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#its so nice to have someone cook for you
coolnonsenseworld · 4 months
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Samurai and Ninja in crappy pics because December here is under a constant cloud and I just want y'all to see them all golden and cute without learning how to take aesthetic pictures 🥴 💙❤️😆🥰
linktr.ee/Mezzy
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bitchthefuck1 · 2 months
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Tom's line about Shiv being selfish and "find[ing] it very hard to think about me" is actually so telling because while it's absolutely true that she rarely takes his position into consideration, Tom never once thinks about what he can do to help Shiv unless it also benefits him.
Every single time he makes a move or sacrifice that might help her, it's always something that he thinks will give him a leg up. He volunteers to take the fall for cruises, not for Shiv, who is in no way implicated, or even for Waystar, but because he thinks it'll ingratiate him to Logan, and the second it seems like he might have to actually follow through on that, he immediately tries to get out of it and even throws Shiv under the bus. Meanwhile, for all that Shiv disregards his interests, there are a number of things she does that only help him, and she's the one who actually sacrifices something and undermines her position with Logan to beg him not to let Tom go to jail.
It just makes it so clear that no matter how much he might love her (and I think he does, in his own compromised way), for him their relationship was always built on the underlying assumption that it's her job to prop him up, but it's not his job to help her.
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thereprisesystem · 1 year
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finally some decent picrews.
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timmisny · 2 years
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i miss my mom
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pulsedemons · 17 days
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ive worked mostly food service, & i think an important part of the restaurant style sandwich process that a lot of youtubers are missing, is that some of the ingredients have to have been sitting in the fridge for a little longer than a lot of people would like. if you're really trying to mimic that fast food flavor
i have never eaten a better at home sandwich than the ones i make with leftover vegetables from burger night. something about the tomatoes and onions hanging out, sitting in their own business in a container in the fridge overnight, two days, maybe three. same with the meat, you gotta get that store brand shit that's hanging out in the plastic bag. don't go getting the fresh sliced deli stuff
i get trying to enhance the recipes that's all well and good. but if you're looking for something thats closer to the same thing at a place you get a big sub for $7 . you gotta understand that they prep a crapton of ingredients and leave em in the fridge
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shinkai-kaiju · 3 months
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what is it with the trend of like. artists and cooks online shitting on their fanbase and insulting them. does that even sell. its annoying as hell.
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faerociousbeast · 1 year
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even my own cousins who are older and SO much taller than me found me intimidating apparently. what am i supposed to do in this world
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ddollipop · 6 months
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CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )
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#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .
#. word count! — 5.1k .
#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .
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When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.
And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.
Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.
“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”
Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 
His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.
A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.
And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.
You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.
But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.
“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”
“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”
“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”
Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.
“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”
His bare hands cup your cheeks.
“Please,” he repeats.
It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.
Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.
“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”
You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.
“I feel fine,” you assure.
“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”
You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.
“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”
“After,” he answers quickly.
He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)
For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.
Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.
Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.
Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)
“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.
His shoulders straighten as you say his name.
“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.
“You think so?” You smirk a bit.
“I do.”
Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.
You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.
“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.
He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.
“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”
You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.
“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.
Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.
“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”
It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.
The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.
“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”
That is what you like to hear.
“Anything?”
“Anything.” 
His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.
“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.
“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”
You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.
“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.
“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”
“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”
God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.
“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.
“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”
He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.
Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.
“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”
You could cum just hearing that.
With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.
His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.
“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.
For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.
The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.
There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.
He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.
“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.
“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”
You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.
“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”
You smile.
“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”
“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.
God, you hope so.
You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.
“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.
He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.
“I fucking tried,” he says again.
It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.
“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”
He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.
“You have,” you assure him.
“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”
The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.
“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”
“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.
“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.
He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.
“Of course I will,” you answer.
It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.
You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.
It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.
His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.
From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.
He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.
“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.
It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.
“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”
You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.
“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”
He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.
To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.
“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”
His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.
“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”
It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.
Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.
He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.
Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)
He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.
“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.
Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.
“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”
“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”
Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.
His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.
“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.
He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.
“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”
“I do,” you gasp slightly. 
As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.
This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.
“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”
He kisses you once more.
“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”
You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.
His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.
“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”
He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.
Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.
“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”
You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.
“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”
You feel him smile against your neck.
“I’m glad, darling.”
For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.
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landograndprix · 1 month
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xi
part ten - part twelve
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ charles finally realizes things between you and lando are in fact serious.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ sorry this took so long :') charles needs professional help <3
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milliexoxo
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liked by y/nusername, logansargeant and 5,784 others
milliexoxo okay but my mom speaks italian
tagged: landonorris, y/nusername, carlossainz55
view all 583 comments
norrizz NAH MISS ZOE LECLERC SIT DOWN IM NOT READY FOR YOU TO STAND
↳ yukisan HONESTLY WHATS NEXT WALKING?!
bott_ass HAVE Y'ALL NOT SEEN MILS LATEST VLOG SHE DOES WALK ALREADY
norrizz NAH SEDATE ME IM NOT READY FOR THIS
norry4 Y'ALL FORGOT ITS HER 1ST BIRTHDAY IN LIKE 2 WEEKS?!
landoscar look at mom and dad :(
julieeeexo refuse to believe that's zoë, why is she growing so fast?!
carlandooo carlos and zoë?! 🥺
↳ sharl16 charles punching air rn 😂
charliecharlie aw I'm becoming the biggest y/nlando shipper 😩
logansargeant love the new haircut. 🔥
↳ hamilt44n asjklmsks arianna what are you doing here?!
grussell63 @.y/nusername help your kid out 😭
landonorizzzz pls @.y/nusername adopt logan as well 😭
landofourr wait is this considered a y/nlando hard launch?
↳ chilisainz girl they don't need a hard launch, it's so obvious with everything they do 💀
versainz155 carlos casually hanging out with lando and his little family is what I'm living for <3
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y/nusername posted to their story
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charles_leclerc replied to your story
charles_leclerc
Where's zoë?
y/nusername
with millie
charles_leclerc
What hotel are you staying in?
y/nusername
we rented a place, zoë is not stuck in a hotel room if that's what you're hinting at, she's able to crawl and walk around all she want.
charles_leclerc
You go on a lot of dates with lando and leave zoë with someone else
y/nusername
you're joking, right?
you're becoming a real asshole, Charles
get a grip
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 768,523 others
y/nusername quando in Italia 🧀 🍝 (when in italy)
tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo
view all 1,176 comments
norry4 not the bucket hat, my girl has been hanging around with lando to much 😩
milliexoxo I told y'all my mom speaks Italian
↳ charlesgirlies your 'mom' speaks Italian because her baby daddy is half italian
oscarpastry charles is not half Italian 💀
charlesgirlies girl, he is in spirit lmao
bobnorriz lando and zoë content y'all 🥰
norstappen not really sure if I like the fact zoë is walking but okay..rude :(
el645 when are you going to admit you cheated on charles?
↳ hamilt44n oh god the stalker made its way to insta 💀
yukisan when is charles going to admit he cheated on y/n?
el645 aren't yall curious why they broke up?
charlescharles dude we don't need to know why they broke up? 🤡
landonorris been cooking with my best friend 💜
↳ hamiltonh SHUT UP 😭😭 😭
milliexoxo close to turning a year and still a better cook than you
bott_ass girl you're never going to get along with your stepdad if you keep bullying him like this
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y/nusername
📍 Nice, France
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liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 675,458 others
y/nusername a year ago the tiniest little girl changed my life for the better, happy 1st birthday to our silly little bear ❤️❤️❤️❤️
view all 1,425 comments
bott_ass happy birthday zoë!
maxfewtrell happy 1st birthday to my best friend ❤️
riabish happy birthday pretty girl! 💜💜
logansargeant happy 1st birthday zoë!
↳ hamilt44n I love this, I hope y/n adopted Logan 🥺
milliexoxo my silly little girlfriend, hope you have the happiest of birthdays! <3
carlossainz55 happy birthday to the funniest girl ❤️
norrizz this girlie is so loved 😭 happy b-day little princess! 😍
el645 funny for someone who didn't want a kid in the first place
↳ chilisainz Noelle get your ass out of here
norry4 man's must be blind, this woman LOVES her daughter
lando happy birthday to our little bear 🐻
↳ y/nusername ❤️❤️
landonorris ❤️❤️
yukisan everyday I come on this app and cry :(
charles16 Monaco gp week? Nah, it's been Zoë her week ❤️
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y/nusername
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liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 698,452 others
y/nusername the bestest company. <3
tagged: milliexoxo, logansargeant, landonorris, liamlawson30
yukisan Logan had been officially adopted 😭
↳ grussell63 and Liam & his girlfriend?! 😭
lewisham Liam and y/n gave little brother big sister vibes back when Liam took dr3 his seat for a while, I'm not surprised!
norrizz I don't think y'all realize y/n started socialising way more after she left charles, I wonder with who she's hanging out with 👀
landoscar lando and oscar content thank you queen!!!!
norry4 mom and dad with their kids <3
chilisainz wonder where the die hard y/ncharles shippers are right now..
↳ yukisan probably still skipping around in delululand
mcnorris lads, she's still dating charles, lando and y/n are just friends...duh 🤪
yukisan if that's what it's like to have lando as just a friend, can I have him as a friend as well 😭
lawsonbaby LIAM?! CANT WAIT TO SEE THE VLOG
carlando they're insta official 🥺
maxfewtrell cute but where am I?
↳ milliexoxo this post is meant for the cute people..
landonorris and yet you're in it..
milliexoxo 😲
y/nusername contrary to popular beliefs, I'm actually nice and didn't want to turn you into another meme
maxfewtrell I appreciate that, thanks mate ❤️
nortrell MATE?! Best buds these two 😭
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
1K notes · View notes
mellowwillowy · 3 months
Text
"Stop the wedding!!"
So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)
All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.
"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!
"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.
"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.
"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"
"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.
"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.
"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"
"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.
"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"
"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.
"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.
"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.
"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.
"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.
"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"
And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.
"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.
"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!
Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.
And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"
The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!
--
"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)
Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."
"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"
"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.
"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"
--
Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"
The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.
Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)
"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.
Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.
Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.
3K notes · View notes
incorrectbatfam · 4 months
Note
Jason is a hopeless romantic 100%
it just doesnt show
But everyone goes to him whn its time to plan dates
Dick: Hey, can I ask you something?
Jason, reading: No.
Dick: You see, Wally and I have our weekly date night coming up, but we've been to pretty much every place there is. You got any ideas for how to shake things up?
Jason: *scribbles coordinates and tosses him the Bat-plane keys*
[later]
Wally: Wow, I've never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
Dick: I'm glad you like it.
Dick: *texts Jason a thumbs up*
Jason: *read at 8:55 PM*
———————
Tim: Jason, glad you're here! I totally forgot it's me and Bernard's six-month anniversary. Help me out, man.
Jason, clipping his toenails: Fine. You better write this down 'cause I'm only saying it once.
Tim: *nods*
Jason: Go to Home Depot. You're gonna need some rope, a tarp, hammer and nails, a hatchet, matches, and fuel. After that...
Tim: *furiously takes notes*
[later]
Bernard: A camping trip was a great idea. It's nice to get away from it all. And I can't believe you set this all up yourself.
Tim, chuckling nervously: What's a boyfriend for if not to build a tent and chop down a tree?
———————
Duke: So the school dance is coming up.
Jason, working: Theme?
Duke: Under the sea.
Jason: Ugh, how cliché. Anyway, Armand's Tailoring has a blue suit that'll match whatever your girlfriend's wearing. Tell him I sent you. After that, call Patricia's Bistro and make a reservation with the code word "surreptitious." Alfred can take you in the limo if you give him a 24-hour heads-up to clean it. Once you're there, remind the DJ he owes me a favor to get your song requests bumped up. And remember, a slow dance is basically moving your feet in a square but otherwise go with the flow.
Duke: Sweet, thanks!
———————
Cass: Steph is sad.
Jason, cooking: *sighs*
Jason: *takes out a tub of ice cream*
Jason: *scoops a hole in the middle*
Jason: *fills it with candy*
Jason: Here.
Cass: Thanks!
———————
*phone rings*
Jason, waking up from a nap: What?
Kory: Sorry if I woke you. Barbara's coming over for breakfast in half an hour but I burned it with my powers. It was supposed to be eggs benedict.
Jason: Order takeout and put it on fancy plates.
Kory: You're a lifesaver—
Jason: *already hung up and went back to sleep*
———————
Kate: It's Renee's birthday tomorrow. I have a gift, but I'm not sure if it's good enough.
Jason, polishing his gun: If it's from you, it will be.
———————
Bruce: *walks in*
Bruce: Hey, son. Selina's not talking to me after our argument. How do I tell her how much she means to me?
Jason, reciting Shakespeare: I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, "I love you."
Bruce: You're right. I'm just gonna tell it to her straight. Thank you.
Bruce: *leaves*
Jason: *takes off his headphones and turns around*
Jason: Did someone say something?
———————
Damian: Todd, what is love supposed to feel like?
Jason: Why do you want to know?
Damian: None of your concern. Now tell me.
Jason: *shoots a training dummy*
Jason: It's when they're lodged in your head like a bullet. Except without the excruciating pain and messy red stuff.
Damian, nodding: Tell me more.
———————
Roy: *takes down a villain*
Jason, sitting on a roof: *wolf whistles*
Roy: The hell?
Jason: I know hot when I see it.
Roy: What are you doing here?
Jason: I brought Arrowdogs.
Roy: You hate Arrowdogs.
Jason: But you don't.
Roy: Aw, how sweet—EYES UP HERE, TODD!
2K notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 3 months
Text
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Cherry Picked
Synopsis: To get closer to university, you decide to move back to your childhood home. That's when you bump into Seungcheol, an old friend you haven't seen in ages. Surprisingly, he still remembers how much you loved the cherries he used to pick for you from his backyard when you were kids.
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings: Ex neighbors, ex childhood friends to lovers, smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), ass slapping, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, cum swallowing, praising, pleasured tears, Seungcheol is such a sweet guy (he gives cherries in your mouth), wap and etc.
The decision to move in with your grandma came from the practicality of being close to the university you were about to start. As you settled into your chosen course, you realized that the proximity of your grandma's house would not only provide a familiar and comforting place but also ease the transition into this new chapter of your life.
The idea of being near the university meant more than just convenience. It was an opportunity to reconnect with the cherished memories of your childhood, with the added support and love your grandma could offer. As you stood on the familiar sidewalk in front of your grandma's house, memories of childhood vacations flooded your mind. The pretty white house, with its charming garden and welcoming porch, stirred up emotions as the taxi came to a stop. It was a neighborhood filled with nostalgia.
Taking your baggage from the taxi, you looked around at the fancy houses lining the street. Children played on the sidewalks, and elders observed the comings and goings of the neighborhood, a scene that hadn't changed much since your middle school days.
You walked up to the front door, memories echoing with each step. With a deep breath, you touched the ring bell, anticipation bubbling within you. The door opened, and there stood your grandma, her eyes lighting up with joy. She enveloped you in a tight hug, the warmth of her embrace and the familiar scent of good food in the air immediately comforting.
"Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you again!" she exclaimed, holding you at arm's length to get a good look at you. "Come in, come in! I've been waiting for this day."
You stepped inside, and the atmosphere of the house embraced you like an old friend. The scent of home-cooked meals wafted through the air, instantly transporting you to the countless happy moments spent in this very place.
"I've cleaned up your room, dear. I wanted everything to be just as you remember it," your grandma said, leading you down the familiar hallway. The floor creaked slightly beneath your feet, adding to the symphony of memories.
As you entered your childhood room, a flood of emotions washed over you. The room, though tidied up, held remnants of your past – the posters on the walls, the cozy bed, and the worn-out but cherished belongings. It was as if time had stood still.
"Thank you, Grandma. It feels like I've stepped back in time," you said, a lump forming in your throat. "I've missed this place."
She smiled warmly, patting your cheek affectionately. "You're always welcome here, my love. Now, freshen up, and we'll have a nice dinner together. There's so much to catch up on."
As you settled into the room, the nostalgia continued to weave its magic, creating a comforting cocoon that wrapped around your heart. 
As you sat down for dinner with your grandma, the aroma of home-cooked meals filling the air, she couldn't help but bring up the topic of your love life. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she asked, "So, any boyfriends in the picture, dear?"
You chuckled, poking at your food. "No, Grandma, no boyfriends at the moment. Just focusing on university and settling in."
She raised an eyebrow playfully, "Oh, come on! Someone as beautiful as you must have admirers."
You blushed at the compliment, "Well, maybe, but no serious contenders."
With a mischievous grin, she leaned in a little closer. "You know, now that you're back in the neighborhood, maybe you'll find someone interesting. I did see Seungcheol, you know, Mrs. Choi's grandson from down the street. He looked so cute the other day."
You tilted your head in confusion, surprised by the sudden matchmaking suggestion. "Seungcheol? Really, Grandma?"
She chuckled, nodding. "Yes, really! He's a nice young man, and he's been doing some work around the neighborhood."
Amused by your grandma's matchmaking efforts, you couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Grandma, you're something else. Maybe I'll bump into him and say hello..."
She joined in your laughter, the sound echoing through the familiar walls of the dining room. "You never know what the neighborhood might have in store for you!"
The morning sun painted a golden hue over the neighborhood as you tiptoed down the stairs, determined not to disturb your grandma, who was still enjoying her peaceful slumber. After a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast, you felt refreshed and ready to explore more of your childhood haven.
Entering your bedroom, you set about tidying up a few things. As you moved some items around, your eyes fell upon a dusty old box tucked away in a corner. Curiosity piqued, you opened it to find a treasure trove of dolls and toys, relics from your own childhood.
A smile played on your lips as memories flooded back, and an idea sparked. The sound of children playing in the garden next door echoed through the open window, and you recalled the two little girls you had seen the day before. With the box of toys in hand, you made your way down to the garden.
Leaning against the fence, you called out to the two girls who were engrossed in their own imaginative play. They turned to you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise, but soon broke into gentle waves as they approached.
"Hi girls!" you greeted them warmly, holding up the box of toys. "I found these old dolls and toys in my room. Would you like to play with them?"
Their eyes widened with excitement, and genuine smiles spread across their faces. You crouched down, placing the box on the grass and inviting them to explore its contents. The girls eagerly delved into the box full of dolls, their joy infectious.
As you were about to bid them farewell and head back inside, they called out, "What's your name?"
You chuckled at their innocence. "I'm Y/N," you replied.
They exchanged glances before one of them asked, "Y/N, do you want to play with us?"
You hesitated for a moment, the memories of your own carefree days flooding back. With a warm smile, you sat down on the grass, joining the two girls in their imaginative world. The laughter, chatter, and the timeless joy of play filled the air as you momentarily lost track of time.
As you sat on the grass, enjoying the laughter and playing with the two little girls, the crunching sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. A shadow fell over you, and a friendly voice rang out, "Hi, pretty girls. Your mom is calling you for lunch."
Looking up, you were met with the sight of a handsome young man holding a basket full with cherries. You quickly got up, brushing the grass off your shorts, and apologized, "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize how quickly time passed."
He smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No worries at all. It looked like you were having a great time."
Glancing over at the two girls heading into the house for lunch, you returned your attention to the boy in front of you. As you looked into his eyes, you immediately recognized the gummy smile and the familiar warmth it brought. The basket of cherries triggered a flood of memories, and it dawned on you that this was Seungcheol – the same Seungcheol who used to deliver cherries to your grandma's door when you were younger.
"Seungcheol?" you asked, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.
His eyes widened in pleasant surprise, and he returned the smile. "Yeah, that's me. You remember?"
"Of course!" you exclaimed, a wave of memories washing over you. "You used to deliver cherries to my grandma's house all the time when I was younger. It's been years."
Seungcheol chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Wow, small world. I remember your grandma always appreciated those cherries. My grandma used to send them directly from her backyard."
As you both started walking towards the house, cherries in hand, Seungcheol continued, "I still help my grandma with the cherries. It's a tradition now. Anyway, it's good to see you again. Your grandma mentioned you're back in the neighborhood."
"Yeah, just moved in," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. 
Your attention shifted to the basket of cherries Seungcheol held, the fruit looking ripe, round, and tempting. — Cherry is still your favorite fruit, but you don't know if he remembers— Seungcheol noticed your gaze and offered, "Want some? They're fresh."
You smiled gently "Oh, no, thank you. I'm good."
Seungcheol grinned, seemingly understanding, and said, "Alright, I'm going to deliver these. I'll leave you right at your door. It's literally the next house."
As you walked together towards your grandma's house, he carried the basket of cherries with ease. The short distance allowed for a brief conversation.
"So, how's everything been since you moved back?" Seungcheol inquired, his casual tone making the conversation feel effortless.
"It's been good," you replied, a genuine smile playing on your lips. "Just settling in, you know? It feels nice to be back."
Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Well, we're all happy to have you back. The neighborhood has missed you."
As you reached the doorstep, Seungcheol stopped, turning to you with a small bow of his head. "Well, here you are. If you ever need anything or just want to catch up, you know where to find me."
With a friendly wave, Seungcheol continued on his way, leaving you standing at the familiar doorstep of your grandma's house.
[...]
The doorbell chimed, and your grandma, bustling around in the kitchen, called out for you to answer it. You eagerly made your way to the door, and as it creaked open, there stood Seungcheol, a vision of a hardworking young man with a basket of cherries in his hands.
Dressed in a white shirt that clung to his muscular arms and chest, with gardener jeans bearing the traces of dirt and a smudge on his face, he looked like he had been tending to his grandmother's backyard. The baskets he held were filled with an abundance of cherries, their vibrant red hue catching your eye.
"Hey there," Seungcheol greeted, a warm smile on his slightly flushed face. "Remember cherries being your favorite?"
You beamed, genuinely surprised by the thoughtful gesture. "Yes, they still are. How did you remember that?"
He tilted his head, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks. "Oh, you know, memories just pop up sometimes." Seungcheol handed you the larger, more beautiful basket of cherries, and your heart skipped a beat.
"Wow, thank you so much," you exclaimed, the surprise evident in your voice. "Are these for me?"
He nodded, his smile widening. "Yep, especially for you. I hope you like them."
Your heart warmed at his gesture, and you thanked him sincerely. Watching him head towards his house, you closed the door behind you. Turning to your grandma, who had observed the exchange with a knowing grin, you both burst into laughter.
"Oh, Grandma, Seungcheol brought cherries," you shared, holding the basket close to your heart.
She chuckled, a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, isn't that sweet? Looks like someone remembers your favorites."
As you savored the cherries Seungcheol had brought, your grandma, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, reminded you of her plans for the next day.
"By the way, dear, tomorrow I'm going to a senior's dance with Mrs. Choi," she said, a playful smile playing on her lips. "Do you mind being alone for the evening?"
You couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing tone. "Oh, not at all, Grandma. I'll be just fine. You go enjoy the dance. It sounds like a lot of fun."
She nodded, her smile widening. "Good, good. You know where everything is if you need anything. And who knows, maybe Seungcheol will be around to keep you company."
Your cheeks warmed at the suggestion, and you playfully rolled your eyes. 
As the next afternoon rolled around, you glanced out the window and noticed Mrs. Choi and your grandma making their way to a taxi. Seungcheol, being the courteous young man he always was, helped them into the cab with a gentle demeanor.
Hidden behind the door, you couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before you. Seungcheol's kindness and attentiveness were evident, and the sight warmed your heart. It seemed like some things never changed, and Seungcheol continued to be the sweet, considerate person you remembered from your childhood.
You took a moment to appreciate the simple beauty of the moment – the friendship between the grandmothers and the helpfulness of Seungcheol – Seungcheol turned around, catching your eye, and offered his signature gummy smile. He approached you, a bit of dirt still clinging to his gardener jeans, and started a conversation.
"Hey there," he greeted, his warm gaze fixed on you. "My grandma asked me to keep you company while they're out. I hope you don't mind."
You quickly responded, "Oh, no, it's not necessary. I don't want to bother you. You have your work to do."
Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head. "No bother at all. In fact, it's my invitation. Come with me, and you can watch me pick the cherries."
You hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist the genuine warmth in his invitation. "Well, if you insist. I wouldn't mind watching you in action."
With a playful grin, he gestured towards his grandma's backyard. "Great! Let's go."
You followed him to the back, finding a cozy spot on the little stairs that provided access to the rear of the house. Seungcheol, with his basket in hand, started picking cherries from the lush trees.
As the comfortable silence settled between you and Seungcheol, you took a moment to bask in the warmth of the sun, closing your eyes and relishing the feeling on your skin. When you opened your eyes again, the scene had shifted. Seungcheol was now busy washing the cherries inside a bucket.
His movements were light and deliberate, but your attention was quickly drawn to the definition in his arms. The gardener's jeans showcased his strong legs, and as he washed the cherries, the muscles in his forearms flexed with every careful movement. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, running down the side of his ear, and his chest was accentuated by the tight white shirt.
You found yourself captivated by the unintentional display of his body. The sight of his veiny hands moving gracefully as he washed the cherries seemed to mesmerize you. The play of sunlight highlighted the contours of his arms, and you couldn't help but follow every movement, unintentionally getting lost in the scene unfolding before you.
Without noticing, your legs were pressed together and your lip bitten between your teeth, panties getting ruined by how wet you are. 
As you lost yourself in the unintentional admiration of Seungcheol's physique, you were oblivious to the fact that he had noticed your subtle reactions – the rise and fall of your chest, the slight furrowing of your eyebrows. Little did you know, he had seen it all.
Breaking your reverie, you looked up to find Seungcheol walking towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. In his hand, he held a single cherry, and a playful smile adorned his face.
"Y/N," he said, holding the cherry between his fingers. "Open your mouth."
You widened your eyes, a sudden self-awareness hitting you as you adjusted your posture. Seungcheol, undeterred, gracefully squatted in front of you. With a gentle yet confident gesture, he presented the cherry, and you complied, opening your mouth to accept the fruit.
Seungcheol delicately placed the cherry on your tongue, and your lips wrapped around it lusciously. The subtle hum that escaped him at the view sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.
Seungcheol sat down next to you, drying his hands with a towel, and his mischievous side took over. Leaning in, he whispered teasingly into your ear, his voice low and filled with playful intent.
"So," he began, his tone a playful drawl, "do you always look at guys washing cherries like that, or am I just lucky today?"
You breathe sharply, trying to compose yourself, so you don't seem more desperate than you already are. Seungcheol's playful teasing continued, his tone filled with humor as he leaned in a bit closer.
"Or maybe," he added with a sly grin, "you've got a secret cherry fetish? Admiring the way we handle them, huh?"
You couldn't help but laugh at Seungcheol's teasing remarks, his playful banter adding a layer of humor to the unexpected moment. "Oh, you caught me," you responded, feigning a dramatic admission. "I'm a cherry enthusiast, secretly critiquing everyone's cherry-picking technique."
Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the shared amusement creating an easy camaraderie between you. "Well, lucky for me, I've got the best cherry-picking technique in the neighborhood,"
"Is that the only thing you're good at?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Seungcheol's expression shifted, his playful smile replaced by a more provocative look. He licked his lips and raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours with a hint of intensity. "Is there something else you think I should be doing?" he asked, the air between you suddenly thick with a newfound tension.
"Is there something you want to show me?" you asked, your voice laced with a teasing invitation.
Seungcheol's eyes darkened with a hint of desire as he bit his lower lip, the provocative expression sending a thrill down your spine. His response was a low, husky murmur, more teasing than ever, "Oh, I've got a few things in mind sweetheart."
"Yeah?" you responded, a playful glint in your eyes as you continued to eat him up with your gaze.
Seungcheol's control wavered, and with a sudden impulse, reached out, pulling you onto his lap. The move was confident and electrifying, instantly closing the distance between you. 
Seungcheol's response was a husky "Yeah," laden with desire, and without further hesitation, he closed the gap between you. His lips devoured yours in a heated kiss, a culmination of the teasing banter and charged glances that had been building throughout the afternoon.
The taste of sweet cherries lingered on both your lips, adding a sensual undertone to the passionate exchange. Seungcheol's big arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer, the proximity intensifying the electrifying connection between you. The world outside seemed to fade away as the kiss deepened, the shared desire threading through the intimate embrace.
Seungcheol grabbed your hair, exposing the delicate skin of your neck. The sudden roughness sent a thrill through your body, and you squirmed on his lap in response, making him groan.
His lips found your neck, and with a mixture of kisses and bites, he left a trail of sensations that sparked pleasure and desire. The intensity of the moment heightened as he explored the sensitive skin, each kiss and nip fueling the growing heat between your legs. 
Seungcheol's hands, still firmly gripping your hair, traveled down to your ass, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh with a teasing grip. The rough denim of his gardener's jeans added an extra layer of friction, making your pussy throb.
"Seungcheol," you breathed, your voice a mixture of longing and anticipation, "more."
His lips, still grazing your neck, paused for a moment as he looked up, a wicked glint in his eyes. "More, huh?" he teased, his fingers tightening their hold on your ass. "What do you want, exactly?"
"Fuck me? Please?" You ask almost begging, your hips grinding on his clothed cock.
The boldness in your response seemed to ignite a deeper flame within Seungcheol. His eyes darkened with desire, and a low, guttural moan escaped his lips at your explicit request. Without further words, he took immediate action.
His hands, still firmly grasping your arms, guided you to stand. Seungcheol, driven by the hornyness, led you towards the inside of the house. Pressing his bulge on your ass, as he grabs your tits over your shirt, making you mewl. 
Seungcheol's hands skillfully unclasped the buttons of his gardener. The fabric surrendered to gravity, finding its way to the ground, leaving him only in his shirt. With a swift motion, he discarded the shirt, casting it aside without a second thought.
With a swift motion, he pushed your shorts and panties down, and in the quiet of the room, you swore you heard a faint, tantalizing sound, perhaps a soft tearing as fabric met the fervor of the moment.
But to be honest, out of all the problems– your pussy clenching around nothing – a rip in your shorts was the least of it.
The way Seungcheol looked at your sopping cunt, spreading your folds with two fingers admiring how soaked you looked, the action made you leak. "Hmm, looking so wet for me, I should pick cherries in front of you more often…" He smiles, giving an open-mouthed kiss on your clit.
Your legs flinch, and immediately involve his two arms around your legs, tugging you down. "Shit! Yes Seungcheol!" 
He sucks your clit bobbing his head, his mouth forming a pout around the bud while his tongue slipped inside of your pussy sometimes. As a welcome, the last thing you expected to receive when you arrived in the city was to have your childhood friend eating you out like a starving man, while holding your legs tightly.
Seungcheol tried to keep you pressed on the bed, but your hips bucked against his face and your legs trembled around his head, so in a way to keep you quieter, he slapped your thigh, making your body jolt. "A-ah!" Well, he supposed it would keep you quiet.
But you arched your back, moaning his name deliciously while your hands gripped the sheets. 
"Oh? You liked that?" He gives you a surprised glance. And you nod, your cheeks flushed. 
His hands caress the skin before giving you another slap, another and another…  
“Y-you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” 
He grins, before starting to lap your clit fast, your head immediately spinning because of the different stimulations. And your orgasm comes without warning, the strength of his arms can't prevent your legs from wrapping around his head.
Arousal fat drops run down your cunt, making his face and lips glossy. As Seungcheol got up, the air in the room seemed to shimmer with the residue of your orgasm. Your breathing was heavy, each inhale a reminder of the intensity.
The sight of Seungcheol's milky skin, now fully at your disposal, rekindled a surge of energy within you. Almost immediately, you couldn't resist the urge to reciprocate, driven by a fiery desire that demanded more.
With a burst of enthusiasm, you wrapped your hands around his neck, surprising him as you playfully knocked him onto the bed. His laughter filled the room, a harmonious melody to the charged atmosphere. Undeterred, you leaned down, your hands now venturing towards the hem of his underwear.
Tugging at the fabric, you slid the underwear down his leg, revealing more of his bare skin. His hard cock jumps from the piece of cloth, the head flushed and the slit already leaking the glistening precum. 
Sensually, you wrapped your tongue around his cock, a slow and deliberate motion from the base to the tip. The moment reached its peak as you provocatively put the whole dick inside your mouth, your lips touching the base of his pelvis. Seungcheol's body squirmed in response to the sensual display.
The room fell silent, except for the sound of Seungcheol moans and the slurping of your mouth on his cock. 
Seungcheol's hands thread through your hair. His touch guided you as you continued to enjoy the length of his dick. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with the growing intensity of the moment. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, each sound a testament to the desire that pulsed through his body. 
"Fuck… You're taking me so well." His breath hisses when his tip presses on the tight clutch of your throat.
He loves how messy you're taking his cock, your drool mixing with his pre cum, dropping to his pelvis. As he bucked his hips, you gagged around his cock, the combination of sensations driving him to a new height of pleasure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the room echoed with the sounds of his moans.
"Fuck hmm, fuck, I'm coming!" He warns, the dick twitching inside of your mouth. The warm spurts of cum hits your tongue while his grip on your hair tightens, making you groan. 
The room hung in a momentary silence as you released your mouth from his cock, revealing your tongue glistening with his cum. With deliberate intent, you closed your mouthh and swallowed, the action met with a defeated moan from Seungcheol.
Hel grabs you and pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. His hands gripped your ass, making the flesh jiggle under his touch. The embrace was both fervent and possessive as your tongues entwined in a delicious struggle, you felt the heat of Seungcheol's cock recomposing against your thigh. 
Seungcheol, with a sudden assertiveness, rolled your bodies on the bed, placing you underneath him. Like a masterful dance, he flipped you effortlessly, your chest now pressed against the mattress. You felt his strong hands holding your hips up, and you instinctively wiggled your ass against his already hardened dick.
His husky voice whispered in your ear, "You look amazing like this. I'm so hard already" The words hung in the air, carrying with them a sense of appreciation and desire. 
In response to Seungcheol's appreciative words, you teased, "Yeah? So why don't you do something about it?"
"I didn't remember you being this bold," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.
Your playful giggle reverberated in the room as you pressed your hips against Seungcheol. The renewed contact elicited a hiss from him, a reaction to the wet feeling between you.
Seungcheol teased, a smirk playing on his lips, "Admit it. I've officially ruined cherries for you. From now on, every time you see one, you'll think of me."
Raising an eyebrow, "Why are you so sure of it?" Before he could even respond, he silenced you abruptly, slamming his dick inside and effectively shutting up your words, even as you screamed in response.
Seungcheol, now teasing you in return, whispered in a husky voice as your body trembled on the sheets. "Looks like cherries aren't the only thing I've ruined for you," he teased, a wicked glint in his eyes.
Oh, of course. Your pussy really looked ruined now.
You, caught in the swirl of sensations, tried to retort, but he continued his playful banter. "Maybe I should find more things to claim," he mused, his hands exploring your body with a deliberate touch. "What do you say?"
"Oh my g-god! Fuck you!" 
The sharp response you gave to Seungcheol only seemed to fuel his desire. Without missing a beat, he slammed his hips hard again, asking mockingly, "What?" The rhythm of his movements became relentless, a series of repeated slams that left you gasping and screaming, the room filled with the sounds of pleasure and desire.
He continued the forceful thrusts, each one pushing you further into a state of ecstasy. The wetness that enveloped his dick, your slickness dripping on his bed, but you couldn't care less, not when his dick was buried deep inside your cunt.
Seungcheol, merciless in his actions, mocked playfully as your voice became silenced by pleasure, "Not talking anymore, huh?" Your eyes filled with pleasure-induced tears, and your face buried in the pillow, the sensations becoming overwhelming as he brought you mercilessly to the edge.
The room seemed to pulsate with the wet sounds echoing from your pussy, the intertwined moans of pleasure grew louder with each passing second. Every thrust hits your sweet spot, until the familiar sensation starts to be present. And Seungcheol could teel, for sure, since your pussy clenched hard around his cock, making him whimper even louder.
Seungcheol, in the midst of the passionate encounter, asked you to let go completely, urging you to release your pleasure. "Cream all over my cock sweetheart… Oh my god, you look so good baby!" he whispered, a genuine appreciation in his voice.
As you complied, cumming all over his pretty cock, he couldn't help but express how good you looked. Sincerity laced his words as he admired the sight before him – your hair falling beautifully on the bed and on your face, your arched back, lips parted, furrowed eyebrows expressing ecstasy, moans escaping your blissed-out face.
Seungcheol moaned in pleasure at the captivating view in front of him, praising you as he felt himself getting closer. "You're so beautiful like this, lost in pleasure. I can't get enough of you."
As Seungcheol's abs tightened, you felt the surge of intensity as he filled you up with his cum. You took everything, your face buried in the pillows, a mixture of pleasure and raw emotion washing over you. His hips stuttered in the final moments, the room filled with the sounds of shared ecstasy.
As Seungcheol withdrew, a moan escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness, your body feeling both spent and satisfied. The aftermath of the intimate encounter left you sprawled on the bed, a mix of pleasure and exhaustion.
Seungcheol, after the intense and intimate exchange, finally laid beside you. As you both lay there, catching your breath, he looked into your eyes "You know," he began, his voice a gentle murmur, "this feels like coming home again. Having you here, it's like rediscovering a part of myself that I'd almost forgotten."
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bunnysbrainrot · 22 days
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Too Sweet
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A series inspired by Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Content: No sexually explicit content, at least not yet. Some slight fluff? Slow burn vibes? Joel is kind of a dick (for once in my writings), but a protective dick.
Summary: You’re one of the newest arrivals in Jackson after a long trip to seek refuge. Now that you’re settling in, one of Jackson’s most integral men is the head of your first patrol. Will Joel be able to set aside that gruff demeanor for the sake of meeting someone new?
A/N: I’m so sorry about my recent hiatus, everyone. I’ve thought of this series for a while, to get me inspired again and to work towards something bigger. I’ve also thought about having some sections/chapters be from Joel’s perspective. Thoughts on that? Sorry it’s nothing spicy yet, but we’ll work up to it. Tensionnnn
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The sound of birds echoed outside your bedroom window. By some miracle, you’d found a community, after so many months wandering either alone, or with the occasional group, but never for long. The mattress beneath you squeaks as you shift in your bed. Normally an irksome noise, but it reminded you that you were finally safe.
A faint light of dawn trickles through the gaps in the curtains, streaking around the room in a periwinkle hue. Your sluggish grog was slowly wearing off, while you processed your plans for that day. It was a Thursday, according to your new watch. God, you hadn’t realized how much you missed being able to tell the time. Who knows truly how long you’d been out there. Days blurring together, the minutes excruciatingly drawn out without company.
It was nice to be a part of something again.
Finally, you sat up in bed, rolling your head to stretch your neck. How long had it been since you had a proper pillow?
A smile crept onto your face. You’re better rested than ever, but an anxiety still ate away at you. Today was your first patrol outside of Jackson. You weren’t alone, of course, but the expectations you held for yourself could be your downfall.
“Okay, let’s do this,” you whispered to yourself.
Walking over to your dresser, you eyed yourself in a dusty mirror above the chest of drawers. A kind woman named Maria had provided you with a few new outfits when you’d first arrived a week ago. In the meantime until today, she’d given you those days to process and settle, and you were grateful for her patience.
When Maria had asked you what role you’d like in the community, she could see the steely glint in your eyes. Well seasoned from years of fighting and running, yet still a kernel of a protective rage.
You had expressed to her of your journey before finding Jackson. On that day she asked you how many of the dead you had taken out thus far.
“In total, by myself, well over three hundred, I would say. I don’t know, I think I lost track at some point.”
Her expression shifted to one of assurance, like they’d just gotten a worthy addition to their town. Someone who could protect what they’d all built.
She explained the basics of patrols, the routes laid out on an old map, with hand drawn trails and indicators of the area. You made an attempt to remember as much as you could, but surely you’d get good practice being out there, actually doing it.
————
You check yourself before heading out the front door. This time of year, the weather has started to warm up, so your opted for a t-shirt, jeans, a light jacket, and a ‘new’ pair of hand-me-down boots.
The air outside was cleaner than you’d imagined. The scent of early morning breakfasts wafted through the breeze, bringing a pang to your stomach. Maria hadn’t mentioned how long patrols would take; you debated if you had time to grab something from a stall in the heart of town. Other residents had been given spaces to cook for the community, giving out easy meals for these hardworking people.
Turns out you did have time, to your relief. In a matter of minutes, you held a piping hot breakfast sandwich in your hands, its heat seeping into your chilled fingers.
A few folks wave a friendly ‘hello’ as you trek to the Southern side of Jackson, to its border wall to meet up with your patrol group. There was a huddle of both peiple and horses, you noticed, as you got closer. One of the people turned to you, giving a wave in recognition.
“Hi, am I late? I thought I’d have time to get breakfast,” you explained.
There was a woman with kind eyes who spoke next, “Not at all, these bastards just insist on getting up at 5:30.”
“That sure is an early start.”
“It gets them cranky like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied, quickly cut off by a new voice.
It was a gentleman who called to the group, “We all here?”
His voice wasn’t commanding, but it did put people into gear to check themselves. Clearly he was the one in charge of this patrol. The look in his eyes told you all you needed to know.
He might be someone to watch.
You turn to the woman, “I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know anyone here yet. Is there any way you could give me a run-down of who everyone is?”
With a smile, she listed off the names of your group members, pointing them out. Some of them noticed and waved, others gave a slight smile, and others asked for your name. All were introduced until it was down to the man who’d rounded the group.
“And, that’s Joel. He’s head of the patrol.”
Your eyes shot to Joel now that you could put a name to the face. There was a moment of pause when you met his gaze, a moment frozen in time from his stare. He scanned over your face, down to your shoddy boots, and back to your eyes.
His expression doesn’t soften as he says, “Glad to have ya with us. Should be a horse on the way for you.”
Joel turns to face the gate as he rummages through his pockets for a folded map. He unfolds the paper until it spans across his horse’s shoulders.
The rhythmic clonk of a horse’s hooves came from behind. A familiar face approached with a stunning mare, it’s Maria.
“Mornin’ everyone, that should be it,” Maria traded off with you, handing you the mare’s lead. She spoke louder, announcing to the group. “Y’all stay safe out there. Shouldn’t be too bad, but it is getting warmer. Keep an eye out for groups.”
Members of your party nodded before Maria walked off, giving greetings to other folks who’d just begun to bustle around.
Your attention shifted back, specifically to Joel. It seemed that whatever he says, goes, so that’s what you’d follow.
Two men at the top of the wall made their way to the edges of the gate, hauling it open. Golden sunlight peeked above the mountains ahead, casting the world in a yellow glow.
Joel nodded, then a gruff, “Be smart. Stay close.”
————
The sun was overhead now. You’d been out here for hours, keeping an eye out for any infected that roamed too close to camp. A while ago, you spotted one trapped in an abandoned cabin. Which was quickly dispatched by one of the men in your party.
That cycle repeated almost wordlessly amongst you all. Hardly a single word had been uttered aside from Joel’s occasional command or redirection.
For the most part, things were going smoothly. And after a few minutes of some peace and quiet, you realized you’d strayed away from your spot in the formation. Your horse had fallen in pace with a beautiful brown stallion, riding on top, was none other than the leader.
Joel.
You’d turned to see who it was, but were quickly met with another intense stare. Your gaze darts to the side as you issue an apology, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get so ahead of everyone.”
For the first time his expression does soften. A slight hint or kindness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his slight smile.
“It happens. Just… keep a lil’ distance. You’re new, can’t have you rushing ahead without someone else with you.”
The words would form a lecture if it weren’t for his tone. It wasn’t scrutinizing, but rather soft and protective.
His advice brings a smile out of you. A genuine one, for the first time in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as you’d assumed. You tug your horse’s reins to slow her pace, creating a few feet of space between you and Joel.
Yet even still, that smile he gave you kept your heart racing.
It would be a horrible idea, to fawn after him.
Right?
That thought had no effect on the tightness in your chest, or the fluttering in your stomach. Perhaps it was simply happiness that someone so hardened could be so easily friendly. A hard exhale later, you told yourself that it was the camaraderie that flustered you.
The group had made their journey back to town. Aside from the occasional runner, there wasn’t much defense needed this morning. Once your group returned, you’d have lunch and trade off with the next group, and share your findings before they venture out.
You had let your mind wander as you rode with the group.
In a split second, your mare bucks in fright. There was no time to assess what scared her before you were shooting ahead, flying past your patrol group.
“Nonononono- NO! It’s alright, it’s alright-“ you cry, but it falls on deaf ears of a scared animal. Tugging on the reins made no difference. You still shot ahead of the others, directionless without someone to guide you.
“It’s alright, baby, you’re safe! You’re okay. It’s gone!” You plead to the horse to slow down. The reassurances don’t seem to be enough.
A thundering set of footsteps is heard behind you. In a swift move, Joel jabbed his horse with his heel, pushing himself to race ahead of you.
With the rush of the air and galloping hooves, you could hardly make out his instructions.
“What?!” You shouted.
“Pull the reins! And I mean pull!”
You gripped the leather of the reins, drawing them to your chest, tugging your horse’s head back and away. Her pace slowed, but she kept running, now to the left. You could make out a curse from Joel as he redirected.
In a stroke of luck, he made some headway. Joel’s horse zoomed forward, and merged directly in front of yours, and the interruption slowed the mare’s pace just enough.
Another tug of the reins helps her into a steady beat. Joel was directly ahead, now turned to the side to block more of the path. Your horse huffed and threw her head frustratedly. In that short time you had no clue just how far you’d strayed away - looking backwards told you that it was at least a few hundred meters.
Embarrassment showed in your flushed cheeks and wild expression, looking to Joel for some sort of scolding.
“I think something scared her. I.. I didn’t get a chance to see, it all happened so fast-“
Joel raised a hand to stop you mid-sentence. He didn’t wear a smile like before, but his expression wasn’t angry. If anything, he had that protective look once again.
“I know. They’re skittish, ‘specially her. She needs a little more control than the others.”
It’s a reassurance, truthfully. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t on the shit list on the first day. Your breathing had slowed down now, though your heart still raced wildly in your chest.
He scanned your face thoroughly before he asked, “You alright?”
A nod is what you could muster. It’s enough for Joel to give a nod back before waving to the folks behind you, the rest of the group, to call them over.
“Maybe next time I’ll have a more confident horse. No offense….” you paused, “what’s her name?”
Joel’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’s Belle you’re ridin’. Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while, so she’s not as warmed up to this. But you did good with her, all things considered. Handled it well.”
You reached down to pat Belle on the side of her cheek, caressing her carefully.
“It’s okay, Belle. We’re with you. You’re alright now.”
A smile vanished from Joel’s face when you look back up at him. He cleared his throat, his eyes skirting away until your party began to join up with you two.
“It’s all good. Belle got the jitters. Let’s head home.”
With that explanation out of the way, the team could finally resume their return home. Along the way, Joel didn’t have much else to say, much to anyone actually. His silence was solemn - definitely not any invitation to strike up conversation.
Perhaps that’s how he’d always be - resigned, reserved, and off limits to everyone. A part of you ached at the thought of it.
For Joel, that loneliness could be his downfall.
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Hi guys! Thanks for reading, I’m sorry if it seems a little boring, but it’s for the sake of the story building. TRUST it will get nasty soon. 🥰
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hangmanssunnies · 6 months
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Heat To Boil
Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.
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Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 9k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)
Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship. 
It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts. 
Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills. 
You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up. 
Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along. 
Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. 
You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"  
"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response. 
"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."
"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"
"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds. 
"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request. 
"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?" 
Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him. 
"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?" 
You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"
"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries. 
"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm. 
"And what?" Jake asks. 
"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail." 
Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson. 
Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.  
When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you. 
You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead. 
The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste. 
He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.
 "Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson. 
"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes." 
"Now, darling," Jake drawls. 
"Don't darling me."
"Doll," He says 
"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured. 
"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."  
"How is that fair?" 
"It's fair because he is my godson." 
You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?" 
"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."
"So what? You don't trust me with him?" 
"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."
Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling. 
"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on." 
"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.  
You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face. 
After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though. 
When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need. 
You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil. 
When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over. 
"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.  
"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit," 
"You were really great with him today." 
"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."
"Anything I want?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.  
"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic. 
"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking. 
"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly. 
"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."
"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?" 
"Oh, so are you debating or like —"
"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake." 
He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately. 
"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke." 
"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends." 
There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."
"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous. 
"I'm sorry, Dolly." 
"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."
"Are you going to ask someone else?" 
"What?" 
"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone. 
You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe." 
"I could help you find someone," he offers. 
"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."
He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"
"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you." 
"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out." 
"No —"
"Harvard—" 
"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument. 
"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"
"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends." 
"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack. 
"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher. 
"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide. 
"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.  
"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go." 
"We have to," you insist. 
"Why?"
"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option." 
"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now." 
"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"
"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."  
It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."
"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.  
"Don't say thank you."
"What else am I supposed to say?"
"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you. 
"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace. 
"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?" 
"I thought so." 
"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not." 
"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?" 
"I'm leaving." 
"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow." 
"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway. 
"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door. 
"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened. 
"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship." 
"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns. 
"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy." 
"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs. 
"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"
You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him. 
This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath. 
"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first." 
"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much. 
"May I kiss you?" He asks. 
"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist. 
"Can I touch you?"
"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more. 
When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it. 
"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again. 
"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling. 
"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."
Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead. 
"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight." 
Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner. 
"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours. 
"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you. 
"You didn't?" 
"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."
"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion. 
"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans. 
"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way." 
"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby." 
Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back. 
"I'm sorry," you whisper. 
"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."  
A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage. 
"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you." 
"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross." 
"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?" 
You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."
"Great. So, baby —" 
"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid. 
"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly. 
"Then why are you all the way over there?" 
"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself." 
Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself." 
"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are. 
"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him. 
"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly. 
"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?" 
"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours." 
You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed. 
He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is. 
With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch. 
Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you. 
"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away. 
"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like. 
"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body. 
As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin. 
"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?" 
"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips. 
"I want to. Do you not want me to?" 
"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out. 
"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing." 
Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.
"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you. 
Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.  
Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.
 "I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs. 
"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter. 
"Patience is a virtue," he teases.
"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."
Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.
However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk. 
Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?" 
"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well. 
"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby." 
"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."  
Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about. 
The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though. 
"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present. 
"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard. 
The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes. 
"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously. 
"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."
"I'll fill you up," Jake promises. 
"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you. 
"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too. 
Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this. 
Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time. 
"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily. 
"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out. 
Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.
"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.  
"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him. 
Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?" 
"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you. 
"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?" 
"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."
"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you." 
"You're desperate for me too?"
"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?" 
"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly. 
Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more. 
"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm. 
As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him. 
The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak. 
When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?" 
"Do you?" You wonder. 
"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately. 
"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him. 
"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry." 
"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby." 
"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you. 
"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin. 
Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?" 
"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation. 
"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.  
When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back. 
Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile. 
"Hey baby," he whispers. 
"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together. 
"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand. 
"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."
"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention. 
"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved." 
"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow." 
"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better. 
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animeficsworld · 6 months
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One and Only
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Denji x Reader
Summary: In which Denji and you are a couple.
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Denji's heart was surely going to explode.
He had a girl in his room!
And not only that!
He had his OWN girlfriend in his room!
Denji didn't know what to do, he was sweating.
And yet, there you were, ever so calm, watching TV while eating chips.
Denji was having an entire existential crisis and you were watching some drama on TV.
"D-d-d-d-do you want to eat something maybe?" he ended up asking and just as he asked, he regretted it. He barely knew how to cook... Shit.
"Oh! We can cook together." you offered.
You are an angel.
He nearly cried.
Thankfully his fridge was somewhat full.
He watched as you stirred everything in the pan. It was almost ready.
Denji walked over to you and you hugged you, pulling you back close to him, he heard you softly laugh.
Denji felt so happy and full at that moment.
He was so amazed to have you as his girlfriend, and now you were cooking for him? He felt like his heart was about to explode.
And then, his hand began to roam.
His right hand found its way to your boob.
Not like you weren't expecting it. Knowing him and his obsession with boobs, especially your boobs.
And you really didn't mind. Being so anxious about your body, so it was good to have someone worship you.
Denji had very soft and gentle hands. Considering what he could turn into, he is a very nice person who you very much enjoy spending time with. 
And he was treating you well, very well indeed.
You were convinced he would be your first and only boyfriend. Even with his antics, you loved him.
And he loved you.
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arcane-trickster · 2 years
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Typically I don’t do angry tumblr rants but this gbbo smore shit has a cold rage burning in the fireplace of my soul and the words ‘sacrilege’ and ‘heresy’ bubbling up from the depths of my being to be played on loop in mute horror like a scratched record.
So.
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This monstrosity is what gbbo was trying to pass off as a smore.
This is not a smore. Look at it. It’s downright undercooked. That’s not even marshmallow. Or chocolate. It looks cold. This is about as much a smore as Cris Pratt is a voice actor. As a corgi is a wolf. As gbbo is apparently competent at research.
Also me to explain what a smore is.
For anyone who doesn’t know what the fudge a smore is, it’s a typical summertime treat often made at summercamp, when camping, or if you live in a place with a fireplace/assess to a campfire sometimes you’ll use that.
Basically it goes like this; it takes five ingredients, gram crackers, any chocolate bar with rectangular pieces you can break off (traditionally Hershey’s as it’s the cheapest and smores tend to be made in bulk, it’s one of those things a group of people make together otherwise it won’t taste right) large marshmallows, an open flame, and as previously mentioned more than one person to make them at the same time. If you make smores alone, the smores too will be sad and alone.
First you take two gram crackers and break off 1 to 2 sections of chocolate. Place the chocolate on each side, so both sides are all chocolatey. Then you take a marshmallow and skewer it on either a pointy stick from the ground or a metal skewer specificity made for roasting marshmallows/hotdogs depending on if someone has any.
Next you, well, roast the marshmallows. If you’re doing this at a campfire this involves a lot of moving away from the direction the smoke is blowing well and minor amounts of giggle-filled pvp as everyone jostles for the best spots around the fire. Mellow roasting is one of those things that is kind of the point of making marshmallows, the epic highs and lows of seeing how close to the fire you can get yours and how long you can hold it there before it either falls off or catches fire is integral to the entire experience.
Once you hastily blow out the one-fire part of the marshmallow, you slide it off the stick and between the gram crackers and chocolate. Then you squish it a bit to get the chocolate all nice and gooey, and bite in.
It’s gooey, it’s very messy, and the closer it gets to midnight the more it’s delicious.
So now we have established what a smore is, allow me to explain how UTTERLY BUTCHERED that abomination of sugar is.
First, we have the ingredients themselves. Paul Bitchwood describes the middle as ‘Italian meringue’.
Italian meringue.
Italian. Fucking. Meringue.
*deep breath*
IS NOT A MARSHMALLOW.
It does not share THE BASIC PROPERTIES OF A MARSHMALLOW.
YOU CANNOT STAB MERINGUE WITH A STCK AND HAVE IT STAY ON THE FUCKING SICK. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A MARSHMALLOW BEFORE MR BITCHWOOD???? WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO THROW THE TOP OF A LEMON MERINGUE PIE AT YOU TO DEMONSTRATE “PAUL”?! IF IT DOESN’T BOUNCE ITS NOT A FUCKING MELLOW AND THE EFECT ON YOUR FACE WOULD BE ONE HELL OF AN IMPROVEMENT!
So already we have the single most important ingredient straight up ‘substituted’ (if you can even call it that) for an entirely different food with a completely different texture, taste, consistency, and behavior under heat.
But there’s more!
See, that chocolate? It’s not melted chocolate like you might think at first glance- no no no, that’s fucking GANACHE.
YOU KnOW, The THing With THE CoNsistenCY of FroSTING???? :) :) :)
The thing that you expressly don’t want to melt when using it in cooking on pain of death?
Thus removing THE ENTIRE PURPOSE CONSISTENCY FLAVER AND TEXTURE OF THE INGREDIENT
AGAIN!
and then. Ohhhhhhh and then.
Those are no gram crackers.
Those are ‘digestibles”
WHAT THE FUCK ARE DIGESTABLES
THATS WHAT HAPPENS TO ALL FOOD ITS NOT SPECIAL DUMBASS
WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF RICH PEOPLE SHIT ARE YOU EATING THAT YOU NEED TO POINT THAT OUT IN THE NAME
WHAT THE FUCK
AND IT AGAIN HAS A DIFFERENT EVERYTHING THEN GRAaM CRACKERS
WHY
YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO DO THAT IF YOU WANTED IT TO SOUND FANCY YOU COULD HAVE JUST MADE GRAM CRACKERS FROM SCRATCH IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE DO IT BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BUT ITS AT LEAST POSSIBLE AGHHHHHHHHHHH
And then. To add insult to injury after FUCKING injury.
It’s a circle.
It’s A CiRcLE.
WHY IS IT A CIRCLE.
IT SHOULNT BE A CIRCLE-
In conclusion; Paul Bitchywood is a fucker and a Tory and I don’t put stock in god but by whatever powers may be I hope hell exists because this fool is running a marathon to it’s center.
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