#and those eggs were probably not even salted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkynana · 1 year

Text

gamer boys are the easiest target for you. they barely interact with any other woman so the moment you find out haechan was a gamer boy, you promised to sit on his lap any time he wanted to.

warnings : cock sucking, boob job, fingering, finger sucking, pussy slapping (like, once)

taglist : @matchahyuck @jiminsfiilter @jaemjunie @babyjenono @woniebuns @thegracerammy @jyowui (couldn't tag the last two)

note: as the starter of this series, i would like to tell you guys that reader doesn't actually have sex with most of the boys except one. because the point is that she uses these men for their attention and doesn't want anything else from them. if you dont like that you can just stop reading from here. please do not complain to me after this. enjoy reading if you stay!

all the seats were taken at the diner when you entered it. even the high stools were all full. some couples, some friends, some families and of course there were people who sat alone. seems like you had to flirt with that guy over there sitting at one of the booth so you could sit with him.

you pasted on a sweet smile, rolled your skirt up to make it shorter and approached the guy that had his headphones on, focusing on his phone. you knocked on his table to make him look at you. he pushed the left side of his headphone to hear you saying "can i sit here with you?"

"oh, sure." the guy pulled his plate towards him so you could have more space on your side of the table. you took the seat across him. as you landed your ass on your seat, his focus went back to his phone.

it annoyed you.

so you tap on one of his hands lightly. he gave you the same look he did a minute ago when you asked to sit with him.

"what are you doing?" you asked curiously. "watching a stream." he answered.

"twitch?" he nodded. "i wanna see." you got up and sat next to him. your face was literally next to his, your cheek touching his headphones. you have no idea who the streamer was but you watched anyway so the guy would be bothered by your presence.

"ooh, can i have an egg salad, fries and a banana milkshake please? thank you!" you called out to the waitress walking past you. you actually wanted to eat a burger but that plan was canceled. there's no way you'd let this hot man witness how sloppy you eat.

"i can't hear him." you whined. no shit, sherlock. he had his headphones on.

he didn't say anything but he did turn his headphones off, placed his phone against the salt and pepper shakers so you two could watch the stream together. he thought you'd sit away from him, now that you didn't have to lean against his headphones to listen to something. but you stayed close to him. you were practically hugging his arm there. this stranger you met not even ten minutes ago.

"you're a gamer?" you asked him.

"yeah."

probably why he's not pushing you away. when else could he have the chance of getting a pretty girl like you to stick on him like glue?

"really? that's so hot. i always wanted to sit on the lap of a gamer guy while he plays his game." you realized how stupid you sound at the moment. you've done that plenty of times. this guy isn't the first. but still, it's your favorite thing because you could feel the guy getting hard underneath you.

"what's your name, by the way? i'm ___." you finally introduced yourself.

"i'm hyuck. donghyuck. i like your stars." he was referring to your hair clips that were star shaped. his compliment made you shriek in excitement. you knew men liked those sounds.

"thank you!" you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"my food's here!" you did some tiny claps with your fingers, looking at the food you ordered.

"can i uh.. can i get your number, ___?" he suddenly said, scratching his neck awkwardly.

he fell right inside your trap.

"of course!" you took out your lipstick and started writing digits on his arm.

donghyuck was confused as to why you did that. you could've just typed it in his phone.

"people actually still do that?" donghyuck's best friend, mark looked at him weird. and then donghyuck smirked. "i'm telling you. this is legit, bro. i had red numbers on my arm."

"she's like so hot but she still has a little side of cute in her too." donghyuck described you. and just at that moment, he received a call from you. he displayed your name to mark, shaking the phone in front of his face. "she's into me."

she's really not.

"hello?"

"hyuck!" you whined. "i'm so lonely. what are you doing? can i come over?" he couldn't see you but you still made a cute little face.

"of course you can, baby. come here. i'm just about to start my gaming session."

you giggled. "you called me baby."

"and does baby like it?"

"she likes it."

"then hurry here. i'll let you sit on me if you come fast enough." he convinced you as if you wouldn't have some sly tricks down your sleeves to make him let you sit on him while he plays.

not more than 20 minutes later, you arrived at donghyuck's shared apartment with mark. you still haven't met this mark yet and he wasn't there when you came. if you saw him, you'd probably try getting his attention too.

"hyuckie!" you spread your arms up high, asking for a hug from this gamer boy you've met for only three times, fourth if you count the lunch time at the diner.

he immediately gave you the hug and you snuggled against his chest. "i can feel your heartbeat." you said. he kissed the top of your head, catching the scent of your citrus shampoo.

"what does my heartbeat tell you?" he rested his chin on your head. "it's telling me that you like having me here." he laughed at your answer, pulling out of the hug and guiding you to his gaming set.

"i'm streaming today." he sat on his gaming chair, patting his thigh to invite you to sit on him. usually you'd sit facing the pc to see the game and how it's played. but today you felt too lazy to pretend to care about that. you sat facing him, hiding your face on his neck as you gave it lazy kisses.

"hi guys." he started speaking to his viewers. you hoped that some guys you messed with some time in the past would see this and recognize you and feel jealous of hyuck for being the man that got you now.

"is she your girlfriend?" he read a comment.

"are you?" he looked at you and you just winked, making him laugh. he left the viewer's question unanswered.

"flip her skirt." he read another comment which made you perk up. "guys, my channel isn't 18+. i'm not gonna make her flash you." you smiled, snuggling closer to him. you wouldn't mind it if he made you flash his viewers without even asking you.

soon enough, you got bored with just sitting on his lap and not doing anything. he isn't even getting hard underneath you, not to mention his attention that's fully towards his game. why were you even there?

you pushed his headphones away a little so he could hear your whisper. "hyuck, let's make out." he didn't say anything, focus still on his game as his fingers clicked on his keyboard.

so you started grinding on his lap, not caring about his viewers anymore. he turned off his microphone before talking to you.

"baby, let me finish this round first then we can make out." you shook your head and whined. "i want you to kiss me now." you pout your lips. "baby, i-"

you shut him up with your lips, finally getting what you wanted from him. you licked up his mouth, exploring it. your hands behind his neck so he can't pull away.

you hear a faint sound from his headphones that indicated that he lost the game.

but he pushed your arms and pulled away anyway. you had a feeling that he's mad at you. gamer boys' rage can be dramatic but if he got mad at you or yelled at you, you'd leave him that very moment. you hate men who yell at women. their attention wouldn't matter anymore at that point.

"get on the bed." he said. and you smiled in victory, seeing him ending his live. you giggled when you landed your ass on his bed, can't wait for him to get on the bed too.

you stuck your tongue out at him so he could immediately suck on it. "naughty girl." he chuckled. you didn't care about anything else when he finally landed his lips on yours, taking away each other's breath. you could feel him getting hard as it kept hitting your thighs.

gamers are so easy.

"hyuck, wanna suck you off." you said when he pulled away to catch his breath. "what?" he thought he misheard it.

"let me suck you off. i know you're hard and it's because of me. so let me help you." your fingers played with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for his agreement.

"fuck, yeah. go ahead, baby. take my dick out and suck it. on your knees now." he told and you find it hilarious how he's trying to dom you when you've got the upper hand from day one. but you followed his instructions anyway, getting down from the bed to get on your knees. you pulled his sweatpants and his underwear down, revealing his hard and throbbing cock.

the thought that you caused this made you dizzy. you feel powerful. hyuck has no idea. he sat down on his bed, having your face in between his legs.

you started jerking it off while looking at him with round eyes. you even leaned your face on his thigh, moving your hand on his dick lazily. looking so innocent while doing something so unholy. you opened your mouth and let his cock rest on your tongue without actually sucking it. "baby, none of that please. just suck my cock like a good girl." he groaned and you giggled.

deciding to be nice, you closed your mouth around his cock as you moved forward so your nose hits his tummy. you let your tongue out so it could reach for his balls underneath. then, you moved back and then forward again. you loved the sounds that he's making. you loved the feeling of his dick twitching in your mouth. and you know you will love the way he pours his cum into you.

"you're so good at this." his eyes were closed and his head was thrown back. you suddenly had an idea of how to make this more pleasurable.

you took off your shirt, leaving your bra on so your breasts were perked together. you started rubbing his cock with your boobs while you kissed the tip that's peaking out. "fuck, you're so sexy looking like that." he started caressing your hair, praising you. the way he moaned louder and louder convinced you that he was close.

"wanna cum on your pretty face." even if you had different ideas, you're still fine with making his wish come true. so you moved your breasts on him faster as you started sucking on his tip.

"gonna cum. gonna cum. gonna cum. fuck, baby. fuck. paint your face with my cum. close your eyes"

and he did just that. his juice landed everywhere on your face. you're glad he reminded you to close your eyes. you could feel it dripping from your eyelashes to your cheeks. he moaned at the sight, loving his masterpiece.

"you can take a picture, hyuck."

"shit. stay still, okay?" he left the bed to look for his phone.

"open your mouth and stick your tongue out, please." he started taking your pictures. once he's done, he swipes his cum away from your eyes.

"you wanna continue?" he asked but you immediately stood up. "actually i have plans with my girl friends tonight. you can help me clean my face though."

you washed your face in his bathroom and he helped you redo your makeup since he's the one who ruined it. you sat on his sink, facing him. you had him standing in between your legs. "just stroke it up." you guided him to apply mascara on you. "what if i poke your eye?" he worried but you took his hand and showed him how it's done.

"you can take it slow. i'm in no rush." you ensured him.

"maybe you should just bail." he pulled the mascara wand away from your face. "awwh, but i haven't met my girls in so long." as if you actually cared about meeting them. convinced enough, hyuck continues to help you apply your make up.

seeing him this close, with such a focused face made you count his moles and admired how beautiful he actually is. once he was done with your mascara, you pulled him into a kiss, softer than your make out session from before. then you started giving kisses on his moles.

when you pulled away, hyuck had his fingers on your chin. "want me to eat you out, baby?" you bit your lip at his invitation. it was tempting, of course. but you want to keep kissing him too.

you thought of a solution. "maybe fuck me with your fingers? i really like kissing you." you gave his lip a little lick. he chuckled at your suggestion. "and you said you didn't want to continue after swallowing my cum."

he started kissing you again, this time with his fingers teasing your core. "hyuckie, want your fingers in me. don't you want to make me cum on your fingers?" you turned impatient.

"of course, baby. want you to make a mess just from my fingers." you loved the fact that he kept kissing you after you told him that you liked it. your makeup was ruined again at this point but you didn't care. kissing hyuck felt so addicting to you. he looked so pretty like this.

you feel his fingers pushing your panties aside to put it in. you smiled on his mouth. you thought you'd be cumming on your own tonight. you were thankful for making a last minute decision of letting him finger you like this.

he started pumping them in and out if you. "messy baby." he's probably talking about how wet you were and the squelching sounds from both your lips.

"nggh, hyuck. wanna cum." you bit his shoulder and started moving your hips on his fingers, desperate to chase your high.

"fuck, you look so sexy." he fucked his fingers into you faster than before, wanting to see how messy you'd get once he makes you cum for him. "cum, baby. you're doing so well." his lips came back to yours so he'd have you moaning on his mouth.

you started babbling nonsense when you let go and came on him. "fuck, baby. so fucking sexy for me." he slapped your cunt once before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting your juices.

"you taste so good. i should really eat you out next time."

next time, huh? as if.

"we have to do my makeup again." you said. "i'm sorry, baby. i'll help you."

you left his apartment after you're sure that you look presentable. but most of all, you left while being sure that all the next times donghyuck jerks off, he'll think of you. he'll use the picture he took and wish you were there to suck him off again. wished he could at least fucked you. but you won't.

this is enough. you made him hard, made him cum, made sure that he thinks of you next time. he'll probably even compare other girls to you.

you won in the game he didn't know he was playing. so who's the gamer now?

#donghyuck smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #00 line attention series

1K notes · View notes

kiwisbell · 8 months

Text

Whiskey Sour

chapter three: painkiller

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 5.6k

chapter 3: painkiller

Stargazing, and knowing wrong from right.

Joel doesn't quite trust your car not to blow up, so he drives you both out near Devil’s Cove when the clock strikes eleven.

You sit next to him on the truck bench, in your little skirt, and he tries not to look at the way it slips up your thighs. He cannot stop thinking about your words: Don't think you aren't getting a gift after everything you've done to help me. Part of him is thrilled to know you think about him enough to get eager about celebrating his birthday. Another part of him doesn't want to celebrate getting older. He’s old enough.

A third part doesn't give a shit about a present, when he's got you right here, right next to him.

“You were right,” he says. “I do like the telescope.”

“Did you spend a lot of time in the country?”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel even though the truck radio is apparently tuned to a local station that does not play music. The announcer’s voice drones on about the Longhorns’ losing streak. “When I was a kid,” says Joel. “My parents had a farmhouse—raised cows, chickens, sheep, all of it. They had a business goin’ for the locals who wanted eggs or fresh meat.”

You can picture it: a younger Joel, dressed in a farmer’s flannel and a cowboy hat, herding sheep and tending to customers with that same charming smile you know now. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Younger brother. Tommy.” Joel briefly glances your way. “Lost my dad when I was ten. After that, Mom, Tommy, and I ran the place ourselves. I dropped out of high school to do it full-time when she got sick.”

You feel a twinge in your chest. “You, too, huh?”

He sighs through his nose. “Yeah. I would've been about your age.”

“Funny, the way things work out.” You lean back in your seat and turn your head back to the windshield. “But that does sound nice. A life away from all the madness. Just… quiet. Simple.”

“You'd like that?” Joel chuckles. “Thought you were a city girl.”

“I’m not saying I want to milk cows all day,” you tell him with a laugh. “Mom and I used to drive to the east coast in the summertime when I was in high school. We’d visit all the coastal towns and the little restaurants, go whale-watching. That was the only time we could really relax, outside the big city. I looked forward to those vacations most, before she got sick.”

Joel recognises the melancholy tone your voice takes when you talk about your mother. He hears it in his own voice. “She sounds like a good mom.”

“She was.” Your eyes flick to him again, and this time, he's looking at you. “I’m sorry, Joel. I would've liked to meet her.”

“I'd like that, too.” He fixes his eyes back on the road. “You, uh… you hear from Liam lately?”

“And we were having such a nice conversation,” you tease. “He lives with me, Joel. I’m bound to hear from him on a regular basis. Practically daily.”

Not the right answer. His hands tighten around the wheel. “I don’t like him.”

“I couldn't tell.” You pull your knees up to your chest and hug yourself into a tight ball. “You know I’ve never had a real boyfriend?”

Joel scoffs. “Excuse me if I have a hard time believin’ that.”

“I’m being serious!”

“Nah. No way.” Joel shakes his head. “Those idiot high school boys were linin’ up at your door the way these idiot college boys are. You’re too pretty to have never had a fuckin’ boyfriend.”

Your cheeks feel white-hot. “Joel. That’s ridiculous.”

“I ain’t lyin’.” His grin is boyish when he looks at you again and your nerves flutter. “Guys have a way of knowin’ things.”

“Oh, you're so full of shit.” You smack him gently in the arm. “If they were all so interested, why'd they never tell me?”

“Because they were boys.” He gives you a pointed look. “And so is that asshole you live with. He thinks he's got a right to you ‘cause you live with him.”

“No, he—”

“Yes, he does. Any guy would be lucky as shit to have you.”

You lift your brows, opening your mouth to retort, but Joel just looks away, that crooked smirk pissing you off as much as it makes your heart pound with girlish anxiety. “We’re here.”

You slump back in your seat as he parks in a dirt lot by the edge of the water. Just down the road, by the docks, there will be college kids gearing up to celebrate the Longhorns’ first win of the season, and some just wanting an excuse to get hammered. You hop out of the truck as Joel unlatches the gate at the back. “Should be a good view here…”

He trails off when he looks up to find you staring at the midnight sky. The light of the stars reflects in your eyes and the curve of your neck shimmers with a faint layer of sweat in the humid air. When you swallow, he watches your throat hollow, and he wonders how a man is supposed to forget you. If a man can ever see your face, your body, your wondrous, awe-struck smile, and rest peacefully.

“They’re beautiful,” you gasp. “Just like… like the coast in summertime.”

Joel surprises himself when he joins you at your side and reaches for your hand. “It’ll look better if you're laying down,” he says softly. “C’mon.”

You put your hand in his. The touch shifts his axis. The touch is an electric shock to his entire body, restructuring his pathways, reconfiguring his brain. The touch, he thinks, will forever change the way he sees you. It will change everything.

“Joel.”

“Mmm.” He realises he hasn't moved. His fingers engulf yours, your skin so soft under his rough palms that he worries he'll somehow ruin it.

“Thank you.” It’s a whisper, your pretty lips parting in the shape of a gratitude he will never deserve but will spend his moments earning as best he can. Your eyes are fixed on your joined hands, the way your thumb caresses the space between his thumb and forefinger.

He leads you toward the back of the truck. You crawl up yourself, and it's ungentlemanly of him not to help you up, but he cannot touch you again. The world will fall out from beneath his feet.

But it still does. When you shift so you're lying on your back, barely a foot from him, the earth blinks out of existence. All that remains is the faint heave of your chest, skin scattering moonlight, and the way you meet his eyes in the void.

“Gotta look up to see the stars, baby.” His voice is rough.

Your head turns and you face the sky above, but he doesn't move. Not quite yet. He savours the image of your profile, the silvery light on your face, the contentment in your eyes. Your lashes are spidery and your hair fans out beneath you, and all he wants to do is reach out. Touch. Guide you beneath him. Gaze into your eyes as he undresses you. Watch your bones melt for him, your troubles flee your brain, your mouth drop open in a long, dark whine. His name.

“That one’s Venus.” You point to a bright star overhead, and then another. “And that’s Polaris. Those are the only two I really know. And you aren't looking at the stars.”

Joel swallows hard. “No. I’m not.”

“I like it when you call me that.” Your eyes meet his again. Your noses are inches apart.

“Call you what?”

Your breath is a warm puff of air. “Baby.”

He’s losing control of his own body. His fingers crave the warmth of your skin, the heat between your thighs, the knowledge of what's under that fucking skirt. His whole body craves your closeness, needs your attention, will die without you curled up against him. His body seeks the ruination of yours. His heart seeks the comfort he knows he can give you.

“That so?” He can barely get it out.

Your eyes are wide, buttery soft, needy. “Yeah,” you sigh. “It feels good.”

Jesus Christ. “I…” His mouth is so fucking dry he can hardly swallow anymore. “I didn’t mean for—”

“I know.” He’s going to do it. He’s going to throw all of it away and touch you. He’s going to—

Your head turns back toward the sky, and your eyes flutter shut. He can see a small pearl trail down your cheek, and he realises it's a tear. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking. “This is your pre-birthday. You should be giving me ideas for a better gift.”

Joel’s own voice isn't faring much better. His laugh comes out like a hoarse whisper. “This…” He finally looks up at the stars and finds Venus. “This is all I could ask for.”

“Don’t lie to me, Miller.” There’s the playful tone he likes so much. “I’ve got your number.”

“I mean it.” He folds his hands over his stomach. “It’s peaceful out here. Reminds me of home.”

“Do you think your mom would've liked it here?” you ask.

“She would,” says Joel.

You sniffle. “Yeah, mine, too.”

Around him, the crickets chirp and the air is stagnant. It feels like a snapshot of time. Except that you're here, next to him, the warmth of your body rolling in waves over his nerves like a hundred cresting waves.

“Boys never liked me.”

Joel can't help but look at you in disbelief.

“I’m telling you the truth.” You shrug. “When I had my first crush on a boy, I avoided him like the plague, because I didn’t want to be rejected. Then I set him up with my best friend.”

Joel blinks. You laugh like you can feel his amusement. “You don't have to tell me how stupid it was. I know. I just figured, if I didn’t go for it, I’d never get hurt.”

“And what happened every time after that?” asks Joel.

“I was always too busy. I never let myself go to parties because there was always an excuse. Work, school, Mom. I had more important things to do, bigger things to worry about. Last time I went on a date, Mom convinced me to reschedule our usual hospital visit so I could go out with him. Halfway through, the hospital called me.” Your breath shudders out of you. “By the time I got there, she was mostly gone. I lost my last moments with her.”

Joel’s heart surges forward, lurching out of his chest. His hand finds a stray wisp of hair and tucks it behind your ear. It isn't in your eyes or blocking his view; he just wants to. He wants to be the one who's right here when you’re sad. He wants you to never feel like you have to put your own life in restraints—never again. “That was not your fault.”

“He was a total dud, too.” You laugh mirthlessly. “They’ve all been duds.”

And me? he wants to ask. If I put my hand here and I put my mouth there, would you deny me? Would you shove me away? Or would you let me treat you the way you deserve?

He wants to be your guiding hand. He’ll give you what you need. He’ll be as firm as you want and he’ll be gentle all the other times. He’ll show you just how wanted you are.

“You’ll find better,” he says instead. “Can’t promise they won't be fielded beforehand.”

You laugh, facing him again. “Is that so, Miller? You gonna background check them all?”

Fuck yes, I will. Joel shrugs, all pouty and grumpy again, and you just want to grace those patches of grey in his beard.

Yes, it will cross a line. Yes, it will ache so beautifully to touch him the way you want. You don't know how to reconcile these two parts of you: the part that's here to rebuild a life, and the part that wants to simply forget how difficult that life can be and drown yourself in the sweet tang of being alone with him.

“Oh! I forgot.” You bolt upright, scrambling off the truck bed so fast it gives Joel whiplash. You reach into the passenger’s side and pull out your bag. “I stole this from the kitchen. Thought you might be hungry after one cup of coffee.”

You produce a styrofoam container with a piece of chocolate cake inside. “I may have also asked Dad what kind of cake I should bake for your birthday.” You bite your bottom lip. “This’ll have to tide us over until the real thing.”

He doesn't know how to cope with the amount of affection surging up his throat, overfilling his bloodstream. Your mouth is so fucking close. How would it taste? Your dark, sexy perfume smells so good, your hair so soft and a little wind blown from the car ride. You would be so perfect, so beautiful, so soft to touch.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He’s pine and sawdust and a little bit of mint. He’s manly, dark and a bit of grey, strong and broad. Capable. “You don't have to eat it,” you tell him, “but I brought two forks, just in case.”

His chest squeezes. “C’mon up here, baby.”

You climb back up onto the truck bed and situate yourself next to him, both of you sitting up against the back window. You hold the container as you both dig in, the cake a little too soft but still good. Still chocolate. And he's sharing it with you.

It’s not even his birthday yet.

“How’s that Daily Texan gig workin’ out for you?” he asks.

Your eyes light up. He remembered? “I’ve been put in charge of the Student Wellness section. I don't know why the fuck they thought that was a good idea.”

“Gives you an opportunity to learn how to relax.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Any suggestions?”

“This is a good start,” offers Joel. “Stargazing.”

You pocket that idea. “At least I didn't get put on Sports.”

“Y’know I was on the swim team in high school?”

“With those shoulders? Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” You lift your eyebrows at him and all Joel can think is, I want you, I want you, I want you.

When you both decide it's time to head back home, Joel eats the last bite of cake at your request and you slide back into the passenger’s seat. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “That was a hell of a lot more fun than trying to sleep.”

“No, it wasn't,” you laugh. “But I’m glad I could help, even a little. You don't sleep well?”

Lately, baby, it's because of you. “Pretty much not at all.”

Your brows knit together, but Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it much, anyway. I get by just fine.”

“You tell me that when you pass out at the wheel because the caffeine wore off. Do you want me to drive?”

“You still have to drive home on a shitty alternator,” he argues, a little more worried about the state of your car than he's letting on. “I’ll be okay. I’ve gone longer on less sleep.”

You chew on your lip, and Joel brushes the rough pad of his thumb over your chin. “I’ll be okay,” he repeats. “Just buckle up.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Just don't kill us.”

I haven’t tasted you, he thinks. Dying won’t do just yet.

In his dream, you’re wearing the black thong. Nothing else.

You knock on his bedroom door and he lets you in. He doesn't know why. He shouldn't. But he does. And you're there, your pretty tits sitting so perfectly for him, your hands demurely clasped behind your back, your eyes looking up at him expectantly. Wanting. Dark.

He takes control. He pulls you against him, his chest against your back, tilting your head back, exploring your skin with his mouth, dipping his fingers into the flimsy waistband of that godforsaken thong and ripping it in two.

In his dream, you're naked. Joel grabs handfuls of your ass while his hips batter you from behind, your slick, hot pussy sucking him in so deep that his whole body may disappear into yours. It's a dream. It doesn't make sense. But sense knocks at his ribs and cracks them in order to escape. Your mewls and moans as you take his cock replace any inkling of conscience, consciousness. You melt into the mattress and forget your worries with every thrust. He makes you forget.

That's it. That's it, baby. You can take me. My good girl. So fuckin’ good, baby, that’s—

He’s awake. Joel grunts, shucking away his covers. His cock is tenting his boxers, which he scrambles to get off as he burns from the inside out. His cock slaps against his stomach, precum pooling at his navel. He hisses, grasping his shaft at the base, his hips bucking helplessly into his hand. His head tips back against the pillows as he begins to jerk himself off to the image of you underneath him. Moaning. Whining. Joel, Joel, yes, oh, my—

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, spitting into his hand and twisting his hand around the head of his cock. Your mouth parts around the tip and your tongue darts out to lap up the precum on his slit, and he grunts your name. It’s fucking filthy. He’s filthy. “Goddamn—”

Holding you, cradling your head, watching your mouth take him, the tip prodding your throat. Your watery eyes, your needy, leaking pussy, your knees folded so primly under you. As if his cock isn’t down your fucking throat. “Jesus,” he growls, jerking faster, the pressure building in his ears and his throat and his stomach, his balls pulling up—

His cum spills over his hand and stomach as he groans your name, long and loud, to the empty room. He pants, staring up at the ceiling. Running his clean hand over his face, he shakes his head. Mike would kill him if he knew. And he’d fucking deserve it.

Because Joel knows that he doesn't just need any warm body. He doesn't need to forget you by finding someone else. It isn't just a vague need.

It is you.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head jerks up so fast your neck twinges. There's a guy looking at you with a sheepish smile, gesturing to the seat on your left. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to… interrupt.”

“No! No, I’m sorry. Please, feel free.”

He slides into the seat and pulls out his books. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

You're a little surprised to see him offer his hand to you. People your age still shake hands with one another? Giving him a smile, you introduce yourself. “You just had to catch me while I was lost in thought. I’m usually a lot more suave.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” says Steve. He has a charming smile; he's about your age, with dark hair and a lean figure, and a pair of kind blue eyes. “Have you started studying for the midterm?”

You snort. “Please. If I think about it for one second, I’ll be breaking all the rules of my article.”

Steve laughs, assessing you with a brief once-over. “I recognise your name. You edit for the paper, right?”

“Guilty.”

“Only if it were bad. I liked your last piece.” He places his hand over his heart. “Your dad taught you this?”

You smile. He actually read your latest article. “He did,” you say brightly. “I was freaking out over the move here, and he told me how to ground myself.”

Steve grins. “Well, it's good to know the paper has someone of quality writing for them.”

You roll your eyes. “Smooth.”

“I know. Practised it over the last couple minutes in my head.” Steve taps his pen on his notebook. His notes are neat and his handwriting is small. “Hey, if you ever decide to brave the hell that is the study guide, I’d be happy to do it with you. Okay, more like reluctant, but happy to do it with you.”

You really could use the study buddy. “Yeah. That would be great.”

“Thank God,” sighs Steve. “I thought I’d have to beg.”

“Oh, you still can, if you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with a laugh, turning to face the front of the room as the professor walks in. Wordlessly, he writes down a phone number on the corner of his page and rips it out, sliding it over to you. You stuff the scrap of paper in your bag.

Neither Joel nor your father show up at the bar tonight. They both have to get up early to drive across town for the job, but work is a little less alive without the company. Rob still makes sure to walk you to your car when your shift ends at eleven, and it only takes three turns of the key for the engine to start.

The problem is that halfway through the journey home, a torrential downpour starts slicing rain in a diagonal path to your windshield, and your engine sputters until the lights go out. “Fuck!” you cry out, turning the key again and again without luck. Your car is dead.

You climb out of the driver’s seat and wave your apology to the people behind you as you run to the bumper and begin to push in the direction of the road’s shoulder. “Come on,” you beg, shoving and digging your heels into the ground.

Several cars behind you begin to honk their horns, and it only makes your eyes fill with tears. The rain lashes you in the face and soaks your hair through to your scalp, your clothes drenched in freezing-cold water. You don't even have a jacket to stay warm.

“Come on!”

The car gives when you manage to get the front right wheel on the shoulder. Not a single person gets out to help you push the rest of the way, instead deciding to veer their cars around you once there's enough room. Still, they don't care enough not to splash you in the deepening puddles as they race by.

“Don’t worry about me,” you scream, your voice getting lost in the pounding of rain on the ground.

Shit, shit, shit. You're too far away from home to walk the rest of the way, and there isn't a payphone in sight. So, you wrestle your keys from the car out of spite, gather your bag with your work uniform, and make a decision.

He’s making dinner when there’s a knock on his front door. He cleans his hands of raw chicken and heads toward the door. It’s pouring rain; what the hell kind of solicitor wants his business this badly?

The door swings open, and you're standing on Joel’s porch, dripping wet from your head to toes, clutching your bag close to your chest. “H—hi.”

The look in your eye is so resigned, so sad, that he can't for a second think about how it looks for you to show up at his home so late at night. “Jesus,” he says. “What the fuck happened?”

“My car br—broke down. Dad isn’t h—home, and I had to wa—walk.” Your entire body is racked with relentless shivers as you hug yourself. “Do you m—mind if I use your dryer?”

Joel’s heart cleaves in two at the sight of your soaked-through jeans, your drenched sweatshirt, and his blood simmers at the thought of you having to walk home without anyone to keep you safe.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, brows pinching as he ushers you inside and envelops you in his arms. Your whole body sags into him, and he doesn't give a shit that rainwater is seeping through his clothes. You’re cold and he’s warm, and you can relax. Fuck, just being held like this makes you sniffle, forgetting the cold, damp walk and the pile of work you haven't done and the money you don't have in favour of imprinting the feeling of his hard chest and his soft belly pressed against you.

“Joel…”

Your weak, soft voice rattles in his brain and tastes like honey on his tongue. He pulls away to cup your face in his hands, moving your damp hair from your face. “You’ll catch a cold. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, okay?”

You nod, slipping off your shoes and letting him lead you to his bedroom. “Take whatever you want,” he tells you, gesturing toward his closet where all his shirts are hanging up. “Pants are in the drawer there. You want coffee? I’m just making dinner.”

Despite yourself, a little laugh slips out. “You’re making d—dinner at mid—midnight.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was waitin’ for you.” His hands caress your arms, up and down, up and down, watching the tension in your shoulders ebb away. “I’ll let you shower.”

“I d—don't want to stay,” you tell him. “I mean, I do, b—but it’s s—so late.”

He shakes his head, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “Shhh, baby. You've never been a bother and that hasn't changed now.”

“Joel.” He turns at the doorway to face you again. “Thank you.”

He leaves without another word because he doesn't trust himself not to rush back inside and gather you up in his arms once more. You're in his goddamn bedroom. You're feet away from the bed where he jerked off to a dream of you last night. And you can never know. You will never know—no matter how many lines he crosses.

After your shower, you pick out a too-big sweatshirt emblazoned with his company logo and a pair of grey sweatpants. Your cheeks feel warm knowing that he's worn these, maybe even slept inside them, and you dry your hair in a towel. You feel clean, less miserable, and bone-tired, but you still hesitate before you turn the knob and leave Joel’s bedroom.

He’s in the kitchen—you can smell chicken, steamed broccoli, maybe cheese?—and your mouth waters. You didn't know you were hungry until now. Joel’s gaze finds you when he hears footsteps.

You. Wearing his clothes. Dressed in his sweatpants. You even fucking smell like him, your hair cleaned with his shampoo and your body washed with his soap. He may keel over. Blood rushes to his cock, filling it out in his own sweatpants, and if you notice, you don't say a word.

Settling into the chair at the little, circular dining table, you meet his eyes across the way. “This looks good, Joel. Thank you.”

“Where’s your car?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“On the shoulder of a road somewhere,” you reply. “Your neighbourhood was closest, and there aren't exactly many payphones in the suburbs. I’ll call a tow truck in the morning.”

“You pushed your own car to the side of the road?” Joel’s angry instincts are prickling again, his ears burning at the thought of you alone in the dark and the rain, helpless to get anywhere but to him. “Did someone help you?”

Your eyes find a fascinating spot on the table, your silence giving him all the answers he needs. Your clothes were even flecked with mud when you came to him, meaning you'd been splashed by passing cars. Joel’s jaw ticks, his fingers flexing into fists.

He couldn't fix this. He couldn't be there when you needed help. He couldn't even know about it until the damage was already done. “Fuck, baby.”

“It’s okay.” You meet his eyes again, giving him a sad smile. “I’m all right.”

He sighs harshly through his nose. “Come here.”

You follow orders beautifully, closing the distance between you and him. Slowly, so slowly, you bracket his thighs with yours and lower yourself onto his lap, your arms winding around his neck.

He knows you can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh. He knows the telltale widening of your pupils, the darkness in your eyes—the thrilling catch of your breath when he finally lifts his hand to the small of your back, fitting you against him.

There is no going back from a thing like this.

“You're upset,” he says into the thinning air. It feels like a slight. “You don't want me. Not like this.”

You don't reply. You just begin to move.

“Jesus.” His hands find your hips on instinct, squeezing hard as if he can get you to stop. “Shit. What are you—”

“I want you,” you whisper as your hips gyrate slowly over his stiff cock. You never break eye contact. “I want all of you.”

Your forehead drops to his, your noses brushing as he keeps pulling you closer, guiding your hips over him, betraying the words that leave his mouth. The heat between your thighs warms his body, your cunt dragging over his length and your mouth dropping open at the sparks of pleasure against your clit.

Joel grits his teeth, helping you move. “Fuck. Fuckin’ hell, baby.” His cock twitches, leaning precum into his boxers. “That’s it. Take what you want. Take what you need, baby girl.”

He will drink your soft moans down and guide your whimpering voice into his mouth. But you need to come first. You need to take, so he can give. “So fuckin’ good,” he grunts.

“Joel.” It’s a mewl, quiet and pitched high.

He thinks about the truck bed, the stars, the times he wanted and wanted but never took. But it's never been about him. This is you, baring yourself for a man who will hold you and admire you and expect nothing in return. He doesn't. He wants you to know it.

This is about you. He can be selfish later.

He can feel that you're close, your hips stuttering and your breath catching on every intake. “I know. I’ve got you. Just keep goin’.”

Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the consistent pressure against your clit. Maybe it's the need to be warm and safe and pliable in his arms. You come, grasping the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy hair as your other hand clutches his shoulder. But he's got you. He won't let you fall.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He holds you close as you shiver, the cold pulsing out of your body and warmth settling deep inside. Your brain is a bit fuzzy, your eyes a little unfocused. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you away so he can look at you from a better angle. The sounds and sights of your orgasm will linger on the ceiling of his brain like a light that's always on.

You just came on his lap. You've never even kissed him, and the mere feel of his body ground you into a fine golden powder. “I meant it,” you tell him, combing his tousled hair away from his eyes. “I want all of you.”

“You’ve got me,” he says, and he means it. You’ve both tangled a hundred lines into one another; the mess you've both made is unrecognisable. A Gordian knot. But this is real, and it's clear. This is true and present and whatever happens next is inconsequential compared to the peace he feels when he has his hands on your body.

There are no muddied waters when he looks into your eyes.

“When's the last time you ate?” he asks.

An answering rumble in your stomach makes him chuckle. You giggle, still somewhat high from your orgasm. “Today. Yesterday. What time is it?”

He squeezes your thighs and gestures with his chin toward your side of the table. “Eat.”

“But…” Your eyes drop to the space between you, where his cock visibly strains against his sweatpants. You take your lip between your teeth. “You're hard.”

“Yeah, I am. You’re a sexy fuckin’ woman who just used me to get off.” His thumb traces your bottom lip. “I’m old, baby. I can be patient.”

You pout, but he pats your ass and lifts you off him. Your legs tremble as you lower onto your chair. It’s a plain dinner, and it’s not steaming hot anymore, but at least he can cook. And it tastes so much better after an orgasm. After the hellish night you've had. Joel watches you while you eat, and you watch him, too.

“I’ll drive you home,” he says, breaking the silence. “And I’ll call the tower in the morning.” You swallow a piece of broccoli. Joel points his fork at you. “And don’t argue.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” He’s right. “You’ve got enough to worry about.”

You look at him awhile. His cheeks feel warm under your scrutiny, the way you openly admire his face, his body, his hands. “I think you're my hero, Joel Miller.”

Jesus, if that doesn’t make his chest puff up a bit. “That so?”

You take a sip of his lukewarm coffee. “Will you let me show you?”

Under the table, your foot trails up his ankle. Joel breathes in hard. As much as he wants to bend you over the fucking table and pound you senseless, you need to rest. And he needs to make sure you get safely home, where your father will never hold suspicion of the things Joel has done to his daughter. He’ll fashion a story that's close to the truth. He gave you his clothes and drove you home, and he did not let you grind on his cock until you came on top of him.

“I won't tell him,” you say softly. “I won’t.”

Joel senses your unease, your hesitation. “I know, baby. I trust you.”

The smile creeps up your face and fills his ribcage with warm light until it's seeping through the bones. “I know what I’m going to give you for your birthday.”

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #whiskey sour #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

366 notes · View notes

justsomegdude · 5 months

Text

Negan x Gn!Reader

No apocalypse AU

Summary: Fluff post, Negan and Reader just having a nice day together, loving each other, and making Christmas cookies in the end.

Warning: very little swearing, a lot of physical contact (no smut), no specific gender for this fic!

A/N: Okay first time writing a one shot.. If this ends up bad, or that you guys don’t like my writing style i’ll probably go back to just prompt writing, which after writing this.. i’ll most likely not have the motivation to write a new one right away anyways. It took forever for me to even think of something to write. I don’t think i like this myself, but Enjoy and please give feedback/ask me for anything you’d want to see me write!

It was early in the morning and your alarm had just woken you up. Christmas was around the corner and recently you and your boyfriend Negan had been doing many Christmas activities together. He stayed the night last night after you watched a movie together. You had a plan of another Christmas activity but it required you to go out, and you didn’t feel like it.

Negan was still asleep next to you, he doesn’t wake up from an alarm so you have the opportunity to admire him. His soft expression when he’s asleep, his sunken in dimples that are unintentional, and somewhat hidden by his beard, his salt and pepper beard making him just that much more handsome, his slick back hair that is fluffier when he sleeps, he looks perfect under the morning light. You didn’t want to take your eyes off him. Him being yours doesn’t make sense, although he reassures you everyday that he wants you.

You forced yourself off the bed, careful to not wake him up. You began to get ready, a shower, new clothes, and making breakfast. You were making eggs and was going to wake up Negan when they were ready. As you were standing in front of the stove cooking, you hadn’t heard him until he wrapped his arms around your waist and his head found its way to the crook of your neck. Faint kisses were felt from where his face hid.

“Look who’s finally up.” You spoke with a smile on your face, enjoying his now woken presence and making sure to still watch over the food. His hands slowly rubbed over your waist and he looked down at the food, resting his chin on your shoulder now.

“Morning.” Negan said in his morning voice, you love when he sounded like this. Both of you having a smile on your face just from the mere contact of eachother. Having to break away from his embrace to put the food on two separate plates, although once you sat down the food onto the plate, and the utensil down in the sink, he came over and picked you up by your waist, which then had you letting out a gasp and swatting at his arm while laughing. “What’s the magic words!” He said with the widest smile he could possibly have, holding onto your waist as best as possible to make sure you wouldn’t actually get hurt, your squirming not helping his grip. Laughter filling the air from both ends.

“I love you?” You answered back in between laughs, as you looked over your shoulder at him. His smile increasing when you said it, he then set you down on the ground but didn’t let go of your waist. He held you close while peppering your neck with kisses. You loved how much physical affection he gave, it was a spotlight everyday with him.

“I love you so much more.” He spoke in between the kisses to your neck, which had gotten closer to your jawline. He had to one up you every time you said those three little words. If you didn’t know better you’d say it was his favorite thing to do. You flip around in his embrace so you’re facing him, his hands finding their way to the sides of your waist yet again. Bringing your forehead against his as your arms wrapped over his shoulders. “God, you couldn’t get more beautiful.. could you?” He spoke in a tone just above a whisper, tracing his hands lightly over your waist. The food you made almost completely discarded because of each other. His words causing such a nice feeling in your heart that made your cheeks warm. If it weren’t for him holding you, your knees would be weak.

You lean in for a kiss, which he had returned. The kiss was slow, but passionately gentle, this man was perfect. You could never get enough of him, he was so special in every way. Pulling away from the kiss to finally answer, but getting distracted by his beautiful brown eyes looking into your own eyes with such care and love. “I could say the same to you.. you couldn’t get more handsome.” You spoke with a huff of a laugh after it when he kissed your nose. “You’re already too pretty as is.” You continued as he peppered more kisses, onto your cheeks, nose, forehead, soft laughter escaping from his beard tickling your face, before his lips finally closed in on yours once again. You couldn’t automatically kiss him back as you were smiling. Although, not a very long kiss anyways as he pulled away to just admire you. Your smile is so wide when you’re around him that your cheeks always hurt.

Grabbing his hand to finally grab the previously discarded food. Holding his hand the entire way to the dining table. You had sat next to each other with him on your left, his hand still clasped with yours, which had made it hard for him to eat since he wasn’t a lefty. You spoke about whatever, small talks and other plans for Christmas as you ate. You could never get used to how magical this man was, the way his voice sounds, his eyes that always knew the right way to look at you to make you fall in love with him all over again, his embrace anytime he held your hand, or waist, or pulled you into a hug. He went out of his way to admire you in every way he possibly could.

He stood up, placing a kiss on your cheek and letting your hands fall from each other’s constraint. “You always make the best breakfast.” He says before grabbing your also empty plate and bringing it to the kitchen sink, rinsing it off and setting it down. You couldn’t help but admire him yet again. His eyes looked back to find you staring, which caused him to laugh. “You’re staring Darlin’.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, returning the admiration in his look, like the way you looked at him.

Your cheeks flush over and you lean back in your chair. “I can’t help it.. I have the best boyfriend.” This caused his dimples to sink in more, you love his dimples. You stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever, until he pushed himself off the counter and walked over to where you sat in the chair, putting his arms around your shoulders. Your hands automatically moved to hold his forearms. He kissed your head before letting his cheek rest against the side of your head. You couldn’t help but be in awe anytime this man showed you the slightest amount of attention. “Hey Negan?” You spoke up, slightly turning to look at his face, which he had returned by looking at you as well.

“Yesss?” He drew out his word, smiling happily to himself. You knew how much Christmas meant to him, it was one of his favorite holidays. You know he likes tradition and you don’t want him to get upset that you don't want to do the plan today.

You decided it would be best to just get it out there. “I don’t feel like going out.. Can we just stay in today?” You watched his reaction closely, but surprisingly he didn't look upset. He did however close his eyes and let out a sigh. His grip around your shoulders tightened and he brought you closer to him.

“One of those days, doll?” He asked and kissed your head, you nodded as a response. You could tell he cared about you, since he automatically began to place kiss after kiss onto your head, his arms squeezing around you. He wasn't the best with words so he showed his love with physical love. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek and looked into your eyes again.

“No, I’m sorry.. I know how much you love Christmas traditions.” You placed your hand on his cheek, and slowly caressed it. “I know you had a plan for today..” Whispering out your words and looking into his eyes with a sad, soft expression. He leaned in giving a small kiss, almost to shush you. You felt guilty, but why not do something productive while staying at home. “I know we planned this for when it's closer to Christmas.. But what if we made cookies today?” You smiled at him, which he reluctantly returned. God his dimples.

He seemed happy as soon as you offered, he wanted to jump up and do it right now, but it was way too early. “Of course!” His voice full of excitement, he really does love Christmas, “I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re still up to do something while we’re home!” He kissed your cheek, getting a laugh out of you.

The day was spent like most days, You both didn’t have to work though, since you both were gratefully given time off for the holidays. Most of today was spent relaxing, and having a little fun with each other by playing games, board games and online games. You were a video game couple for sure. By the time you had gotten bored of the game you were playing it was around dinner time, which is obviously before baking.

You got up from your spot on the couch, or gaming lounge as you call it, to get Negan to help with dinner. Spaghetti, your favorite. He made the sauce and you made the noodles, always the same arrangement. Both of you were cheesy when it came to spaghetti and did the arm link when taking your first bite. He would always tease you when you get sauce on your face, because for some reason, even when you’re careful, you’ve always been a messy eater. The same as breakfast, Negan got up to put both plates, and utensils in the sink.

“You ready for cookies?” Negan asks with a bright smile. Walking over to grab both your hands too lead you to the kitchen. He always gets so excited about baking, but it just makes his personality more attractive. “You get to choose the kind this time. Chocolate chip, or actual Christmas cookies?” His hands found their way to your waist as you both stood in the kitchen once again.

“I think I'm in the mood for..” you paused to think for a few minutes. “Actual Christmas cookies!” You returned the smile, placing a kiss on his cheek. Once confirmed he rushed into the pantry to get ahold of the items to bake. Setting them down on the countertop. You had taken out your phone and opened google. “I’ll get the recipe.” You typed up the recipe and kept it open to bake.

Setting your phone on the countertop near the baking ingredients, you went to grab the bowls, spoons, and other items for baking. Negan started reading off the ingredients and you had made sure that you had it all. Once you knew that you were all set you started. You put in the dry ingredients while Negan had his own bowl for the wet ingredients. You looked over at him, he had messy hands and a look of concentration on his face, your heart fluttered just from the sight of him. He’s so handsome doing the most simple tasks, how did you get so lucky. You were admiring him, and accidentally leaned onto the counter which led to you knocking over the flour bag onto yourself. Your clothes now all flour-y looking down with a sigh. Negan saw and he started laughing, getting distracted from baking. His laughter filled the room, but you weren’t complaining. You picked up the bag and threw some at him. He stopped laughing for a few seconds until you looked at each other, causing you both to laugh.

“You little asshole!” He said in between laughs. He then ran over to you, causing you to run away. The island counter makes it easy to run around in circles without being caught. You both had a devilish grin while running, he bolted for you and you tried to run, but he grabbed your waist and brought you into the air. “Got you!” His voice full of excitement, as he sat you down onto the counter he looked at you with his hands on your thighs. His beautiful brown eyes connecting with yours. His expression is full of love. You leaned in and gave him a kiss, the same slow but passionate kiss that you both seemed to love. He didn’t refuse and kissed you back.

The kiss lasted a few moments before you pulled away. “Okay as much as i love kissing you.. we have to finish the cookies.” You fake pouted with your hand on his cheek. He kissed your cheek one last time before helping you off the island counter and over to the discarded baking stuff. Your clothes, and now his clothes covered in flour, which will be a pain for when you have to wash them, but the memory is worth it. He finished his mix first and you finished yours shortly after. He grabbed your waist from behind like usual as you put the wet and dry ingredients together. You leaned back into him and his hands made small shapes on your waist. You kissed his cheek before returning back to the unfinished cookies. He took a few steps away and it caused you to look back over at him. He quickly found what he was looking for, baking trays, and set it down.

Almost as soon as you finished mixing he grabbed the bowl with the dough, and the flour, racing away from you. You followed him into the dining room which he had set down the stuff and was about to put some flour on the table so we could roll the dough. Negan was getting ready to sift the flour while you went to grab the other needed stuff, the rolling pin, cookie cutters, and the baking tray from earlier. Once you returned He was already spreading the flour around, and he looked up at you with a wide smile. “You’re so beautiful.” He spoke to you, you smiled wide in return.

“You’re so handsome.” Complimenting him back as you set down the stuff near the other end of the table, so it doesn’t get too messy. “Do we plan on decorating them after we bake them?” You look down at the flour, which was slowly disappearing as Negan had put the dough on the table and started to roll it flat.

He looked concentrated, until he looked up at you. “hmm.. I know we still have some time before Christmas and we know how fast we’ll probably go through them..” He looked back down to finish rolling the dough. “We probably could, just if we really wanted to decorate them for Christmas day.. probably don’t go all out for them.” You could tell he was thinking hard about it, but more than likely you won’t decorate them at all and just grab them on the go. As he finally had the dough laid flat, you grabbed the cookies cutters and set them next to it.

Negan and you were cutting the cookies with the cookie cutters. Reindeer, mittens, snowflakes, bells, Christmas presents, angels, and gingerbread men, were all the shapes that you had. You both had favorite cookie cutters, Negan seemed to favorite the gingerbread men, and you favorited the reindeer. This whole process was relatively simple and quiet, just enjoying the tradition with each other. There were times when you’d just look at each other with wide smiles while doing it.

Negan had left for a few minutes, saying he wanted to find something. Obviously you didn’t know what, he wouldn’t tell you either, so you stayed by the Christmas cookies, that had been put on the tray ready for the oven. When Negan finally returned, you weren’t looking at him. It gave him the opportunity to scare you, which no doubt he took. Gently grabbing your shoulders and like his plan, you jumped. Swatting his arm when you turned to face him. You didn’t know what it was he went to grab until he lifted his hand over the both of you with a mistletoe in his hand. “We haven’t kissed in so long.” He extended the word ‘so’ like you hadn’t kissed in years, although you kissed today.

“You don’t need to bring out the mistletoe when you want to kiss.” You sighed, but puts your hands on his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. His hands held your waist and he pulled your close. The kiss lasted a minute or so until you pulled away. “Just ask for a kiss next time you goof.” You smiled, so he smiled back.

“Can we kiss again?” He licked his lips and when you shook your head he fake pouted, and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why the fuck not? you said ask.” He didn’t sound mad, he seemed more upset.

You softly laughed at his facial expressions and caressed his cheek. “I’ll give you all the kisses you want… as soon as the cookies are in the oven.” He had rolled his eyes at your statement and quickly turned away to grab the trays and put it in the oven. He opened the oven and slid the trays into it, and after he closed it he put on a timer. He eagerly made his way back over to you and pulled you close.

“How about nowwwww?” He gave you puppy dog eyes, which made you adore him just that much more. You leaned up and kissed him again. He quickly grabbed your waist and pulled you against him. Your arms found their way around his neck. You and Negan both enjoy this. For once he’s the one to pull away. “Your lips are an addiction.” He bit his lip looking at yours yet again.

You looked down and back up with a smile on your face. “Yeah? Then you’re my little addict.” You kissed his cheek, and you could faintly see the blush creep onto his face. You’re usually the one who gets embarrassed or flustered, but when Negan does it makes you sure, that you’re absolutely in love. “I’m glad I can spend my holiday with you, and i’m even more glad that you’re mine.” You spoke with you heart.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re in my life, where i can hold you, kiss you, and love you.” He spoke back and pulled you into a hug. You both just stayed there together in the hug, a smile on both your faces. Losing track about how much time is actually wasted, until the oven timer starts to go off. Causing a sigh from both of you. “I’m cuddling you again tonight.” He spoke while leaving your embrace.

You followed anyways, “I’m okay with that.” You smiled and watched him slide on a glove to take the trays out, making sure they’re fully cooked as he then set them on the top of the oven. “They smell so good..” You smelled the air, you loved the way Christmas cookies smelled.

He looked over at you with a smile. “If you were a Christmas cookie, I don't think I'd be able to eat you. You’d be too pretty.” Negan spoke up, a blush settling on your face. He came over and kissed your cheek. “You’re so easy to make blush, and so pretty when you do.”

You swat his arm. “You’re a jerk!” You laughed, Negan laughing as well. “Good thing I'm not a Cookie then. I’d feel lonely if I never got ate.” You said while putting your hand on the side of his neck, pulling him a little closer.

“I mean.. if you feel lonely now I can still eat you.” He winked, and you knew exactly what he meant. Your jaw opened which made Negan laugh at your reaction. “C’mon you should know me by now!” He spoke in between laughs, your jaw still hung open and you shook your head.

“Negan, as nice as that sounds-“ You closely watched his reaction to the first part of the sentence, his eyebrows rose and a smirk was now present. “No, not today.” You shrugged, which caused Negan to roll his eyes. You just smiled at his reaction, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip as he thought of something.

“So tomorrow?” He smiled down and pulled you closer.

“I hate you.” You rolled your eyes with a smile of your own.

(Tags: @pinchofhoney )

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan x female reader #negan x male reader #negan x reader #the walking dead negan #twd negan #jdm #jdmorgan #negan x you

137 notes · View notes

jongseongsnudes · 1 year

Text

twelve.

warning; 😲 1k words.

masterlist.

“oh my god- my head.”

you don’t know what you were expecting to wake up to other than a near-death headache after drowning yourself in alcohol last night.

but despite that... you remembered jake sim.

you vaguely remembered running into him at the club, then sharing a cab home... then nothing. and now you’re here, in bed and in yesterday night’s clothes.

then where was the man?

the apartment was evidently empty once you managed your way out, the silence and lack of life proving your assumption. but a certain food smell immediately catches your full attention, one you don’t usually have but certainly always make for your best friend.

hang over soup.

and to your surprise, there sat a bowl of soup on the dining table along with a note.

- you need it.

you can’t help but smile at the three short words, slightly touched by the man’s actions. not only had he taken you home safely but also prepared this for you. you wanted to thank him but being the awkward person that you were, decided to return the favour instead.

to do what you did best, bake.

four hours later and you’re still in the kitchen, hands busily mixing the flour while your eyes stayed focused on the recipe on your phone. the second recipe you’ve looked up actually, after the first batch had failed miserably.

“yeah... maybe i’m not the best at this.”

flour, milk, egg, sugar, salt... soy sauce. everything you had pulled out were scattered across the countertop, like a tornado had ripped right through your kitchen. only it was all your doing and you had no idea what was going on or how it even happened.

“what happened in here?”

the sudden voice startles you, causing the poor bowl in your hands to fall and meet with its fate on the ground. along with a lot of other things.

“oh- jake you’re home,” you’re a mumbling mess at the sight of the man, who looked extra good today you might add, “don’t mind me. i’ll get it cleaned up soon.”

you crouch down to gather the flour on the floor, only to have some of blow up to your face. of course it would and in front of jake sim too.

such great luck you have.

a low scoff rings through the kitchen as your roommate places his jacket onto the table before crouching down to the ground. he helps you with ease, gathering most of the flour back into the bowl while you’re left staring at him quietly like some lunatic. extra points for currently looking like one too.

he leaves you be without another word, leaving you to finally gather yourself but not even a minute later and he reappears at the entrance. the man had changed into more comfortable clothing, a white tee and some sweatpants.

simple but enough to take your breath away. like every other time.

it was a weird sight, especially after not seeing your roommate at home for so long.

“wh- what are you doing?”

“cleaning?” he says nonchalantly, tone full of sarcasm as he heads over to the sink, “what else do you think i’m doing?”

“oh- wait- no jake it’s fine!” you rush over and attempt to stop the man from washing the contents inside but boy was he persistent, “no no! jake let me-”

he finally turns to look down at you, annoyance written across his face like you had done something wrong. if you were considered stubborn, well jake sim wasn’t all that far behind you.

“okay i’ll... i’ll clean the over there then. thanks.”

you busy yourself with collecting trash for a while, the two of you doing your own tasks in complete silence. but it’s not like you have anything to say to him anyway, especially not when he gave you that look. like you were the most annoying person on earth.

and to be fair, you think you’re currently the most annoying person on earth too.

“thanks for helping me,” you clear your throat, trying to sound as normal as possible as you watch the boy dry his hands, “and... for the soup. i wanted to bake something as a thank you but... well you can probably guess how that turned out.”

“seems like you’re trying to kill me with how burnt those brownies look.”

“hey! i worked really hard to bake those for you.”

“right,” his gaze meets yours across the kitchen, a smile instantly forming on his face to the sight of you, “your face is a mess.”

though his voice was still evidently distant, his laughter that follows causes your heart to pick up. you’ve missed that laughter, you’ve missed him.

instead of going back to his room like you had expected him to do, jake makes his way over to you, the man reaching for a napkin from the countertop. you instinctively step back as he comes closer but with jake’s long legs, the man caught up before you could even get any further.

“jake-”

he wipes away at your cheeks, removing the flour, batter, frosting and whatever else was there on your face. he’s so gentle with you, like he was afraid he’d hurt you. but despite the physical contact, its his eyes that are making you tense, the way they’re so focused on you.

and only you.

there’s an explosion of emotions inside your chest to the sight of your roommate up close. you feel nervous, fidgety all over but it’s not like what you used to feel in front of him from weeks ago but rather a different type of nervousness.

one you can’t seem to explain.

“want to start over?”

gulp.

end.

taglist; @i-dalso @wony6ung @jeonjungkookkk @j4yluvr @soobsbby @astra-line @drunkanddazedalways @shine-your-light @02zprotector @wonz4u @sonmil @byunhoebaek @artgukkx @nowrosesaredead @lhsng @abdiitcryy @y4wnjunz @uuvjungwon @dehydratedami @enhasengene @enhacolor @my5colors @kyutiepeachy @miiiwaa @miixsh @vantxx95 @1115phile @outrologist @9900z @axartia @yuakagi @bunhoons @3nh4luvr @duckieanon @manaswi-madhusudan @skylaryoung2002 @lix-freckle3 @uuwonnie @emoworu @kyoyangwon @sunshine-skz @paolennenicole @cherryblushtzy @carateum1 @ahnneyong @hhganyu @duolingofanaccount @hseungi @omgjwon @jays-blue @jaykedpotato @gobighee @jiawji @taekbokki @wonwon-ie @mavlogist@thedemonundernikisbed @rosie-is-everywhere @kuleo26 @ii4enha-jwn @thejjrl @taytaymuse @cococake @sunooslover @inlovewsimjaeyun @muffinminnie @sashamifasolla @yoonjin96 @choibeomgogi @flower-lise @princesjy @she-is-dreaming @n-wjns @simksl @love-enhaa @mimikittysblog @letapostropheesgo @f0rlov3rs

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

362 notes · View notes

fag4dykestobin · 8 months

Text

i kind of sat down and thought about steve and robin cooking together, and then i entered a fugue state and came out of it with a little over 1.7k words written about them being domestic besties (domesties?). so um. enjoy :)

Robin has destroyed one of her mom’s pans again, so she’s been banished to Steve’s house.

Well, okay, let’s back up.

Robin, waking up and feeling especially productive, had taken it upon herself to make some scrambled eggs. Nice and simple, right? So she had grabbed the first spatula and pan she could find, and… scrambled those eggs! She even remembered the salt and pepper! Unfortunately, as Robin had remembered after she oh-so-lovingly scraped off the nonstick coating, metal utensils and nonstick pans didn’t really get along. Oops. Panicking, she had scraped her mess into the trash and called Steve to pick her up. So, really, she had banished herself, preemptively.

“How the hell did you even do this much damage?” Steve asks, holding up the pan. The look of befuddlement on his face is picture perfect; you could teach children how to identify emotions with that face. Robin would pinch his cheek if she wasn’t so embarrassed.

“I don’t know! I just tried to make some eggs!”

“Rob, there’s like, a solid cube of—”

“A cube is a 3D object, dingus.”

“This is a 3D object!”

“Not in that way! It’s not a cube! You mean a square!”

Steve throws up his hands, one of them brandishing the pan and waving it around. “Fine! There’s a solid square…” Steve gives Robin a look. She nods her head at him in acquiescence. “... Of coating rubbed off of this thing. Why were you punishing your eggs like that?”

Robin leans back on the counter she’s been sitting on, legs swinging. Her heel hits the cabinet once, and Steve’s eye twitches, but he says nothing. Because he loves her. But she tries to avoid doing it again, for his sake. “I had to get that yolk distributed! I was working fast, Evie, the burner was on and I wanted it evenly mixed—!”

“So why didn’t you mix it in a bowl before that?!” Steve looks so stressed. It's kind of funny, given how unimportant the subject matter is. Robin suppresses a grin.

“I forgot! I was groggy!”

Steve groans, setting the ruined pan down and rubbing a hand over his face. “... When we move in together,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at Robin, “I am keeping my metal utensils in a locked safe.”

The warm, fuzzy feeling that always appears when Robin is reminded of their future together, their permanence in each other’s lives, it fizzes and pops in her chest like a sparkler. It’s still such a comforting feeling, even after all these months.

It doesn’t stop her from antagonizing him a little. “Like I don’t know what combination you’ll set it to,” she scoffs. “I could just break in. To spite you.”

Steve sits with that for a moment. “You’re breaking my heart, Robbie, you know that? You break my heart.” Not a real comeback. She’s won their battle of the bits, this time around.

“Well, anyway,” Steve continues, “I am really hoping you didn’t eat those eggs after seasoning them with metal filings.”

“It wasn’t— I don’t think the coating is metal. I don’t know what it is, actually, but I don’t think it falls under metal filings.”

Steve hmms. “Well, it’s not, like, plastic, right? Or silicone? That would just melt.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Well, it can’t be metal, because it loses a fight with metal spatulas.”

Steve thinks for a second. “Is… God, I mean, I guess there are other, other uh… what’s the word? For, like, not from plants?” Robin scrunches her brow in thought. “Synthetic? Inorganic?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yeah, both of those work. There’s probably things that aren’t plastic or metal that can be used to cook with, but it feels weird. That there’s another category out there.”

Robin nods in agreement, and they sit in companionable silence for a moment, contemplating on the nature of cookware.

“Anyway, no, I still haven’t eaten.”

Steve curses, gets up from leaning on his kitchen island, and steps over to the cabinets where he keeps his pots and pans. “Yes, God, okay, let me feed you. Still want eggs?”

“You know it!” Robin says, and Steve gets to cooking, bustling around the kitchen with practiced motions. It’s nice to watch him cook. He gets very focused, in a way that doesn’t usually come naturally to him. Steve doesn’t usually like talking while he’s cooking, but he hums bits of songs, bobs his head to the beat.

In no time at all he has a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Robin, and she hops off the counter to sit at a stool at the kitchen island. She grabs the plate from Steve and smacks a wet kiss on his cheek, making him roll his eyes with a smile and subtly wipe her spit off.

Steve takes a seat across from her, and she notices that he doesn’t have anything. Did he already eat? “Did you already eat?” Robin asks.

Steve blinks. “Oh. No, I forgot.” He has a tendency to do that; when he cooks for someone, he can get so caught up in it that he forgets to make some for himself, and is left to scramble afterwards. “I’ll make myself some eggs after you’re done.”

An idea comes to mind. An attempt at redemption, maybe. “Let me?” Robin asks.

“And let you ruin my pans? No thanks.”

A flash of genuine hurt passes through Robin, and she lets it show on her face in the form of a pout. The comment isn’t unfounded, but�� “No, please! I know what I did wrong, I’ll do better this time. I’m not sleepy anymore, either.” She just wants to take care of Steve like he takes care of her. She wants to feed him eggs, goddamnit! When was the last time anyone fed him eggs? Actually, if she thinks about that one, she’ll get sad, so she stops thinking about it.

Steve can obviously see her earnestness, and he softens. And rolls his eyes. But that’s just him being Steve, so Robin loves it. “Whatever you want, Birdie. Just don’t burn them. Oh, and use garlic powder.”

So Robin practically inhales the rest of her eggs and toast (very tasty, as always) and gets to work. Steve sits at his stool at the island, trying and failing not to watch Robin like a hawk as she bumbles around his kitchen (“That’s not enough garlic powder, Rob, put some more in there, it won’t bite!” and “Use the small pan on the top shelf— no, the other small pan. No, the other—”), but she does eventually get a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. Not as good looking as the one Steve presented her, but it smelled good, and didn’t have weird inorganic pan flecks in them. Steve gives her a sloppy kiss on her cheek this time, over-exaggerating and putting way too much saliva in it, seriously, was he a dog or something? Robin BLECH’d and rubbed at her cheek, but he looked happy at his plate of food, so. Overall success, even if sacrifices had to be made.

Robin leaned on the island on her elbows, face a foot away from Steve’s as he picked up a forkful of egg. He side-eyed her.

“Do you… want some…?”

Robin waved a hand at him. “No, dingus. Eat it! Do you like it?”

“Okay, okay!” Steve rolled his eyes and ate his forkful. Robin stared at him as he chewed, looking out for emotions such as delight and wonder, but also disgust and revulsion.

She found nothing. Steve looked normal. He ate another forkful, eyeing her.

“So?” Robin prods.

“They’re eggs?” Steve says, mouth still half full.

“Swallow!” Steve rolls his eyes and does as she asks. “Nothing else? They’re just eggs?”

Steve nods, shrugging a little. Robin feels a little let-down. The first time Steve had made her eggs, it was life-changing. He put heavy cream in them. Robin doesn’t think her parents had ever bought heavy cream in their lives.

Robin guesses that it makes sense, though. This is just how he makes eggs, duh. Still, it makes her feel kind of bad, that she couldn’t give Steve the same feeling he gave her.

Steve seems to sense her inner turmoil. “They’re— it’s good, though! You did a good job. I do like it.” He seems kind of… embarrassed, but grateful. “You didn’t have to make them for me. Thanks.”

Robin bumps his shoulder with her own, and then retreats to her seat, allowing him a bit more personal space. But not too much! She kicks at his shins, and he kicks back, a smile on his face.

Cleanup is easy as Steve washes the dishes and Robin dries. It’s the small, domestic things, like this, that make her so excited to eventually live together. It’s so easy and companionable, full of chatter about band practice and Dustin’s latest science experiment. She can’t wait to graduate.

After the dishes, though, they’re both at the kitchen island again, silently staring at the pan Robin had ruined at her house earlier.

“... It seems like a waste to throw away,” Robin complains.

“I know, right? But it’s, like, useless now.”

Robin hums. “I mean, no, it’s still like… metal. I feel like we should be melting it down.”

Steve stares at her. “In what world would it be more useful melted down?”

Robin squawks, indignant at her idea being challenged. “You know what I mean!”

“No I don’t! Do you just want a, a… what’s the word? A bar of metal.”

“Ingot.”

“Do you just want an ingot hanging out on our mantelpiece?!”

“Well, I didn’t before, but now I do!”

They look at each other for only a moment before dissolving into simultaneous giggles, shared joy crackling and leaping between them.

Steve settles down first. Still grinning, he turns to put the pan at the very top of a relatively bare cupboard. “Fine, we’ll just… keep this to be melted down later.”

Robin can’t do anything to stop the twin grin on her face, not that she would ever want to. “I love you, Evie.” The words come easy, and the delight and surprise on Steve’s face is as wonderful as always. He pulls her into a hug.

“I love you too, Rob.”

#this is my first time writing them and i think i have a good idea of them but. well. all first times doing anything can end up rough #i am largely happy with this though i just love these two. da besties #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #stranger things #quincy.txt #i will post this to ao3... tomorrow....... i stayed up way too late to write all of this but i was on a roll #oh and yeah i didn't alternate steve's pronouns here and that is mainly becuase i have a Timeline in mind for her gender journey #and he is not here yet. i imagine this to be in like november. a few months after starcourt but before s4 #took so much effort not to alternate the pronouns though sorry stevie i love you bbg you are always bigender don't worry #my fics

156 notes · View notes

oliversrarebooks · 5 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 32: Oliver's New Life

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control

Oliver woke up slowly.

He was somewhere comfortable, extremely so, and he was deeply content to curl up on his side and wrap himself in silk sheets, dipping in and out of sleep. He spent a long time in that half-awake, dreamy state before finally waking up fully.

Oliver found himself in the middle of a huge, cloud-soft bed, surrounded by pillows and wrapped in fine sheets and blankets. Indirect sunlight was streaming through the cracks in the curtains, allowing him to see just enough of the room to remember where he was.

Alexander's home. His bedroom, in Alexander's home.

The first day with his new Master.

Instinctively, his hand flew to his neck and felt around. There were no scars, no bandages, no soreness. Master hadn't taken his blood yet, and he felt an odd swirl of relief and disappointment. He had said that he would give Oliver time to settle, so it was still coming, no doubt. But the vague notion that perhaps his blood wasn't pleasing to Master...

But no, that thought was quelled as soon as it troubled him. His Master wanted him. Oliver had felt it so clearly, and even now the thought filled him with comfort. He was wanted here.

With his mind calmed, he yawned and stretched, enjoying the comfortable bedding. He'd slept like a log, and from the ancient looking pendulum clock on the wall, he could see that it was now 3pm. He'd slept most of the night and day away, which he probably needed after all that upheaval in his life.

That upheaval was over now that he was finally in his Master's home.

His stomach growled, an angry reminder that he hadn't really eaten anything since breakfast last night (he was still unsure what to call his meals now that he was mostly nocturnal, but that would have to do). Alexander did say he had free reign of the kitchen, so he'd best put that to good use.

First, though, he stood up and went to the window, pushing the curtains open to reveal a sunny afternoon, the sun only just dipping below the buildings. He squinted and flinched away from the light, realizing that it was the first sun he'd seen since he'd been abducted. He hadn't even realize how he'd missed the warmth of sunlight.

His room overlooked an ordinary city street, with pedestrians milling by on the tree-lined sidewalks. He recognized it as the most wealthy part of downtown, an area where he didn't usually have much cause to visit. It wasn't all that far from his bookshop, a leisurely twenty minute walk at most.

How strange to think that he'd lived so close to a vampire lord's manor all those years. How strange to think that his former life was so close and yet separated by so much. How strange to think that just a few weeks ago, he had no idea any of this world existed.

His Master had apparently not erased his memories, just as he'd said, because Oliver was having no trouble recalling his bookshop or his former life. Who could say what other alterations Master had made while he was under? He felt so much calmer and more contented than he had the day before, so surely it was for his benefit.

He turned from the window and padded down the stairs. The house was deathly quiet, and he assumed that the other occupant was not yet awake. When he arrived in the kitchen, he opened the window there to get some more sunlight, hoping that it wouldn't disturb Master too much -- he didn't know how sunlight might affect him, but he guessed it wasn't pleasant. For now, it helped the kitchen to feel more cheerful and human while Oliver assessed the food situation.

There was the basket of fruit on the counter that he'd noticed yesterday, as well as a loaf of bread beside -- a good start. The pantry was sparse, but held a few ordinary staples, flour and sugar and salt and potatoes and carrots, as well as some canned vegetables and beans. The largest bounty was in the ice box: eggs, milk, cheese, butter, some paper packets from the butcher's that he'd have to open and identify later, perhaps when it was time to make dinner.

There were also a few glass bottles of what was unmistakably blood. He shuddered involuntarily at the sight. They were labeled "Moonlight Farm, Fancy Grade A". So there were places dedicated to farming what he could only assume was human blood. It made perfect sense -- how else would Alexander have kept himself alive without a thrall? -- but it was still repulsive. He didn't want to think about those humans in the blood farms, no doubt utterly mind wiped and treated like cattle.

Maybe Joe was there, maybe the waitress who had been in the cell next to Emily's. They'd had their minds erased, after all, and had been sold at auction. He felt guilty that he was safe and comfortable in a well-appointed kitchen deciding what to cook, while other innocent humans had probably been turned into little more than mindless dairy cows, tossed into pens and used for their blood for the rest of their miserable lives. It obviously wasn't his fault, and there wasn't anything he could have reasonably done about it, but it was upsetting all the same. The only thing that had stood between him and their fate was some intangible quality of his blood.

He'd feel better about everything once he ate, he was sure.

Since late afternoon was apparently now his breakfast time, he pulled out eggs and cheese, located a frying pan, and began to make an omelette. Starving as he was, he used four eggs, and once he was done making them, used the pan to toast some of the bread. He couldn't find any jam, but butter would do fine. An apple and a glass of milk completed his generous breakfast. Master said he'd have any groceries he needed, and the way he'd been treated in the auction house cells made it clear that vampires preferred their humans to be well fed, so there was no reason to hold back on eating his fill.

As he washed the dishes in the sink, he reflected that he wasn't just eating for himself now, but also eating to feed his new master. A strange thought.

He was still wearing the dress he'd arrived in from the auction house, and as eager as he was to return to the library, that luxurious bathroom was calling for him. Exiting the kitchen, he spared a look towards the front door.

Unlike the auction house, there were no vampire guards here to stop him. Alexander was likely still asleep upstairs. But the thought of even trying the door repulsed him, filling him with sick dread. As if he wanted to betray his new Master by leaving without permission!

Oliver turned and headed up the stairs to his bedroom, looking in the wardrobe. As promised, there was an assortment of outfits there -- more than he had previously owned. There were various frocks with wide necks, but also button-down shirts and slacks, a few casual suits, and an expensive-looking lined wool coat paired with a cheerful red scarf. This, at least, served as proof that Master intended to take him out of the confines of the manor sometimes. The nearby drawers held pajamas and soft cotton underthings. Satisfied at the selection of clothing, he took a cotton robe and headed for the bathroom.

He was clean enough, since he'd been allowed regular bathing at the auction house and in Miss Lily's care, but a nice hot bath was just what he needed to wash away any remnants of anxiety. He turned on the hot water and dumped in a generous helping of floral-scented soap flakes, making the bathroom smell heavenly.

Sinking in the warm water up to his shoulders was like a dream. And he had nowhere to be. He could relax in the bath as long as he felt like. And once he had his fill of that, he could head down to the library and read to his heart's content.

He realized that the foreign feeling washing over him was relief.

He'd spent so much of his life anxious and afraid, quietly terrified of not living up to a father who was long since dead. He used all of his time trying to keep his beloved bookstore afloat, fretting about money and maintenance and pleasing every patron who walked through the door. Second guessing every decision, watching from afar as others found love and excitement.

And now none of that mattered, because he'd found his place, hadn't he? Or rather, his place had found him, and it was bringing up a deep, buried longing to be cared for that he didn't even realize he had. His Master would take care of him and quiet his mind, and all he had to do was offer up his loyalty and his blood. A small price to pay, wasn't it?

He made sure his neck was extra clean, and used some of the sweet-smelling lotion that had been left in a basket for him. He wanted to please.

He could do this. He could be enticing to his master. And he'd be rewarded.

Returning to his bedroom, he slipped on a soft flannel frock, choosing a garment that would keep his neck exposed with no hesitation. He then padded downstairs to enter the library and await his Master waking.

He'd barely gotten a chance to look at the library yesterday, and Oliver was stunned all over again at the amount of books. He decided to occupy himself just browsing the shelves, not picking any one book to read yet. There would no doubt be plenty of time, and for now, he was fascinated by the many different subjects on display.

There were shelves of ordinary fiction books, of course, albeit stocked with antique and rare editions of classics that would have filled Oliver with envy if he didn't have full access to them himself now. Near the shelves of books he recognized, there was another large section that he realized must consist of fiction written by vampires, the titles and authors all unknown to him. The preoccupation with blood above all other things was apparent just by reading the titles. Did the need for blood consume them so much? He supposed it must, if they were willing to pay such vast sums for thralls.

The section on vampire history that he had perused before was flanked by sections covering the histories of witches, werewolves, vampire hunters, faefolk, and a particularly extensive collection of books on merfolk. There was surprisingly little human history, and nothing more recent than the turn of the century. Vampires, perhaps, didn't concern themselves that much with human history.

He felt himself strangely drawn to a particular shelf further towards the back of the library. Half the books were bound in richly colored leather, embossed with gold and silver and embedded with jewels, and the other half were so tattered and worn that Oliver wouldn't dare try to pick them up. He flipped through one, and realized with surprise what they were. Spellbooks. Magic. And no reason to doubt now that it was real.

The sound of footsteps behind him startled him out of his reverie. "Hey. Evening."

He whipped around to see his Master there, hair and shirt disheveled, sleepy-eyed but looking at Oliver as though he were the only thing he had ever desired. A smile spread slowly across Alexander's face, and Oliver felt like his heart might stop.

Part 31 >> Masterlist >> Part 33

Role Reversal AU Part One

Next time, Oliver finally gets bitten.

Extras: Emily's Crayons || Fitz in the Snow || Fitz's Volunteer Part One

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

98 notes · View notes

faebaex · 11 months

Text

Piece of Cake!

Request:

Student Name: Máire "Mor" Cian

Gender: Female

Dorm: Diasomnia

Scenario: Growing up, she didn't learn how to cook - noblewomen were forbidden from the kitchen, her father insisted. But for her dorm fellows and those in her year (second), she wanted to break free of those old notions. Visiting the vice leader of Heartlabyul, with his help, she whipped up one lovely Victoria sponge to share with Diasomnia while managing a decent, uncomplicated but decadent fudge to parcel out to the other second-years...

-✨️ Anon (Had to try both my OCs, if you're up to it... Happy Valentine's!)

author note: sorry for the wait! this was a really cute concept, also sorry i don't know why Jade turned out so mean, he was just in a silly goofy mood today i guess. also also some accidental Trey, because i got a little carried away when setting the scene („• ֊ •„) your OC is really cute and i hope you enjoy!

characters: Trey Clover, second years, Diasomnia dorm x F!Reader (platonic or romantic, however you fancy)

“Oh… Not quite…”

You looked down at the mixing bowl, staring down at the powdery white mixture that filled the bowl. Looking back up at Trey, who was looking back at you with a kind but strained smile, you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Did I do something wrong…?”

“Ah well…” Trey’s smile falters only slightly, valiantly trying to keep a calm expression, “well you see, the next step would be to pour out the caster sugar but that’s… Icing sugar…” He gently explains and your face falls when you look down at the packet in your hand, clearly labelled ‘Icing Sugar’. You groan in frustration, feeling like an utter fool for making such a silly mistake, and Trey immediately jumps to console you, a heavy hand falling on your shoulder and he gives you a good natured shake. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I made all sorts of mistakes when I started baking.” You look up at him, a forlorn expression on your face at his placating, not believing him one bit. Trey gives you another pat on the shoulder before beginning to guide you more closely through the steps, clearly now aware that you require his undivided attention.

Despite that, you make several more mistakes before you are done with your creations. There is a particular incident with the eggs which results in time wasted picking eggshell out of the mixture, and Trey has to make a mad dash across the kitchen at one point to grab the salt out of your hand, which you had somehow mistaken for baking powder. But regardless of your near constant kitchen mishaps, your and Trey’s combined efforts result in a fluffy Victoria sponge and a simple, yet tasty looking batch of fudge. Trey gives you a smile that makes his eyes wrinkle at the corners as he grabs the icing sugar, guiding your hands to help you sieve the icing sugar over the top of the Victoria sponge as a finishing touch. “Now this is what we use the icing sugar for.” Trey remarks with a chuckle, taking a step back to admire the pieces that you had baked together, “you did great!” He assures, a kind smile on his face as he watches you beam at your creations. You felt a surge of pride run through you as the sight of your baking, feeling that your first time in a kitchen had gone well, despite its… Challenges. Riding on your high, you even considered applying for the next Master Chef program next time applications opened.

“Thank you so much for your help, Trey!” You beamed at him as he began packing away your creations into boxes for you to take back to your dorm with you. He gave you a light smile, folding the boxes closed securely. “Not at all. You’re welcome in the Heartslabyul kitchen whenever you want to do a spot of baking again. I heard Lilia has a very… Curious taste in ingredients, so it would probably best you didn’t get influenced by… That.” He gives you an awkward smile, packing your baking boxes into a paper bag for you to carry home. You say your goodbyes and you leave the Heartslabyul dorm, a warm feeling in your heart as you head back to your dorm, preparing to hand out your homemade treats to your classmates the next day…

Riddle Rosehearts

Surprised that you are gifting him some fudge! Sure, he knew you were in the Heartslabyul kitchen with Trey for a long time yesterday afternoon, but he never expected to receive anything out of it.

Thinks it is just as a courtesy because he let you use his dorm’s kitchen, and will blush if you tell him that you made some fudge specifically for him.

He will compliment how it looks and smells and tell you he looks forward to eating it later.

It will be his tea time snack later that day!

Ruggie Bucchi

Free food? Say no more!

Ruggie is usually suspicious when people try to give him something for free, but you look so earnest and proud of yourself when you try to hand it over to him, it would be rude to say no, riiiight?

If he knows you don’t have much experience in the kitchen, he’ll cheekily offer to be your exclusive taste tester, with the low low fee of a portion of the food you cook/bake.

He’s super happy about receiving it though and will probably devour it right there and then in front of you.

He will compliment the taste and sneakily suggest that you try your hand at making doughnuts next time.

Azul Ashengrotto

Ngl this is literally his worst nightmare.

He does not have the extra calories available for this surprise.

Plus it goes entirely against his creed to accept something from someone and potentially leave himself open for return favours later on.

So initially, he will try to refuse it.

Eventually, and very, very reluctantly, he will accept it. His customer service smile has all but crumbled at this point.

He will give you a free drink coupon for the Lounge as a trade off (nothing over 10 thaumarks of course) and then he will excuse himself.

The fudge probably sits on his desk untouched in the VIP room or Floyd snags it and eats it.

Spends way too much time ruminating over why you’d give him that so is probably glad if Floyd eats it tbh.

Jade Leech

Well, aren’t you an amusing one?

He will happily accept your gift, even if his smile seems a little ingenuine.

He won’t eat the fudge in front of you, preferring not to be observed by you when he tries the fudge.

But he will take the opportunity to gather intel talk to you about baking and delve more into your background.

What a lovely info gathering opportunity you have offered him, so kind of you.

If Jade finds out about your noble ties, don’t be surprised if the fish mafia try to blackmail you one day about telling your father about your kitchen activities.

However, the next day Jade will tell you how delightful your fudge tasted, and his smile seems more genuine than it did before.

Floyd Leech

Is already draping himself all over you before you can even offer him the fudge.

Delighted that you made him a little gift!

He literally will not wait for you to finish talking before he’s ripping into the packaging and taking a big ol’ chomp out of the fudge.

Gives you a fudge-caked smile too as he chews away like a carnivore.

Will compliment the fudge in his own weird way, like saying how good it feels to sink his teeth into it, or something.

He’s like a feral animal, now that you’ve given him food once he’s probably going to bother you every time he sees you. Good luck.

Kalim Al Asim

He’s so happy you thought of him but also so so sad because he can’t eat it!

But he doesn’t want to make you sad so he still accepts it but his smile does drop a little because he’s sad he can’t try it.

He will settle for sniffing it really enthusiastically because he feels like that’s a totally normal way to appreciate your baking.

He’s definitely going to try to use this as an excuse to throw a party with you as the guest of honour. Then you can both eat lots of food together!

He will finally let you go free once you convince him that you already have other plans that day.

Jamil Viper

Really surprised that you are giving him something, as he’s usually trying to fly under the radar.

He seems to appreciate it though, and will accept it without much fuss.

He’s a bit of an avid cook himself, so he’ll likely analyse the flavour in his head but keep his thoughts to himself.

He’ll feel a bit smug later that day when Kalim hands over the fudge you gave him, now he has two of your little gifts.

May slyly set some extra sweet aside for you that he’s made for Kalim and leave them for you without a note, but you could probably guess who they were from if you thought about it hard enough.

Silver

A welcome surprise for him to wake up to!

He’ll give you a gentle smile when he wakes up from one of his accidental nap to find you sitting beside him with a package full of treats.

He will happily eat it, savouring anything that hasn’t been made by his father.

He will compliment your baking, telling you how you did such a good job.

As you are both from Diasomnia, it’s likely he knows something about your circumstances.

He’s very curious when you tell him jokingly to keep the fudge a secret from the rest of the Diasomnia dorm, as you have a surprise for them later on. He will promise to keep it a secret though.

You hurry back to your dorm after your club activities, eager to set out the surprise cake for your dormmates. You had already sent Lilia on a mission to find Malleus and bring him back to the dorm, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he kindly went off to fulfil your request. You placed your bags haphazardly on your bed with a promise to tidy them later as you quickly grabbed the cake box and rushed out of your room, wanting to get to the dorm lounge before any of the others got there. Unfortunately, Silver and Sebek were already waiting in the lounge, the latter lamenting his inability to find Malleus and walk him back to the dorm. You placed the cake box discreetly on the lounge table, giving Silver a knowing smile as you waited for the arrival of Malleus and Lilia. You were grateful that they soon arrived, knowing how difficult it could be to find Malleus sometimes, especially if he did not want to be found.

Soon, all four of them were staring at you expectantly and you suddenly found yourself overcome with shyness, clasping your hands in front of you for something to do with your hands and looking down as you began to speak, stuttering over your words. “Um… I-I decided to try baking for the first time and I made a cake that I wanted everyone to try…” Hesitantly, you lift the lid on the cake box and reveal the lovely Victoria sponge cake to the group…

Malleus Draconia

Ngl you are worried at first because his mouth is just pressed into a thin line as he stares at the cake with a blank stare.

But then as soon as you begin slicing up the cake and passing around slices for everyone, he perks right up.

He’s getting to share a cake with everyone, instead of it being forced to be all his? What a splendid experience you have afforded him.

He is more than happy to tuck into the cake, complimenting its texture and flavour.

He has suffered through Lilia’s cooking too so he’s definitely savouring this as much as he can.

Tbh more than the cake he’s just overjoyed to be included in something, so he definitely appreciates you for that.

Lilia Vanrouge

He thinks that its great that you are breaking free of old traditions and trying new things.

Tells you how proud he is of you and encourages you to continue expressing your individuality (thanks batdad).

He’ll give you his blessing to use the Diasomnia dorm kitchen as you please and offer to bake with you sometime.

Don’t do it bestie.

As for the cake, he thinks it tastes good but could definitely benefit from a boost in nutrition!

He starts talking your ears off about what ingredients you could add to give it a little more ‘oomph’, Silver is trying to pry him away from you…

Silver

Surprised and impressed that you made a full-sized cake along with the fudge you had already prepared!

Just like Lilia, he’s really proud of you too.

He will compliment the cake and how you did a really good job on your first ever baking attempt. He thinks you are a natural at it (little does he know).

As promised, he doesn’t mention the fudge and gives you a gentle smile when you wink conspiratorially at him.

Sebek Zigvolt

This boy is always hungry so he’s so happy when he’s handed a large slice of cake.

But he’s even more excited to eat it when the cake receives Malleus’ blessing.

Even the young master is impressed by your cake? You should be honoured, human!!

He’s pretty much devoured the cake in a few bites and loudly proclaims how good it tastes.

(Half because he genuinely thinks it tastes good and half because Malleus said it was good so who is he to disagree with the Prince!)

Too shy to ask for seconds and will blush when you give him another slice.

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #silver x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

177 notes · View notes

stevesbipanic · 1 year

Text

It shouldn't have been hard.

Steve has made hundreds of cookies for the kids since becoming their pseudo mother. Steve is good at baking! Every year he makes Christmas cookies for fucks sake! It shouldn't have ended like this.

"What the actual fuck."

Let's rewind.

Steve had been regularly bringing little treats to Hellfire. He didn't play but he liked spending time with the kids and if it gave him an excuse to look at Eddie then that was his little secret. The problem at first had been the other members of Hellfire not trusting why King Steve suddenly wanted to spend time with the freaks, but a tray full of fresh brownies had smoothed over any old issues. Since then it had become habit.

Eddie had been the one to ask him.

"Stevie, my strong and handsome liege and creator of tasty treats."

Steve had to fight to control his blush, "You don't need to give me hollow compliments, Eds, what do you need."

Eddie's smile had faltered a bit but he continued, "Well, sweetheart, Christmas is coming up and Wayne and I made Christmas cookies the first year I lived with him and I wanted to surprise him with some homemade ones so I was hoping you'd help me?"

Steve smiled, any excuse to spend time with Eddie, plus, wouldn't hurt that he could show off and impress him, "Of course, Eds, come by tomorrow ok."

Steve had gotten out all the ingredients ready to make and then decorate the cookies. Simple sugar cookies shouldn't be too hard to teach Eddie how to make, Steve could make them in his sleep at this point. It had been snowing so when Eddie showed up he looked like an angel with little snowflakes resting in his curls and on his rosy cheeks. Fuck, Steve had it bad.

Steve had decided the best way to teach Eddie was to read out the recipe and let Eddie pour everything in.

"Ok add two sticks of butter and a cup of sugar to the bowl and mix until fluffy." Steve watched Eddie add the ingredients and start to mix them, well, he watched Eddie. Eddie was so cute with his tongue poked out concentrating.

"This look good?"

"Hm? Oh yeah looks great, now add an egg and some vanilla extract and mix those as well." Eddie had a little pinch between his eyebrows, Steve wanted to kiss him right there.

"Ok done."

"Great job, now in another bowl add two cups of flour and half a teaspoon of baking powder and a quarter teaspoon of salt."

"Baking is easy, we should do this more often, Stevie."

"Yeah, we should," Steve said smiling dopily at Eddie, "Ok now mix all of that together."

Steve then helped Eddie roll out the dough and cut out fun shapes to decorate.

"Eddie no dick cookies this is for your uncle!"

Steve put the cookies in the oven and helped Eddie make the icing. They watched a movie while the cookies cooked and then cooled. Steve thought he was pretty subtle cuddling up to Eddie. He was not.

When the timer went off the boys went back to decorate the cookies. With all their icing and candy supplies they sat beside each other at the table. Giggling together they decorated each cookie. Steve's certainly looked better but he thought Wayne would probably prefer his nephews chaotic ones.

"Eddie how did you sneak a dick cookie in!"

Once they were all done they admired their work. "I think we did a great job, Stevie."

"I think we did too, Eds, want to try the dick cookie together since there's no way I'm letting you give that to Wayne."

"Steve Harrington giving me dick, and we're not even dating yet."

"Yet?"

"Well I figured you'd ask me eventually," Eddie said smiling shyly and leaned over giving Steve a soft kiss on his cheek, passing him half of the cookie.

"Maybe we can count this as our first date?"

"I'd like that, Stevie."

The boys smiled at each other and bit into their cookies.

"What the actual fuck."

"Stevie, I know I'm gay and all but dick cookies shouldn't taste salty in my opinion."

"Eddie did how much salt did you add?"

"Quarter of a teaspoon like you said, basically a pinch."

Steve stood up and went into the kitchen, the sugar jar barely empty. "Eddie, baby, can you read?"

"You can't call me baby for the first time and insult me, this is terrible first date behaviour and if anyone is at fault it's your shit handwriting on the labels."

Steve had to admit, his handwriting was terrible. "You're right. Guess we'll just have to have another date to make some edible ones."

Eddie smiled, pulling Steve into a kiss, "I think I can work with that."

"Just no more dick cookies!"

#gift for el my fav lil artist #stranger things #christmas cookies #christmas stranger things #christmas steddie #steddie christmas #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things season 4 #ficlet #fluff #st christmas #the dick cookie is a gift to basil who laughs at all my dumb jokes

623 notes · View notes

miss-nob0dy · 1 year

Note

May I request for the reader who is the main cook for the guys? Like, they tried to takeover cooking duty for y/n to at least relax, but ends horribly and they just end up helping to make up for burning dinner??

AAAHHHH i loved writing this sm it was chaos THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST BABES!!

Alejandro Vargas

He usually sees you cooking most of the time, so he just feels this slight tinge of guilt for not taking over.

So then he decides to cook this time.

He’s a good cook, but we all have our moments, and this was one of those.

He decided to make pozole that day.

Everything was going well, until he had to deal with the chiles.

Dumbass accidentally rubbed his eyes while he still had chile on his fingers. A small yet common mistake.

You walked into the kitchen to prepare the food, but you just walked in on a teary-eyed Alejandro.

“..¿Estás bien, Alejandro?”

“No.”

You were quietly laughing, and he knew.

“Are you seriously laughing?”

“Sip.”

But, you start helping him out by just rinsing his eyes with warm water. Then you finally start cooking together.

You’ll argue about which ingredient goes next into the pot.

You two end up finishing the pozole, thankfully without burning down the entire kitchen.

Though you pick on him.

“You may have added too much salt, Alejandro.”

“Dios mío.”

——

John “Soap” MacTavish

He can cook a few things, but they're pretty basic.

Other than that, he can’t really cook. Maybe a little better on baking since that’s what he mostly knows.

Since you cook almost all the time for him, he just feels bad.

So he made the brave decision to bake something in order to thank you for cooking.

We all know how that went.

He ended up mixing the cupcake batter a little too hard, and now half of the kitchen and himself are covered in cupcake mix.

Unfortunately, you walked in on the scene. You definitely took a picture.

He’s just staring at you while you try to hold back your laugh.

After you force him out of the kitchen to change into something clean, you both work together this time.

“How about I pour the batter into the pan.”

“Fine.”

You let him take care of the oven, but you’re just watching him in case he fucks up somehow.

This guy can probably take out things from the oven without mitts. It’s a hidden talent of his.

“Put something on your hands at least, goddamn it!”

“I don’t feel anything at all.”

You two ended up making some bomb ass cupcakes. Just don’t ever leave him alone in the kitchen again.

——

Simon “Ghost” Riley

This guy can’t cook for shit. Don’t ever trust him.

The only thing you can really trust him with cooking is just stirring.

Ghost still felt bad for not helping out.

So, when he decided to help you by cooking this time, it was utter chaos.

Mans did not know what he was doing.

He was trying to make a simple muffin.

He even messed up which ingredients he needed to get.

He left the kitchen with a bunch of flour everywhere. He even had some on his face.

Barely anything was actually IN the bowl.

When he saw you in the corner of his eye, he just looked at you nervously.

“..Morning.”

“Simon, what the actual fuck?”

He felt even worse since he also messed up the kitchen. But you reassured him that you didn't really care.

Since there was some leftover batter, you decided to just help him finish up with the muffins.

He kept crushing the eggs by accident.

“Why do you keep crushing the eggs?”

“I dunno.” And he just gives you a confused shrug.

When you two finally finish making the muffins, you wipe off the extra flour he had in his face.

He just gives you a small smile.

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #mw2 x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #gender neutral reader

792 notes · View notes

tired-reader-writer · 2 months

Text

So in chapter 2 of my fic Winds of Wolfsong I was originally going to go much more in-depth with Nowruz, the new-year celebration, what with food and all, I even collected notes.

However, I did not actually end up including a lot of the stuff in the chapter itself, most of it didn't even end up being written into the first draft. I was gonna figure out the incorporation of symbolism as I wrote, which didn't end up happening, whoops.

But I gathered notes, they'll probably come into use in the future and hey, y'all might be interested and find some use out of those too.

Sizdah Bedar (Persian: سیزده‌بدر – sīzdah bedar), (lit. 'Thirteen outdoor') also known as Nature's Day (روز طبیعت – rūz-e tabī'at), is an Iranian festival held annually on the thirteenth day of Farvardin, the first month of the Iranian calendar (and the first month of spring, during which people spend time picnicking outdoors. It marks the end of the Nowruz holidays in Iran.

This actually made it into the fic, what with the little family going out for a picnic in the morning, though they did the actually get to have the picnic due to... stuff happening. Isfan says:

Today is the thirteenth of the new year, the last of Nowruz, the second one without Lady Jahanara.

So... yeah!

A custom performed at the end of the picnic is to throw the sprouted greens (سبزه – Sabze) that were part of the traditional Haft-Seen Nowruz display into moving water.

In the chapter Isfan says:

They would cast the Sabzeh sprouts in this stream afterwards, all of them, together.

It is actually customs for young people to knot the sprouts together if they're wishing for marriage partners, it didn't get mentioned in the chapter because nobody was looking for a marriage at the moment. Shapur is resolute to not wed, the kids are too young, Sanira and Behnam are married to each other.

Sekanjabin (Persian: سکنجبین), one of the oldest Iranian drinks, is made of honey and vinegar. Sekanjabin is usually served in summer. It is sometimes seasoned with mint. It is very popular in summer, but it is also an inseparable part of Sizdah Bedar. Iranians eat lettuce with Sekanjabin. This act is symbolically a promise to stay healthy during the New Year. Sekanjabin is a compound of سرکه serke "vinegar" and انگبین angabin "honey".

I at the very least wanted to include Sekanjabin buuuuuut I couldn't find the space. Oh well, it'll have to be put in cryosleep for future use.

Ash-e doogh, (Persian: آش دوغ), also known as "yoghurt soup", originates from the Azeri region of northwest Iran and is one of the traditional soups of Ardabil. It is a common dish found in many regions and cultures within West Asia, including Iran, Azerbaijan, and Turkey. Ash-e doogh is a soup usually made with yogurt or doogh, as well as different kind of herbs (such as coriander, leek, tarragon, mint, and parsley), vegetables (such as spinach, purslane, chickpeas, peas, onion and garlic), lamb meatballs, eggs, rice, salt and several types of spices. Fried mint with oil (and sometimes garlic) is used as a topping for the soup. This soup can be made vegetarian.

Doesn't have much of a symbolic thing going on, just collected in case I may need it.

One of the most common foods cooked on the occasion of Nowruz is Samanu (Samanak, Somank, Somalek). This food is prepared using wheat germ. In most countries that celebrate Nowruz, this food is cooked. In some countries, cooking this food is associated with certain rituals. Women and girls in different parts of Iran, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan cook Samanu in groups and sometimes during the night, and when cooking it, they sing memorable songs.

Samanu did actually make it... into a discarded draft. I ended up erasing the sentence and I can't find it again but it was just a passing mention of the brothers having it with bread for breakfast. Samanu does have a symbolic meaning, especially associated with Nowruz, as it is one of the seven items placed on the Haft-sīn table during the celebration.

The Haft-Seen table is composed of “haft” (or seven) essential symbols that represent nature, and “sin” which may have been shortened from “sini” (or trays), which held these essential symbols. The symbols break down into three from the material world (or “donyaheh mahdoodiat”), three from the immaterial world (or “donayeh maanah”) — this is the world of meaning and ideas — and one symbol that sits between and ties these two worlds together.

By tradition, Iranian families take great pains to create the most beautiful Haft-Seen table that they can, for not only does it embody values both traditional and spiritual, it is also appreciated by the visitors during Nowruz visiting exchanges as a reflection of the families' aesthetic sense and good taste.

Typically, before the arrival of Nowruz, family members gather around the Haft-sin table and await the exact moment of the March equinox to celebrate the New Year. The number 7 and the letter S are related to the seven Ameshasepantas as mentioned in the Zend-Avesta. They relate to the four elements of Fire, Earth, Air, Water, and the three life forms of Humans, Animals and Plants. In modern times, the explanation was simplified to mean that the Haft-sin (Persian: هفت‌سین, seven things beginning with the letter sin (س)) are: • Sabze/Sabzeh (Persian: سبزه), Sprouting/Grass – wheat, barley, mung bean, or lentil sprouts grown in a dish, the symbol of rebirth and growth. • Samanu (Persian: سمنو) – sweet pudding made from wheat germ, the symbol of power and strength. • Senjed (Persian: سنجد) – Persian olive, the symbol of love. • Serke/Serkeh (Persian: سرکه) – vinegar, the symbol of patience. • Sib/Seeb (Persian: سیب) – apple, the symbol of beauty. • Sīr/Seer (Persian: سیر) – garlic, the symbol of health and medicine. • Somāq/Somagh (Persian: سماق) – sumac, the symbol of sunrise.

Man, reading the notes again, I wish I could've found a way to incorporate this but oh well, no use lamenting over it now. I'm sure I'll find some use of it in the future.

But they're not the only items on the Haft-sīn table.

Items that don't start with "س" but, nonetheless, are invariably included: • Tokhm-e Morg Rangi (تخم‌مرغ رنگی): Eggs, the symbol of fertility. • Ayina (آینه): Mirror, the symbol of self-reflection. • Shem'a (شمع): Candle, the symbol of enlightenment. • Maahi-ye Qırmız (ماهی قرمز): Goldfish, the symbol of progress. • Ketaab (کتاب): Book, the symbol of wisdom.

I'm less bummed about those because I wasn't determined to include them anyways but here they are nonetheless!

I don't know when they'd take down the Haft-sīn table, if they would've taken it down yet, so I may be able to squeeze some use out of it yet. We'll see.

@innerchorus You said you were interested so here ya go!

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #wolfpack au #winds of wolfsong

15 notes · View notes

unmotivated-student · 5 months

Text

Hey, take what I say with a grain of salt

It's not an analysis, it's more like my point of view, you may not agree with everything and that's perfectly fine :D ♡ [feel free to give your opinion in this post].

qRoier has been through so much [pain, loss, betrayal] and the emotional scars continue to accumulate.

He lost his son [Bobby died in his care], he lost Tilin and Juanaflipa too, also during purgatory he had to do horrible things like kill and hurt people who were important to him, all this in the hope of being able to save the eggs or at least some of them.

But in the end, he lost everyone who had cared about him [qFoolish, qJaiden, qCellbit... to mention a few but qCellbit being one of the "losses" that have the most weight in the current state of qRoier] and they could only save a single egg, it couldn't even have been one chosen by the winning team, it was a random choice by a roulette wheel making the whole purgatory thing feel even more pointless.

He left purgatory feeling alone and also with the feeling of having been used just for entertainment by the eye guy.

qRoier lost everything without gaining anything and that's the worst...

No, scratch that, one of the worst things for him may be that with the return of the eggs he's not even sure if he really lost these people, he doesn't know if they are alive, he doesn't know if they are well or if they are dying in some hole and seeing eggs in a coma is [maybe] a reminder of that possibility.

So it's no surprise to me that he tries to convince himself that those in the hospital are fake eggs or something like that.

It is easier to try to accept that they are no longer with him and that there is nothing that can be done than to think day and night how much they are probably suffering and that HE cannot do anything for them, it is easier than hoping they'll return only to have that hope mercilessly taken away from him.

Now, why do I think the possible loss of qCellbit has relevance to the current state of qRoier?

When they got married it was like making a pact to be there for each other through thick and thin [which Roier was willing to do] and they always trusted each other. Just before purgatory qCellbit confessed to qRoier that he had been killing the federation workers and asked him if he was willing to help him and accompany him down that dark path [obviously qRoier accepted], they went through a lot together during the purgatory [they even they decided to blow up together when the meteor didn't crush them] so I think qRoier was confident that if they didn't leave purgatory together, they would both die in it TOGETHER.

But that didn't happen, instead qRoier managed to get on the boat in the hope of finding qCellbit there and a few seconds before the whole egg island went to hell he only received one last goodbye and one last "i love you".

qCellbit decided to stay on Egg Island with Richarlyson but wanted his husband to be well.

He wanted him to be well and to live, to be safe back on Quesadilla Island, it was probably fine for qCellbit to leave like that, after all he no longer had many things tying him to Quesadilla Island and surely qCellbit didn't want qRoier to get hurt because of his own selfish decision.

Buuut, for qRoier that was the most selfish decision qCellbit could have made, it was like he had left him out of his plans, it's no wonder he feels abandoned, qCellbit He broke that pact they had and broke qRoier's trust [in a certain way] by not telling him that he didn't really want to go back to Quesadilla knowing that qRoier was willing to follow him wherever he went, knowing that qRoier was willing to stay with him, together.

And then there's Pepito... Oh Pepito.

I think qRoier has mixed feelings about Pepito, on the one hand he doesn't trust the federation at all [or anyone in general, but mainly the federation after everything they've done and what they did to him and Jaiden when Bobby died, not to mention that Roier probably believes that the federation was also responsible for purgatory [I'm not sure either if the eye guy is from the federation or not xd]] reason why I think it is understandable that he does not accept Pepito in the first instance, another thing that is not in Pepito's favor are qRoier's emotional scars [We already know, Bobby died and he doesn't want to replace him, he just lost a lot in purgatory [a very recent scar], his possible fear of forming bonds with other people or eggs, the fact that Richarlyson and Leo are in a coma and there is nothing he can do..] Pepito's arrival simply couldn't have been at a worse time.

I also feel that a part of qRoier knows that Pepito is not to blame for anything [or at least that's what part of him wants to believe] and deep down he cares about Pepito. Maybe seeing Pepito so happy and innocent, makes him think it's best to treat Pepito so roughly, not only to avoid getting too attached to Pepito [due to trauma, because it would be painful if Pepito died and also because the federation gave Pepito to him out of nowhere without prior notice] but also because he knows how much that island [and the federation] can break you and how much it can take from you, it is better to take away that innocence little by little himself than for the island to do it all at once, right?. [All those times qRoier has said that Pepito reminds him of him, makes me believe that qRoier sees in Pepito reflected the same innocence that he had in his first days on the island, excited to make friends and meet new people but what did all of that lead him to? To loneliness and pain, a lot of pain in fact].

He could very well walk away from Pepito completely but instead he keeps him [kind of] close because he knows that HE is the only thing Pepito has and maybe the closest thing to a family Pepito can ever have on that island.

At this point I think qRoier is afraid of loneliness, but he is even more afraid of being abandoned. He is isolating himself from everyone on the island, limiting his relationships so he doesn't have to have to go through that feeling of abandonment again.

Or rather, Quesadilla Island has taught him how dangerous and painful trust and the bonds one form with others can be.

And he doesn't want to feel any more pain so he is being even more careful about those things.

And today's stream highlights qRoier's trust issues for me.

They are a lot of thoughts thrown together in one post. I hope it makes sense ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ.

#qsmp roier #qsmp rambles #qsmp

25 notes · View notes

fazedlight · 1 year

Note

something something organelles something chloroplasts…. sulfates…

*nodding along* yes talk science to me damn

It was so hard to write that chapter of Even Though You're Kryptonian, and try to figure out what the audience would need to know (assuming that most of the audience didn't have biology fresh on their minds). I ended up summing it to "okay, the audience needs to know that blood is important, and that the trait is maternally passed" and also "the audience needs to know this comes down to quantum information, which can't be cloned". When Nia says "skip the science", that is because I took out full paragraph explanations that were originally written there when I went back to editing 🤣 Buuuut this is tumblr, so I'll summarize here!

Quantum cloning is actually impossible (and would break the universe if it were possible), which Lena notes. On the TV show, they say they need Kara's DNA, and then get really sad when it's destroyed... but Lena is a scientist, replicating DNA is super easy, she definitely would've done that before loading the device!! So in my fic, we're going with quantum signatures, because the sadness around needing to reset the device to fight the phantoms makes sense.

The stable marriage problem (also called the "stable matching problem") is an actual thing in algorithms, with applications in economics. It's not specific to marriage - you can use similar algorithms to optimize which schools students attend, for instance. And it's always solvable, given certain conditions, with one of those conditions being that the two groups are distinct (like colleges are group 1, students are group 2 - a college can't attend a college & a student can't attend a student). If you don't have distinct groups, it turns into the stable roommate problem, which is not guaranteed to be solvable.

So basically my headcanon is that Krypton would look at algorithms and say "We can't have gay marriage, that's not algorithmically efficient!" because Krypton is the type of screwed up society that thinks everything should be done by algorithm.

Chloroplasts are organelles in plants. (Organelles are just organs for cells - instead of hearts and livers and kidneys, cells have things like mitochondria and nuclei and endoplasmic reticula.) Mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell? Well, so are chloroplasts (in plants!).

Lena at some point on the TV show tells the group that Reign's cells are more like plant cells, which Kara confirms as how kryptonians convert sunlight to energy (which is what a chloroplast does). But I say they're not quite chloroplasts because they have to use a different dye - kryptonians aren't green. Lutein is a yellow dye in plants (think fall leaves) that could probably be masked by the natural melanin in human skin. So that's what I made as the thing that causes kryptonians to give off a quantum signature - the conversion of sunlight to power.

Organelles really are passed from the mother (egg) to the child. Sperm doesn't have room for much besides DNA. (Though for reasons not yet explained, kryptonian biology is going to work a little differently than Lena expects.)

As for sulfates, that's just a category of salt, and they're plentiful in the ocean. I needed something that killed libido... unfortunately, most of the real stuff that would kill libido are things like alcohol or opioids, and I didn't want kryptonian kids running around stoned all the time. But salt can contribute to high blood pressure, which can lower libido - sooooo let's just pretend that kryptonians are particularly likely to experience this side effect, while not being killed by blood pressure. Their biology is different anyway!

#“endoplasmic reticulum” is a fun thing to say #i've done some algorithmic work as a software engineer before and my spouse's job is basically graph theory #I've also worked in a lab and done a PCR and know that replicating DNA is super easy first hand #mitochondria+chloroplasts also have their own DNA separate from the nucleus DNA for hilarious reasons #which allows us to trace maternity really easily because that DNA changes much more slowly than the human/nucleus DNA #THIS IS PROBABLY WAY MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW I AM SO SORRY #in this essay I will-#asks #katiemcgrathisdaddyaf #headcanon

62 notes · View notes

aforrestofstuff · 1 year

Text

Chapter 173 Expert Review: The "Hey, my boyfriend saw you across the bar and we really dig your vibe" Edition

The cover makes me so uncomfortable it's like I'm at a party and said something weird just as the music went quiet and everyone heard and they're all looking at me and everyone hates me and I'm so anxious and

Welcome to the Chapter 173 Expert Review! I have completely lost count of how many of these I've done. If you're coming here for a well-thought-out meta-commentary on the hit series franchise anime manga One Punch Man, then look elsewhere because I put a grand total of ten minutes of thought into this post that took me 45 minutes to write.

I hope you're all well. If you're new here from Twitter then yes, I'm really always like this and I apologize. I don't know how to segway to the actual commentary, so um......... here we gooooooo.....

I don't know what I was expecting. Could I have predicted that Murata would yassify Bofoi? Probably. Do I ever want to come to terms with the fact that he did? No.

Shut up I'm not saying anything. I'm not saying anything. I'm not. He looks like he's wearing those really oversized dentures at Party City. His head looks more like an egg than Saitama's. Why does he still look kinda.... no I'm not gonna say it. I'm not. I'M NOT. GET OUT OF MY HEAAADD RAAAAAAEERERARAAAAWW

I'D FUCK HIM!!!! I'D FUCK BOFOI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING HE'S NOT AN ENDEARING SORT OF UGLY OK IM SICK OF IT!!! I'M GONNA DESTROY HIS OLD MAN CERVIX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANNA FUCK HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How many enemies has Saitama made just by existing already. Is this number three? Sonic, God, and now Bofoi? Oh, well, I guess Saitama did fuck up his robots but that was self-defense 100% and it WILL hold up in the court of law.

Oh, okay. Now we have a better idea of the timeline since Saitama became a hero.... only two months???? Dude, I've had packages lost in the mail for longer than that.

I kinda thought he'd been a hero for at least six months. I guess what Garou said about coming back to fuck up the heroes after six months at the beginning of his arc was only a sort of red herring to make it seem like he'd be the world-ending Shibabooby prophecy, but in relation to how long Saitama's been a hero, turns out my guy only fucked shit up for like, what? One month?

Was this just obvious to everyone else except me. I really should've never learned how to read dawg.

THANK YOU Amai Mask for being the "Please explain the plot so readers with the comprehension skills of fourth graders can know what's going on" character in this because I swear to fucking god I had no clue what anyone was talking about.

Also, Ninja Leader makes an appearance as Blast's totally super platonic partner. Supposedly they were "searching for a mysterious cube" together. People these days make up such weird euphemisms for skipping work to fuck each other in a ditch, I swear. 🙄🙄🙄

A couple of things:

Is Blast wearing the Ninja Leader's glasses in the present? Oh, so they really were super platonic, huh.

You mean to tell me bro aged THIS MUCH in two years? 700 days ago he was late-twenties rager at Planet Fitness and now he's a 57-year-old salt and pepper daddy at the gay bar?

I guess it could have something to do with his powers, manipulating space-time and all that. Blast teleports through something that is basically a copy-and-pasted black hole, which could explain why time flows differently for him, but doesn't time slow down near a black hole? So he should be aging slower if anything.

So, did God age him? Is this even the same Blast that came in contact with God? Something something uuuhh time travel something something...

I don't fucking know. This could also just be a case of "Murata doesn't know how to draw people that look their age" although he's been getting better about that, at least... Just seems ODD to me that Blast has aged like an avocado in a manga where characters only seem to look younger as time goes by.

Very noble that he's fighting God alone with the Interdimensional Justice League and their Pocket Dimension Pool Table to protect everyone else. Something still feels fishy about this, though........ especially since he's a deadbeat ass dad in the webcomic. I don't trust a GODDAMN thing this boy has to say. I DONT CARE IF HE'S HOT!! And I think that is so brave of me.

Forrest has a theory and everyone's gotta hear about it a million times until he's proven otherwise.

Y'all already heard me say how God has one-sided beef with Saitama because Saitama broke the limiter God had placed on him, and I suppose that alone is still a decent reason for God to be pulled to Earth, but I still think God's full body (and power) is imprisoned in the dimensional seal Blast was screaming about as Saitama was fighting Monster Garou V2.

And Saitama's habit of fucking shit up as collateral for saving the world is further eroding God's jail cell, so he's unknowingly helping his enemy get closer to him. This fucking goober.

It makes sense because the massive body in the seal looks like a fully-formed person, whereas whenever we see God free, he's always a sort of unfinished skeletal figure. He's incomplete.

Is this another one of those things where it seems painfully obvious to everyone else except me. Y'all are free to hop in my inbox and call me a dumbass if you want.

Final thoughts because this review is already too goddamn long and I wanted to shitpost a bit more but I guess I can do that on other posts because I'm TIRED.

All in all, we really needed a good expo-debrief chapter to put everything in perspective because the Monster Association arc was a load of reveals with not a lot of resolutions. I think the ending was still very anticlimactic because, although we were introduced to a lot of shit like God and Blast and whatnot, none of that was really tied up in a satisfying way, nor left on an interesting cliffhanger. Just more and more questions. Even Garou's arc hasn't ended really, and all the development he and Saitama had gone through was forgotten (for NOW, because of Genos' core, but I digress) so it almost feels like... not much really happened at all. Nothing really ended, it was just a collection of more plot threads beginning.

I wish ONE waited a bit longer to really delve into God and Blast because I think the Monster Association arc could've been a lot more comprehensive and well-paced if it had just been (mostly) contained to what was happening between the heroes and monsters. But I can appreciate how comprehensive the plot is now after the fallout, just... the road to get here was rocky. I lost all the tires on my jeep.

I'm excited for Psychic Sisters.

In conclusion: if you were at the Whole Foods down the street and took a blue bike tied to the railing then you're a fucking bitch GIVE IT BACK!! THAT'S MY FUCKING BIKE!!

GIVE BACK MY FUCKING BIKE!!!!! YOU STOLE MY BIKE!!

p.s. -- I'm still waiting for the Zombiedad and Child Emperor Get Milkshakes Together omake. Murata, pls. Also give my bike back.

Thanks for reading. Please, I need my bike.

#opm #one punch man #flashy flash #zombieman #child emperor #meta #saitama #genos #blast #god #amai mask #garou #metal knight

160 notes · View notes