned, walking in the direction of my porch. It was around six in the evening, the sun started to set down, lighting up everything with a golden glow. My leg bounced anxiously as I kept flipping my phone, minutes stretched into hours and the wait was unbearable. I knew something happened. Again. A tall frame appeared on the horizon, coming closer. I leapt up to my feet, freezing on the spot, staring at JJ’s face. His eyes were fixed on the floor, lip bleeding, cheek wounded and scratched, knuckles skinned as he released his clenched fists.

“I’m fine,” he rasped, closing the distance between us, leaning in to pant a soft kiss on my forehead, our eyes closed, his brawny arms wrapped around me.

“I see,” I murmured back, resting my palms on his chest, feeling the heat of his body searing through me.

“It’s okay.”

He led me in, then followed my steps into the house. I rushed to the kitchen, searching for medication.

“Take your clothes off, I’ll put it in the laundry,” I called out, pawing for a bottle of alcohol and some napkins in a cabinet. Back to the living room I spotted him on a couch still fully clothed examining his hands.

“J, take your shirt off, it needs a wash.”

His dark blue eyes lifted up to stare at me for a good minute, then hesitantly, he pulled the shirt over and dropped it down the floor, making me swallow thickly. His whole

left side of the body was bruised.

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.

I settled down next to him, wetting the napkin in alcohol, grasping JJ’s face tilting it to the side a little, “This is gonna sting.”

His face shrunk in pain and he hissed as I slowly applied the cloth on the wounds on his cheek and his lip, “Shh, hold on, I need to take care of this, please.”

He was quiet, I saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes, I pressed one gentle kiss to the untouched side of his face, stroking his hair, then my gaze fell to the bruising on his ribs. My fingers faintly brushed the sensitive skin, now I was the one with tears in my eyes, that started scattering down my face, “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to look up at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he stared at me, wiping my tears away with his thumb, “I’ll be fine, just didn’t want to stay there tonight.”

“Come live here,” I straightened up, pleading, holding his hands in mine’s, “Parents aren’t home for another month, but they wouldn’t mind anyway.”

He shook his head in denial, “Don’t want to put you in danger.”

“You wouldn’t.”

When I finished cleaning up all the cuts, I sent him to the bathroom, only to realise I haven’t gotten him a towel. 

“JJ, I—“ I froze in the entrance at the picture in front of my eyes, watching him through a misty glass, water dripped off his hair, which messily hung low as he poured down some shampoo, muscles in his back flexed, drops of water scattered down his naked ass and as he washed the bubbles off, his head carefully turned back to see me staring.

A grin formed on his lips, glass door opened and he pulled me into the shower just as I was. 

My dress got soaked in moments, but he clung to my waist, pressing himself against me, making my stomach flutter. I could feel him get hard, his face inches away from mine as we shared the same air, “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, “I really wanna kiss you.”

His mouth caught my upper lip briefly and feathery, then it deepened as he realised I didn’t resist him. He started kissing me properly, driven by desire, pushing me towards the wall, slipping his tongue in my mouth, moaning at the taste of me and the pain I so desperately tried to soothe. I tangled my fingers in his wet hair, wiping them off his forehead, travelling lower to hold his cheek, “Are you okay? You sound like you’re hurting.”

“I sound like I wanna fuck you right here, right now. Wanna make you feel good.”

“Do it then,” I dared, biting on my lip to suppress a grin growing on my face. His mood definitely shifted, he didn’t seem to be worried about his dad anymore, not at the moment at least. 

Blue eyes darkened as he stared at my face, gripping the edges of my dress, pulling it over my head and throwing it to soak on the floor, then he dropped to his knees meanwhile holding my gaze, his head turned up now.

“Thank you for taking such a good care of me,” he spoke, planting a gentle kiss on my stomach, making me purse my lips and grasp his hair. His fingers looped in my panties and he slowly dragged them down, peppering kisses down my thighs to my knees, “You’re the best thing that happened to me. Ever.” His mouth landed on my clit as he sucked it in, forcing a moan to slip out of me, his tongue delved in between my folds, his hands pushing my legs further apart. I felt him smiling.

“Promise,” another hot lick followed as his eyes searched for mine while I struggled to breathe normally, “I’ll try to take a good care of you too. As much as I’m capable of.” In a moment he was back up, towering over me, his hands skimmed my sides, my chest, my ass, his lips parted waiting to kiss me again. Instead he swiftly swivelled me around, bending me over, his huge palm rested on my lower back as his free hand was stoking his cock. He slid the tip against the inner side of my thigh and then sunk in me in one torturously slow push, causing me to cry out.

“That alright?” his hips flexed as he started moving back and forth in a steady pace, leaning down to me, his nose buried in my hair. “Mhm,” I whined, desperately grasping his thighs, scratching them as he pushed to the hilt and backed away, holding me by my stomach, the rings he was wearing stung me as he tightened his grip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” his rasp lingered in my ear as his head levelled the side of my neck, “Can I have you like this forever?”

His thrusts lengthened, lips roamed my shoulder, my arm as he pressed my clit and let go, making me moan. Loud.

“Yeah,” I gasped, pathetically trying to brace myself on the wall, “Oh god, JJ—“

“Are you coming?” his movements became rougher and faster, his fingers squeezed my ass as he fucked me relentlessly, the sound of running water wrapping up over my moans.

“Yes, don’t —“ I pawed for his leg again, my arms stretched behind, “Don’t stop.”

The pads of his fingers returned back to my clit, a few little strokes were enough to send me into a bliss. My head went dizzy, my body weakened as my thighs shook, but he held me, fucking me through my high.

A loud groan came out of his mouth as I felt him twitching, his movements became sloppier and after a few more thrusts he pulled out, cumming all over my lower back. The drops of thick warm liquid contrasted with cool water. Huge palms grabbed my sides, he propped me up and started washing me up with water at first, then added some shower cream, rubbing it all over my body, spinning me over to face him again.

“I actually do want to come live here.”

A smile tugged on my lips as my arms wound around his neck, “I want you to come live here,” I mumbled in his ear, my voice muffled, then I backed away staring into his eyes, “I’d rather take care of you in any other way possible than to witness you being abused.”

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters as Hotel Guests

As requested by anon. :)

If Cosmere characters stayed at a hotel that was suspiciously like hotels in our world that I've been too, what would that be like?

1. Kaladin: The one who gets up SUPER early to do things

Kaladin is a morning person, as Shallan realized during their Chasm Field trip. Kaladin is the one up at the crack of dawn, hitting the hotel buffet and then embarking on the 19 tourist destinations he has planned before lunch. Honestly, the hotel barely sees him.

Kaladin: The hotel buffet opens up at 6am?! Kaladin: Wow, talk about burning daylight. Kaladin: Well, maybe there's a coffee shop or something that opens earlier...

2. Lightsong: The one who barely leaves the hotel room

Lightsong knows that the point of a vacation is to lounge.

Lightsong: Scoot, do you think you can call down and ask them to send up some more pillows? Llarimar: You have six pillows already, Your Grace. Lightsong: Yes, but I am trying to create a pillow nest, and right now it lacks structural integrity. Llarimar: ... Llarimar: Right away, Your Grace.

3. Wyndle: The one who is excited by all of the funky hotel decor

I'm thinking in like a Hilton or something, where it's not bad decor, but the hallway carpet is a strange pattern and the painting on the wall is a silver apple on a bed of tulips for some reason.

Wyndle: Wow! LOOK at this chair, mistress! Wyndle: Such a fine and rare specimen! Lift: And just THINK of all the different butts that have sat on it! Wyndle: ... Wyndle: I-I suppose that is a type of enthusiasm...

4. Siri: The one who is delighted by all the little sops and shampoos

I think Siri is someone who appreciates the little things, you know?

Siri: Wow, Vivenna, look! Siri: It's shampoo, but it's TINY! Vivenna: ...Yeah? Siri: It's so CUTE!

5. Vin: The one who wants to steal all the little soaps and shampoos

I mean, it's not actually stealing of course, but if you keep stashing all the little soaps and shampoos in your bag, then they bring you more, and you can end up with quite a few!

Vin: Is it a holdover from my days on the streets, do you think, that I feel such an urge to grab every single one of these tiny hygiene items and stash them in a big pile in my suitcase? Elend (sticking a shower cap and a makeup wipe in his bag): Maybe but then what explains me?

6. Rock: The one who is too excited about the hotel breakfast buffet

Look, I know that Rock can actually cook well and has good taste. But I also know that he loved crunchy soulcast chouta wraps. I just think he'd enjoy the novelty of it.

Rock: This melon, she's so crunchy! Sigzil (wearily): That's because it's not fresh. Or ripe. Rock: It's called texture!

7. Yumi: The one who is excited by having a TV in front of the bed

...It's me. I've never had a TV in a bedroom and I always think it's so fun and novel to have a giant TV that you can watch while in bed. A-And Yumi would be like that too, I'd bet! She loved the Hion Viewers!

Painter: ...At some point, we should probably leave the hotel room. Yumi: Ooooh, another episode of Law and Order is on next!

8. Wayne: The one who tips the cleaning staff well

Most people who tip leave a few dollars. Wayne leaves...more.

Maid 1: This guy took all of the hotel shampoo and left origami ducks in their place... Maid 2: He also tipped each of us $500, so he can be as eccentric as he wants.

9. Sadeas: The one who actually uses the mini bar

I assume that only rich, fashionable people use the very expensive mini bar that exists in some hotel rooms.

Sadeas: [Lounging in the hotel robe and drinking a martini] Sadeas: I bet Dalinar is making instant ramen in his hotel coffee pot or something right now. Ialai: What did I say about daydreaming about Dalinar on our vacation? Sadeas: ... Sadeas: Just saying. I'm fancier.

10. Vasher: The one getting drunk in the hotel bar

He's the one slumped in a corner, radiating darkness.

Vivenna: Aren't hotel drinks a little expensive? Vasher: Eh. Path of least resistance.

11. Steris: The one who sanitizes every item in the hotel room

Listen, Steris read about how the cleaning staff don't have time to clean the remote control or the light switches or things like that. That's why she has those huge boxes of sanitary wipes.

Steris: [ceremonially handing a box of sanitary wipes to each of her kids] Steris: Go, my children! [children yelling in excitement as they start wiping down everything] Wax: This...isn't why we had children, right? Steris: Actions can have multiple reasons.

12. Breeze: The one who orders room service

I mean, Breeze LOVES when other people bring him the food/drink he wants (mostly drink).

Breeze: I think my Soothing is getting even more impressive. Allrianne: Oh? Breeze: Why, I simply spoke through that phone and asked them to bring me up a glass of wine, and they're doing it! All the way from here on the seventh floor! Allrianne: ...It's room service. You pay for that. Breeze: Shhh, let me have this!

13. Vivenna: The one who unpacks fully

We're talking, hanging up all of your shirts, putting socks in the dresser, the whole nine yards. I have a friend like this and it's weird, right?

Vivenna: [humming as she puts all of her socks carefully into a drawer] Siri: [glances over to her own suitcase, which is somehow already a giant pile of clothes] Siri: Strange sometimes to think that we're sisters...

14. Wax: The one charged with a massive cleaning bill

Let's be real: Wax and his team bring massive destruction wherever they go.

Hotel Manager: ... Wax: ... Hotel Manager: ... Wax: ... Hotel Manager: How did a herd of rabid geese even GET into your hotel room?! Wax: I'll just write you a check.

[si1verghosts]

Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

[hey-august]

Putting Buggy in my favorite tired old romcom trope and imagining him trying to set up a „perfect“ date where he tries his best to come across as a well mannered, bright, conventionally handsome gentleman, because he thinks that’s what YOU would want him to be. He knows he scored this date out of pity, but once he’s done with this evening, you’ll see him as more than a joke of a man, he can do it!

Cue slapstick scenarios en masse, causing him to loose his temper at least once, trying to impress you with a fact that YOU correct him on and that’s just so obviously wrong and an accident that leaves him with only half an eyebrow, singed tips and the wax nose (ESSENTIAL TO HIS PLAN! If he could get rid of that eyesore in the middle of his face he may have had at least a snowball chance in hell with you) to finally abandon ship and melt right of his face.

And you’re enjoying yourself tremendously. You had your doubts when Buggy came in looking so unlike himself, trying to be something he’s not, but now? After all that chaos and one candle accident later? Now that you’re sharing the bottle of wine he snagged before hauling out of the fancy place he tried to wine and dine you at, sitting on the beach laughing about everything and nothing? Perfect date. Would do again. You absolutely love that clown shit.

ADORABLE. PRECIOUS. LOVELY.

LET'S EXPLORE THIS CONCEPT SOME MORE, ANON.

WC: ~800 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, some profanity, drinking, that's about it

Of course it’s a pity date - that’s the only reason you agreed so readily. It’s definitely not because Buggy blurted out the question before you had a chance to ask him on a date. And the way you choked on your drink? That had to be because you thought it was a joke. Not because you were surprised and excited.

Let’s not talk about everything leading up to the date itself. Like how all his “good” shirts were dirty or wrinkled. One smelled like old hot dogs. So he had to borrow a shirt and it was fine. Kind of plain, though. Not flashy. Plain white cotton, but at least it fit.

And his hair. A low ponytail would suit the occasion. Hopefully you wouldn’t notice his greasy roots. Buggy ran out of time to wash his hair because of everything else he was working on. Mainly the nose. He sculpted it out of wax and it looked… It would probably look alright during a candlelit dinner.

Buggy just needed to get through the dinner, prove himself as a decent guy, score a second date, maybe a kiss or two, and that’s all. Not too much to ask for, right?

Well…he forgot to bring you flowers. He showed up empty handed (except for the sweat collecting in his palms). You didn’t say anything, but he’s certain you noticed and were adding it to The List of Failures. And that’s only the start of his panicking.

Next, Buggy demanded a table. That table. Yeah, the one that is already occupied. Fine, okay, this table is alright. He wanted the darker corner since it was more intimate (not so he could hide his nose or the sweat stains in his pits), but whatever. 

Then he demanded the good wine. The real shit, not that cheap boxed shit. And he can tell the difference! Which is true, Buggy is a boxed wine connoisseur. Well…here’s the thing. Smell and taste are tied together, and that wax nose was more decorational than practical. Some words were had over the wine, before the sommelier brought over a dusty unopened bottle for Buggy to inspect and give gruff approval for.

You tried to interrupt and say the other wine was just as good (and far less expensive), but Buggy was too eager to please and too nervous to back down. 

The rest happened in a blur. Buggy doesn’t remember much. He might have talked over the waiter explaining the day’s specials. He definitely kicked the table a few times while trying to sit comfortably. Maybe he laughed a little too loudly and another table told him to be quiet. And maybe he threw a bread roll at that table.

Buggy definitely remembers knocking over your glass of water, though. It was an accident. He was reaching for your hand for some dumb reason and your drink got in the way. Of course he wanted to help, so he leapt out of his chair, kicking the table yet again, and pretty much threw his napkin at you.

And in this chaos, he must have leaned over the table too long. Over the tealight. Even though it was a small candle, and it was only a few seconds, his glob of wax was ready to make a grand exit. It was already barely clinging to his sweaty oily skin, and this was the right time to just -PLOP- right into a puddle of water on the table.

But here’s the thing that you’ll take to your grave. Seeing Buggy hunched over the messed up tablescape, hands over his face, and looking downright mortified and murderous - well, it made your heart pitter-patter.

Buggy looked like himself, for the first time that night. That “nose” was not really your preference, so hiding the middle of his face from view reminded you of how much you were crushing on the cute clown.

Dinner was over at this point. Staff was walking over, the table with an extra roll was also shouting for Buggy to be ejected, there was broken glass on the table. It was time to go.

Ending the night on the seashore was a much better way to spend your first date with Buggy. He had pulled out his red nose from a pocket so he could actually enjoy the wine. Surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste any better and he lamented not throwing it at the sommelier before leaving.

You’re glad he didn’t though. Because then you wouldn’t get to watch him drink from the bottle under the moonlight. His adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. Drops of liquid escaping from the corners of his lips and starting a journey down. That white shirt was now unbuttoned (so his armpits to dry out) and rolled at the sleeves. 

And, well - damn.

Buggy was definitely getting a second date and a few kisses. Maybe something a little extra for dessert.