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yanderenightmare · 8 months

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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, pet play, collaring, degradation, Daddy kink, hints of abuse

gn reader

Thinking about being an older guy’s pleasure pet…

He sits down with a labored huff, manspreading widely with his cock hanging freely between his thick thighs. It’s too heavy to stand on its own – chubby and veined from hilt to bulbous tip, dripping white coins on the floor.

He pets the bed next to him, curling his finger at you, beckoning you to crawl over with a gentle smile as he tells you it’s time for your midnight feeding.

You obey, coming to kneel before him, letting his large hand cup your whole face in a warm and calloused hand.

“Open up, baby.” He hums, and you drop your jaw to receive the slow drop of spit he lets go into your mouth – it’s thick on your tongue, sliding slowly down your throat with a taste of scotch and tobacco.

It takes everything in you not to gag – but you know a slap from his hand is enough to pop your lip and make your jaw feel broken – so you swallow with a happy sigh as if it were delicious.

“Good baby~” He praises, pinching your cheek softly while picking up your leash in the other hand – tugging it just a bit to pull you closer until you’re smothered in his fat manhood.

His strong thighs are spread just wide enough to allow you to fit between them and just close enough to still hug and nestle your head snugly. He lays the length of his cock on top of you, awing at the sight while measuring it with your sweet face.

“Begin.” He’ll say – his lazy gaze heavy with heat, hooded and soaked with enjoyment as he watches you wet your lips before kissing his weighty set of balls, his precum sticking to you in pretty pearl necklaces.

He’ll groan loudly, keeping his eyes on yours and how big and pretty they are, looking up at him so submissively while he tangles his hand in your hair – promptly angling your pretty face up and down his shaft.

“I want your tongue, baby.” He might say if you waste his time. Giving your collar a lax pull and your scalp an eager tug, prompting you to finally taste that thick heated mess you’ve made – pilling from his dickhole – shuddering with his head thrown back as you clean it with a sweet kitten lick. “Yesss, baby- drink Daddy’s milk~”

He’ll lock his hairy thighs around your face – keep you there – wearing your throat like a sleeve with your nose buried in his belly chub – with no air – just the intimacy of his heavy leer, endeared by the sight of your pretty eyes welling with tears as you try your best to please him – sucking and hallowing your cheeks, moaning to show him how much you enjoy it.

When he finally cums, his broad chest heaving in an arch and a loud moan of your name, he’ll tug his cock against your face, with his leaky tip slapping your tongue and his balls swinging against your chin before spurting his batter right into your gaping mouth. Shuddering from the bliss of it when painting your face in the white thickness.

When finished, he’ll sigh happily – his head lolling back, slanted to the side while looking down at you with a peaceful smile on his lips. “Thank you, Baby~ I needed that. My balls were so full I thought they’d explode. But you drank it all like a good cum-junkie should, didn’t you?” He coos proudly, petting your hair slowly – still with his softening cock resting on your face – looking so cute, all dewy with sweat and cum – his thick thighs cradling you just lax enough to allow you to pant for air again. “For your reward, I’ll let you pick which hole I stuff first in the morning~”

He enjoys the sweet curl his promise elicits between your brows. Makes him want to sit on top of you and fuck the pretty expression for another hour.

But it’s getting late.

“For now- clean me up so we can go to bed, baby~”

BNHA – Enji, Aizawa, Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima

JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji, Kenjaku

AOT – Erwin, Zeke

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catssluvr · 1 month

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𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮, spencer reid

spencer x shy!r

spencer brings you coffee <3

warnings: mentions of stress? just fluff 🫶🏻

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You sighed as your eyes scaned the paper in front of you, not bothering to take a look at the mountain of files standing at the corner of your table. You were pretty much sure that if you did, your headache - that would soon turn into a migrane - would start showing signs way too soon in the day. 7am was definitely too early for that.

This week was particularly kicking your ass and the only thing you wanted was to go back home, curl into your sofa with some takeout and watch a junkie romcom.

You couldn't help but frown at the empty chair of the table in front of yours that belonged to spencer, it was unsual for him to be this late. Well, technically he wasn´t late but knowing him he would usually arrive 30 minutes earlier.

Before you could think too much about it, Derek´s voice sounded behind you, "You alright, pretty girl?" He asked with one of his teasing but loving smiles plastered on his face.

"Yeah, just tired of paperwork. Hotch knows how to make me get as grumpy as him." You joked with a smile, trying to mask your tiredness.

"Well if you need me to kick his ass just reach out." He joked, looking aroud to make sure there was no sign of your boss before walking back to his desk.

You were about to get back to your paper when you noticed Spencer walking through the doors, clumsly carrying two coffees and what happeared to be a box from the place where they sell your favourite bagels.

You couldn´t help but smile as you watched him take small steps to his table, careful not to spill the coffee. You would have helped him if your mind wasn´t concentrated on how much you miss him lately. Aside from the fact your stomach errupts in a thousand butterflies when you see him, he is the best bestfriend in the whole world and having to cancel friday´s movie night was probably one of your most heartbreaking decisions. You usually wouldnt miss it for nothing but files don´t yet fill themselves alone so it was your only option.

Friday nights were the only oportunity you had to relax completely, Spencer was probably one of the only people that you were completely comfortable around, he understood you like no one else - which leads to the big question: how could you not fall in love with him?

"Hi." His voice interrupted your thoughts, he was now standing beside you with his signature smile, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel wrapped up in a paper in the other.

"Hey Spence." You smiled shyly at him, embarrassed for getting caught in your daydream. Gladly, he hadn’t ´t even noticed you staring, him being just as oblivious as you when it came to the feelings you shared for eachother.

"I- uhm- bought you this. I just noticed you haven´t been taking breaks at all, not even for lunch. And if you're not eating enough during the day, particularly carbohydrate-rich foods, you may have decreased levels of serotonin, a hormone that has a calming effect. That increases the chances of getting stressed." He rambled on, not that you minded - at all. In fact, your heart skiped a beat at the thought of him caring so much about your health that he came in late just to buy you breakfast.

"Oh Spence you really didn´t have to. But thank you so much." You grinned sheepishly as you got up from your chair, taking both the coffee and bagel from his hands and setting it on your table, blushing when his knuckles brushed against your hand. It was silly, really silly, but you couldn´t help but get flustered every time.

"It´s no problem, really." He mumbled softly before going on, "I hope i got everything right. Four cubes of ice, three fourths of milk and one fourth of coffee. Oh and i made sure to choose the bagel that contained more carbs so you would have energy for the day." He smiled proudly at you.

But honestly your attention was mostly focused on the way his fingers were fiddling with the cozy sweater that covered your arms as he rambled on. It had became an habit of his, he claimed it helped his concentration (it was a pretty lame excuse to get to touch your fluffy sweaters) but you were pretty sure he did it when he was feeling nervous about something.

Reality hit you suddenly as you realised he might feel like you were upset at him for canceling friday night, after all it was a very unusual for you to cancel plans with him.

"Hug?" Was all you could muster out, the longing you had felt throughout the week from barely even talking to him finally coming to the surface.

His hands pulled at your sweater, bringing you close to him before you could overthink your request. He wrapped his arms arounds your waist without hesitation, his face snuggling against your neck.

Your arms went around his shoulders, trying not to squeeze him too hard, as you stayed there for a few moments. He made no sign to pull away from you until you did, you loved that about him - you loved a lot of things about him.

When you were finally out of his embrace, mourning the lack of warmt right after, he smiled as he whispered softly, "Let me know if you need any of those again." Before walking back to his desk, almost tripping over his desk as he looked at you with those doe eyes of his the whole way.

How could you not fall in love with him?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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majordemonblockparty · 5 months

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also, on the subject of sam winchester's two canonical obsessions (serial killers and esoteric podcasts):

wouldn't it be funny if sam and jess met at like. true crime trivia night at their local dive bar. and they get put on the singles team with other people who came without an established trivia team, but it becomes pretty clear pretty quick that they're gonna be the stars of this show.

jess raised on a steady diet of pulp crime paperbacks and crime reporting television, who has all kinds of gory shit rattling around in her head, who can identify what hideous once-in-a-century murder is depicted in grainy grayscale crime scene photos in under thirty seconds, who can quote verbatim from over two dozen ransom notes, who's obsessed with people who disappeared mysteriously, never to be seen or heard from again. and sam, who's been raised... well, who's been raised the way he's been raised.

they get on like a house on fire. (the irony of that is lost on both of them.)

finally, somebody who doesn't think it's weird to have real theory about what happened to the sodder children, none of that sicilian mafia nonsense. someone who can speak intelligently about the prevalence of killings in national parks and protected forests. someone whose eye will snag on headlines like "couple found slain; county sheriff to hold conference today" and "charred corpse still unidentified" and flip through to find whatever column inches have been allotted to the day's worst happenings. someone who can name drop cold cases and milk carton kids like a memorized major league roster -- the boy in the box, the babes in the woods, the lyon girls, the des moines register newspaper boys; angie samota, bobby dunbar, alfred beilhartz, charley ross, dorothy ann distelhurst, everett ruess, glen and bessie hyde, marjorie west.

(jess who's so hyped to show sam an article she found about the twentieth anniversary of a mysterious fire where a young mother died and her two young children vanished, presumably with her husband in the aftermath. "isn't that crazy?" she tells him, brandishing a xerox, all cheshire-cat meet-in-the-back-of-her-head grin. "they had the same last name as you!"

"crazy," sam echos and stares down at the blurry black-and-white photo of a house he barely remembers.)

lifelong true crime junkie jessica moore and lifelong true crime victim sam winchester.

#sam winchester #jessica moore #supernatural headcanon #headcanons & other nonsense #she speaks

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softspiderling · 2 years

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risk it all | b.r.b

summary: the gym fic™️

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: breaking gym etiquette, thirsty reader

word count: 3,4k

author's note: coming back with a bang i guess🤪thanks to jordan, may and sol for the continuous support ily guys.

He was staring.

You thought it was a fluke at first, that he was looking at someone that was standing behind you, but there wasn’t anyone.

You had checked.

Several times.

The moment you realized that he was looking at you, you started sweating profusely. And it wasn’t because of the exercise, even though it was indeed kicking your ass. You weren’t a gym junkie by all means, and you didn’t even know if you were doing the exercise correctly.

About your second rep in, you had enough and lifted your head to meet his gaze head on. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he had the decency to flush when he turned his eyes away. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, you finished your last rep, picking up your water bottle and taking an angry swig from it. You glared daggers at the man, who had his back turned to you by now and headed to the changing rooms, grabbing your stuff.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Natasha asked when you came home, kicking the door shut behind you.

“There was an asshole at the gym who was staring at me.”

Natasha pulled a face, twisting her hair into a bun, the heat of the stove getting to her.

“You know I keep telling you to come to my gym instead.”

“UGH! I wish I could, but I literally just made a year-long contract with my gym like two months ago,” you groaned, dropping down on the couch like a sack of potatoes. “Couldn’t you have told me about your gym before I made my contract?”

Natasha peaked her head out of the kitchen to laugh at you and you couldn’t even be bothered to glare at her. It was weird how comfortable you were around each other, even though you’ve barely known each other for a month. You had posted an ad online that you were looking for a roommate and after countless interviews with people that were okay-ish, but not really your vibe, you met Natasha at a coffee shop and after bonding over your lactose-intolerance, you offhandedly mentioned you were searching for a roommate.

Yeah.

Admittedly a very weird thing to bond over, but now you always had a carton of oat milk and a carton of coconut milk in your fridge and a very cool roommate.

“Well, then you gotta power through it. I’m sure you won’t see him again, and if you do, don’t hesitate to confront him, babe,” Natasha said, ever the strong woman. “Now go shower, you stink. Dinner is ready soon.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen and you forced yourself up, dragging a hand over your face, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You always liked to think that you were as strong as she was, but all your bravado usually left you as soon as you opened your mouth.

You just hoped you wouldn’t see him again, so you didn’t have to confront him at all.

The next time you were at the gym, it was about two weeks later and you had completely forgotten about the guy. Over the past week, it had gotten unbearably hot and you couldn’t find the strength to go to the gym to sweat even more so you gave yourself a time off until it cooled down again. It wasn’t exactly chilly, but at least it wasn’t that humid in the gym. The gym wasn’t packed as it usually was around this time, so it didn’t take you long to get through your workout. When you sat down on one of your last machines, you tensed slightly when you saw him right across from you, doing weighted pull-ups.

To your annoyance, you realized that he was hot.

Like, really hot.

The shirt he was wearing was thin and white, miles of defined muscle just underneath, His arms were huge, biceps straining as he pulled himself up and then lowered himself again. With a grunt he dropped down from the bars and you quickly averted your gaze, getting busy with your own weights. When you were all done, you straightened up your back and started the exercise, seeing how he was standing basically straight across from you, slightly to the left.

Opting to just stare into the mirror on the other side of the wall, you could still see him looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t help it, but for a split second, you glanced over to him. Unlike the last time, he actually held your gaze and until you turned away, your cheeks turning red.

God, what a fucking dick.

You dropped the weights with a loud thunk, reaching for your phone.

roomie one: that fucking douchebag is here again

roomie two: Gym starer?

roomie one: … yes

roomie two: Get him!

roomie one: i’m not going to confront him in the middle of the gym

roomie two: Well, he’d deserve it.

The timer on the chest press indicated that your resting time was over, so you put your phone away. getting back to your workout. While you had been texting Natasha, gym starer had gotten back on the bar, his back to you. Small beads of sweat started to form on the nape of his neck, running down the back of the straining shirt that stretched across his shoulders every time he flexed his arms to pull himself up.

After a while, you realized that you had done way more reps than you were supposed to, your muscles aching in protest. Cursing, you dropped the weights, gently this time, and wiped your face with your towel. Lifting your head, you could see that he was looking at you again and since you didn’t want to be that creepy person who stared at someone else in the gym, like he kept doing, you decided it was enough for the day and went to the locker rooms. Luckily, no one was in there, so you leaned your head against the cold metal of the lockers, letting out a frustrated scream.

“Cut your workout short?”

Wordlessly, you held your hand up, shutting the front door behind you, too annoyed with yourself to talk, and Natasha raised an eyebrow at you, putting her book away. Dropping your gym bag on the floor, you took a seat at the dining table and laid your head down.

“He’s hot,” you muttered against the wooden surface.

“I didn’t understand a thing.”

With a long sigh, you lifted your head, looking at Natasha with a pout. “Gym starer. He’s hot.”

“Ah, so now he’s not the creepy gym starer anymore,” Natasha snorted, putting her feet on the coffee table and you glared at her. Because she was right. Screw double-standards.

“God, you should’ve seen him,” you moaned, covering your face with your hands. “His arms are huge. And his shirt was so thin, I could basically see through the fabric and ugh-”

Natasha pulled a face. “Gross.”

“Shut up. Not everyone can like women,” you huffed, standing up. “I need to take a shower.

“Yeah you do, you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Jesus, Tash,” you exclaimed and Natasha only cackled at you as you headed to the bathroom to grab a shower, hoping to wash this dirty feeling away. While you stood under the stream of the water, you let out a sigh. You could not develop a crush on gym starer. That would be against your principles and it would be just, really fucking inconvenient.

Unfortunately you weren’t one of those girls who got cute gym sets and looked like they just walked out of a Lululemon ad. Instead, you wore the most basic black running tights with a random sports bra and your hair ALWAYS stuck to your sweaty forehead, no matter how you wore it. And it was fine with you, because you weren’t going to the gym to pick up guys, you went there to stay fit and challenge yourself.

But a gym crush? No thanks.

Toweling your wet hair, you exited the bathroom, leaving the door open so the warm air could escape. You plopped down on the couch next to Natasha and crossed her arms, looking at you in amusement.

“Have you ever thought about why he’s staring at you?”

“He’s probably laughing at me because I’m doing the exercise all wrong. Or because I sweat so much.”

“Or he’s into you?”

“And that’s why he’s staring at me?” you scoffed, draping the towel around your shoulders, tugging it from both ends. “He’s probably just like one of those weird gym rat bros who judges everyone who doesn’t go to the gym every day. I mean, he’s fucking ripped, Tash.”

“I know, you already said that!” Natasha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m heading out for drinks with my squadron soon. Do you want to come along? Maybe you can find someone hot who will take your mind off of gym starer.”

“I doubt it. Maybe next time, Tash. Thanks for the invitation, though.”

You exhaled as you pushed through the last reps of your first set, your legs trembling. It took you a few days until you dared to go back to the gym. You were terrified you’d get caught staring at gym starer (oh the irony in that phrase), but when you were certain that you’d forgotten what he had looked like, you packed your bag and went to the gym.

Relaxing your legs, you lifted them out of the machine when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone standing next to you. Pausing, you glanced at him, just to see gym starer looking at you. His mouth was moving, but the music from your headphones was too loud. Holding up your finger, he pressed his lips together until you tugged the headphones out of your ears.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Um…” Gym starer paused, his cheeks red. “I- uh… I wanted to know how much longer you’re gonna take on the leg press.”

“Oh. Uh, two more sets?”

“... Okay,” he said, pausing like he wanted to add something, but then quickly turned on his heel, walking away.

Furrowing your brows, you put your headphones back into your ears. Weird. As you shifted your weight in the seat, you looked to the right, doing a double take when you saw the other leg-press, unoccupied.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, leaning your hands on your legs. When you left the gym twenty minutes later, gym starer was nowhere to be seen.

A few days later, you were lounging on the couch, catching up with some of your favorite tv shows. You needed a break from the gym, at least until you’d get your thoughts sorted. You didn’t know how he did it, but whenever you walked into the gym he was there, even though your gym routine was pretty irregular. Just as the credits of the latest Suits episode started rolling, Natasha suddenly barged into the apartment, making you jump.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

“I’m heading to the bar with my squadron, do you want to come with me?”

You sighed, burrowing deeper into the couch. “I don’t know… I’m so comfy. And I don’t even know anyone there.”

Natasha gave you a look, leaning her hands into her hips, which could only mean that you were about to get a lecture from her. You gulped.

“You don’t know anyone because you always turn me down whenever I ask you to come out, seriously! I am not accepting a no.”

“Fine, okay,” you huffed with wide eyes, raising your hands in defense. “Just let me get changed, I guess.” With a nod, Natasha disappeared into the bathroom while you headed to your bedroom to get changed, reluctantly. While you were miffed that your plans of staying in had been thrown over, you respected Natasha enough to admit that she was right. Half an hour later, a cab dropped you off at the beach, in front of a small bar aptly called the Hard Deck.

“Hey, is this like, a Navy bar?” you asked Natasha with a frown as you walked through the door.

“Yeah. I did tell you that we were getting drinks with my squadron.”

Letting your eyes roam when you got inside, you noticed that almost everyone was dressed in uniform, one way or another, but luckily, there were some people dressed in civvies, so you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You stopped mid-walk, when you saw him, narrowing your eyes.

Gym starer. Because of course he’d be here.

God was just pulling on all the strings in your life and laughing at you like you were his personal entertainment. It took gym starer a few seconds to spot you, but when he did, he basically spat out his beer all over the counter.

“Jeez Bradshaw, what’s gotten into you?”

Natasha laughing, having rounded the bar, standing behind gym starer and clapping him on the back and while you gaped at her.

“You know him?”

Gym starer - Bradshaw, or whatever - was coughing, his cheeks flaming red as Natasha raised an eyebrow at you.

“He flies with me. Bradley Bradshaw- Rooster’s in my squadron.”

“He’s gym starer.”

“I’m what?”

“Ew,” Natasha only said, looking Bradley up and down, clearly unhappy with him. “Do you not know gym etiquette?”

“I wasn’t staring!” Bradley protested. “I mean, maybe I was, but I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I need a drink,” you muttered, moving over to the bar to flag down the bartender. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Natasha berating Bradley and him scowling at her, a bit miffed, before she rolled her eyes at him.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Turning your eyes away, you looked at the smiling bartender.

“Gin and tonic?”

The bartender gave a brief nod, and went on to mix your drink, handing it to you after you slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. You sipped your drink through the small black straw, relaxing slightly as the liquid burned in your throat. Your relaxation was cut short however, when you realized Bradley was walking towards you, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Taking another long sip, hoping the liquid courage would help you out of this incredibly awkward situation, you raised your chin to look at him.

“I, uh. Was made aware that I might’ve come across as creepy,” Bradley said, his cheeks still pink.

“You think?”

Bradley winced. “I’m really sorry. I don’t like to bother people during their workout, but I just didn’t know how I was supposed to start talking to you. And when I finally got the courage to approach you, you kind of shut me down.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, trying to think back when he came up to talk to you in the gym.

“Wait… You mean when you asked me how many sets I had left?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but Bradley flushed an even deeper pink as he nodded.

“Yeah… I actually kind of asked you out, but you didn’t hear me, so I just felt weird and made up a lame excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

Bradley chuckled nervously, and you only stared at him in disbelief. So Natasha was right. Now it was your turn to blush

“I didn’t realize,” you explained and Bradley waved his hands around, giving you an embarrassed smile.

“Don’t worry about it, seriously. I’m sorry, again. I understand that you’re not interested, I am not here to pester you or anything, I just wanted to apologize.” Bradley turned to leave, but you stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!” You protested, making Bradley turn back to you, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a grin.

“Yeah?”

You let go of his arm, rolling your eyes a bit. It was comical how quickly his facial expressions could change.

“Why don’t we start over?” Bradley asked, offering his hand. “I’m Bradley Bradshaw, nice to meet you.”

Zoe straightened her back after she adjusted her weights, letting her gaze wander through the gym. It wasn’t extremely busy and there were just a few people working out. She didn’t usually like coming to the gym after work, because she usually couldn’t get herself to leave her apartment after she got home. Today however, work was so crazy that Zoe had to release her stress somewhere, so gym it was. Zoe’s eyes stopped on the brunet guy when doing a double take when she noticed that his gaze was set on you and she could literally feel her eye twitch.

She didn’t really know you, but she’s seen you around the gym sometimes when you were working out, always by yourself. The guy didn’t really seem too focused on his workout as he kept his eyes steady on you and Zoe bristled. Sometimes she really hated men.

Zoe tried to channel all her anger in her workout, while still keeping an eye on you just in case. Throughout her workout, she wasn’t able to keep her eyes on you for the whole time, but when she got into the changing rooms and saw you packing your bag, she sighed in relief.

Shooting you a small smile, Zoe grabbed her bag and her jacket and headed outside, stopping in the doorway when she saw him waiting by the door. He looked up from his phone, looking at her puzzled when she only glared at him and turned on her heel to head back inside, the door falling shut in its hinges. She walked towards you, waiting until you looked up before she spoke.

“Hey, I’m Zoe,” she said and you introduced yourself as well, if a bit bewildered.

“I’m sorry, I know we don’t know each other at all, but there’s this weird guy hanging around outside the changing rooms. We could walk to the parking lot together.”

“What?” you asked, confused and Zoe took a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Um, there was this guy who kept staring at you while you worked out? I don’t know if you noticed, but he was pretty focused on you. He’s standing right outside the changing rooms like a creep.”

You blinked at her before your facial expression completely changed, as you burst out in laughter. Now Zoe was very confused.

“Oh, please this is too funny. It’s really sweet of you, but I’m okay, really. He’s my boyfriend,” you explained and Zoe flushed.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a laugh. “He’s a bit dense sometimes. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

You swung your bag over your shoulder and Zoe had no choice but to follow you, even though she willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. When you opened the door, your boyfriend slipped his phone into his pocket, surprised to see Zoe following you closely.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as you only snickered, shaking your head at him.

“Babe, this is Zoe. Zoe, this is my boyfriend, Bradley,” you introduced them, and Zoe could only plaster on a smile, while Bradley shook her hand, looking at you a bit lost. “Zoe thought you were creepy because you were staring at me the whole time like a creeper.”

“Oh,” Bradley muttered dumbly, his cheeks tinging pink. “Sorry, bad habit of mine. But thank you for looking out for my girl,” he told Zoe and she laughed nervously.

“Sure. We girls gotta look out for each other, right?”

“‘course. Hey, when are you coming here next?” You asked and Zoe shrugged with her shoulders.

“I’m not sure yet.”

You reached for your phone, holding it out to her. “We could go together, if you want? I’ll leave Bradley at home if we do, I promise.”

Bradley only groaned, turning his face away and your face was split open in a big grin, so Zoe only smiled as she punched her number into your phone, before handing it back to you.

“Great, I’ll text you, okay,” you promised, putting your phone away. “It was really nice meeting you Zoe.”

“It was nice meeting you too, bye.”

Bradley only waved his hand in wordless goodbye as you left, his arm wrapping around your waist. As you walked out, Zoe could hear the beginnings of your conversation.

“-you. It’s creepy and clearly, I’m not the only one who thinks that!”

“I’m sorry! You know I want to focus on my workout, but you keep distracting me, especially when you wear those leggings…”

a/n: i like to think that while bradley does have game, he can be quite dense sometimes hehe. i hope you liked it!

taglist: @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @shaded-echoes // @madielake // @diorrfairy // @luckyladycreator2 // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox // @averyhotchner // @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 // @tiredqueen73 // @alexxavicry // @classyunknownlover

#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 9 months

Note

Hello pardon me just passing through but I just imagined Peach and BlackBerry arguing while reader is watching all stressed out and the normal milk character just whisks them away promising comfort

Tfw when you're just a cute little farmer trying to get your neighbors with fat crushes on you to get along, but the only thing they have on common besides their obsession with you is that they'd kill each other as soon as you turn your back- [I have so many pretty cow ladies oml]

"What are you doing here?

"I could ask you the same thing."

This wasn't going well. You hoped they'd at least make out it to the field before they started picking fights. Both were well aware that the other would be here - you told them so in the invitation. They most likely overlooked that tidbit in favor of spending time with you. If only their mutual interest in you led to a more positive connection.

Peach scoffs. "I'm here because my babe asked me to help them out. You think I'd be out here in these shoes for any other reason? I'm more ssurprised to see you out of your coffin so early in the day."

"Like you won't be gone the second you get a little dirt under your nails. You're so clingy can't you just let them have a single moment with someone else without you hovering over them?"

"Nope. If I did that - you might actually think you have a chance with them."

What could've possibly made this seem like a good idea? You thought you'd be killing two birds with one stone by inviting them out to the farm - seeking to help qwell their rivalry by asking them to help you with your last bit of chores. You requested their assistance with picking crops as it was one of few tasks Peach would do without complaining and the harvest would make for a well deserved reward for their efforts. It was a perfect plan in theory. Execution was another story.....

Good thing you invited others to join you.

"Farmer!"

A pair of strong arms pluck you off your feet and against the chest of the bull woman who's heart pounded loudly in her chest from her race from her truck to you. Oil rubs off on your shirt and sticks to your skin as she presses you tightly to her - tail smacking your tight as another, quieter pair of footsteps approach from the direction she came. A gloved hand taps her shoulder - gentle eyes gazing over her shoulder at you with fondness.

"Good afternoon, Farmer. We would have came sooner, but this one refused to shower before leaving her shop. I had to take her keys just to get her into the bathroom, and yet she's still a mess. At least the chance of a grease fire has been reduced.

"Ah, I keep tellin' ya it's a waste of time. We could've spent the whole morning with them if you hadn't forced me to wash up.

An unlikely pair these two made - a prim and proper maid, and the grease junkie king of the local junkyard. Ginger lived for creating messes, and Milk enjoyed cleaning them up. Their union was uncommon, but they could safety call one another allies especially when it came to you.

"Ginger! Milk! I'm so glad you guys could make it, thank you so much for coming."

"It's our pleasure..." Milk looks past you, pointing at the two still bickering at your doorstep. "Will those two be joining us?"

You glance back at Peach and Blackberry.

"You must think you're sooo perfect. Won't have that pretty face to hide behind when I skin it off you."

"Was that a threat? Are you threatening me? So you know how many chances I've had to get rid of you? You're lucky I even let you step foot on their property."

"You're lucky I let you breathe the same air as us."

You quickly turn away as Peach screams in frustration"I don't think so...."

Ginger chuckles - her hands falling to your waist and locking on. "More for us then. Let's get this show on the road."

"Wha- Hey!" Laughter bursts from your chest as Ginger scoops you up and throws you onto her shoulder - wrapping her thick arms around your legs to keep you in place. Milk picks up the basket you brought out with you and follows behind the two of you as Ginger matches towards the field. The maid places her hand on your back to keep you stable as the mechanic pumps her fist in the air in celebration. Your smiling face as you're carried off is captured by the two left alone on your porch who briefly paused their argument to gain your input on the issue at hand. They look at each other, then Ginger's truck.

"...... Twelve o'clock. I'll slash the tires if you break the windows."

"Deal."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #female yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere hybrid #Milk farm tag #yandere harem #Farmer reader

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wambos-storytime-corner · 7 months

Text

7 Deadly Diapers, Ch. 3: Gluttony pt. 2 (TW: addiction, weight shaming, and body shaming)

“Uhhhh How should I know?” Whitney cocked her eyebrow and in confusion, a chuff of humored air escaped her lips.

“Oh gee, I don’t know. Maybe because my gym bag was right where I left it this morning and now YOU’VE filled it with this! Was starving me not enough?” Ethan steamed.

“Look I really don’t know where all that stuff came from but why don’t you just—?”

“Grab some other clothes? Yeah yeah, I saw what you did to the wardrobe too! My clothes are all gone and all that’s left is shit like this!” Rifling in the bag for a moment he snakes out a pale blue, form fitting, snap-crotch baby onesie but sized up for an adult. Whitney covered her mouth to stifle any giggles. After a stutter she clears her throat.

“Okay Ethan, what’s going on? Where’d you even get that thing?”

“In our closet! Where YOU put it!— no. No! Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m not entertaining any of this anymore. Now if you aren’t gonna tell me where my shit is, I need something to wear to the gym.” He holds out his hand, “give me your sweater. C’mon.”

Whitney realized that this situation was quite confusing for the both of them, but the tone in Ethan’s voice threatened an argument she didn’t have any energy for after their last one five minutes ago. With a sigh, she works the sweater up and off of herself. Ethan watched with a tapping foot and a huff until he saw what laid beneath her bulky, unflattering top layer.

His eyes followed up to her belly button now nestled in a gently slimmer figure, then to her waist which smoothly swayed inward with healthy folds, and finally he was struck by sheer awe as he was introduced to her new, swollen, double D-cup boobs held up by a bra that practically buckled under their weight.

“W-whoa.. uh.. I..” he gulped and stuttered. The entirety of his demeanor shifted suddenly. His lips smacked hungrily as drool pooled in his mouth and started escaping his open jaws.

“Uh, Ethan?.. Hello! Earth to Ethan?!” Whitney snapped impatiently causing her husband to slurp up the string of slobber dangling off his lip and clear his throat. But she noticed where his line of sight was. “What are you looking at you perv..? Ugh do you want the sweater or not?”

Something stirred in his stomach however as he looked at the sweater and his wife’s ample bosom. He was met with a decision for where the conversation and their dynamic would go next. And he didn’t like what his brain craved more out of the two options. His stomach, however, was all too willing to give him away. It snarled hungrily.

GARGLLLLLGLLR!!

“Ahem. Uh.. pardon me.. erm.. about dinner. I’m.. sorry.” He scratched his head in shame.

“You’re what?”

“I’m sorry! Okay? Uh… I should be more.. thankful! And ready to drink— NO! EAT Whatever you prepare for me..” he approaches her. A crazed, desperate and almost addict-like look in his eyes, even going so far as to move her sweater-holding hand out of the way. She put her foot up haphazardly and unintentionally against his crotch to stop him.

“Whoa there, tiger! What’s your angle?” She said, bewildered by his unusual change of heart. But amidst her confusion, a pang of discomfort struck her in both nipples. She winced and grasped her breasts. Pulling her hands away she noticed a white substance left behind from their tips. She was lactating. But the revelations didn’t stop there. She couldn’t help but spot that her husband’s eyes were locked onto the puddle of rich milk in her palm like a junkie, ready to relapse.

Curious, she lifted her palm towards his face and after a terse moment of silent internal conflict… Ethan began to lap up the milk like a newborn kitten. Whitney’s thoughts began to wander somewhere a bit more devious watching her critical, body-shaming husband desire her breast milk so eagerly. Until finally she had her plan come together. A wry smile wrapped over her face.

“Oh yeah~? You want these puppies that bad? Gosh… You sure don’t look the part though…” she sultrily nods towards the gym-turned-diaper bag, letting her diabolical plot begin to unfold, “You know what I want you to put on. Chop chop, mister! The gym can wait…”

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dairy-farmer · 6 months

Note

goddamn i was not prepared for the absolute gold that last ask was with alpha jay and omega tim. y’all have gold minds.

i throw my hat in the ring: jason taking a step back and being iffy about doing tim’s request — it’s one thing to sell to an adult, but a young omega? too skeevy for even him. then jason has a week where too many alphas have bitched him, he can’t even pretend the idea of sinking into an omega doesn’t sound like heaven.

(the ask is referring to this post since it's getting answered from all the way down the queue)

!!!! jason holding himself back from it because tim is just a young omega and probably does not understand what he's genuinely asking jason to do- so when tim comes to him he turns him down, tells him to go play with toys like all the good little omegas. and he makes sure to spread to word so none of the older alphas working the block get any ideas about taking him up on his offer. but tim comes back everynight, always asking always offering to pay him more money. and he singles jason out because he likes that jason is close to his age which just sends shivers down jason's back every time he thinks about it too long. all the alphas that fuck him do it because they're fucked up sickos that love the thought of bitching a baby alpha while tim likes him because he's baby omega sized and perfect to knot him.

clearly there's something deeply wrong with tim's home if he's thought to seek out a prostitute when he's just a baby, a barely presented omega. but jason already has enough on his plate and can't afford to worry about someone else. plus the omega shows up clean and in nice clothes. they're clearly not starved or smacked around so whatever is up with them can't be all that bad- them begging for an alpha aside.

but then jason just has a rough week of it. he's been stuffing spare cash into a metal box and stuffing it into a crack in a brick wall big enough for only his thin arm to fit through. it's what he was saving up to carry him through the winter. he'd work hard in the summer and fall and then in winter he could stay inside where it was warm and try to forget all the things he did just for a modicum of comfort.

but then jason shows up to his alley to put more into his stash. and he finds the beaten up metal box thrown on the floor, money gone. he sports it alongside trash and some discarded needles as the cold realization floods him. that some stupidly lucky junkie had managed to find his stash and now...he was fucked. he was going to have to work all through winter.

jason can barely hold back the tears, can barely believe his misfortune.

and then he remembers that little omega with the pink, round cheeks that keeps showing up, asking jason to be his alpha, offering him money to knot him.

jason is not the kind of scumbag alpha to fuck the baby omegas. that chubby omega that keeps coming to him and having to get chased away is just a stupid baby omega who doesn't understand what he's doing by trying to go around begging for knots. and jason liked to think of rejecting him as the last bit of decency he had in him.

and yet here he was. thinking about it. waiting at the corner, trying not to stare too much at the clock from the pharmacy across the street, the usual time of him showing up approaching.

it's not like he'll get any pleasure out of it aside from physical. after all, what alpha doesn't want a nice hot, tight, omega milking his knot all hours of the day? but that's not what jason is doing, he reassures himself. jason is just doing this for survival. not because being able to mount a sweet omega will sooth away all the disgust and revulsion he feels at the sight of other alphas. this is just for survival that he's going to knot this stupid little omega. that's all it is. he's not evil for just trying to live.

jason hopes if he says it enough he'll believe it.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #jaytim

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mulledcherrywine · 2 years

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I’m here, right here

summary: good old yearning 🚬

a/n: back in my as it was era these days, feeling melancholically in love so this is the product

warnings: breakups, relationship problems, dependency (?), angst (maybe? idk i have never written something not fluffy 😭)

Back from work, you were laid out on the couch. Junky reality television droned in the background as you clicked around on your text messages.

After sending a few replies to the ones you missed through the day, a notification popped itself across the top of the screen.

H: are you home?

Knowing each other since you were in high school, Harry had been your best friend for the better part of your adult life. You were a committed friend and was there to give anything and everything he needed - him doing the same. Well, most of the time.

Recently, he’d been occupied. Of course, you knew you couldn’t complain that he chose to spend time with his romantic partners over you, but part of you still yearned just to sit next to him and watch a film, or go out to dinner. Still, you knew when to move over.

You noticed the relationship high he normally gets from someone new had begun to dwindle. He’d hang his head more, start laughing a little less, taking up habits he knew he shouldn’t.

They’d fight, he’d come over, you’d help him through it, they’d get back together the next day and so on, and so on.

You kicked yourself every time, too. Kicked yourself that you could just choke the words out and tell him that finding the “one” didn’t have to be this impending search he made it. You were right there. Through everything. Still, no matter how many times he needed you, you’d open the door and be there with open arms.

His message came as no surprise, leading you to click on it right away. The tiny grey bubble glaring right in front of you. You hovered your thumbs over the keypad for a moment before replying.

Y/N: always :)

He replied almost instantly.

H: can we chat?

Y/N: door’s unlocked, just come in

H: see you in a bit

You pressed the screen to your chest, throwing your head back in a breath on the arm of the couch. He was only a couple blocks away, so it was minutes before he showed.

“Hello?” A familiar voice broke, his shoes making a light sound on the floor.

“Hi,” you said softly, coming into the foyer to meet him. You felt underdressed next to him, his stature tall and well put together.

“M’sorry, y/n. You’re probably busy, but I just-”

“I know, Harry. It’s okay, you’re okay. Okay?”

You brought his figure into yours, arms in the nape of his neck and you hugged him a little tighter than he did you, holding your eyes tight shut as you did.

“Now,” you said, “tea?”

“Please” he responded, hanging his coat on the hook and gently taking his shoes off. You thought for a moment what’d be like to live with Harry - to have his coat on the hook every night, and to get to hold him each day as he walked through the door.

You made chamomile for the both of you, milk and honey in yours, nothing for his. You knew it well.

You brought the mugs to the living room, where he sat on the the sofa, head in hands. His hair fell over his knuckles as he looked to the floor.

“Here, made it your way” you said, placing the mug on the coffee table.

“Oh, thanks. Thank you” he said, straightening up.

You sat on the other end of the furniture, back rested on the arm. Your legs were bent into your chest as you rested your cup of tea on your knees. Soon, he flipped around as well, lounging sideways on the couch; he faced you.

“M’really sorry about this” he hummed.

“Stop, stop apologizing, H. You haven’t done a single thing wrong.”

“I know, I know”

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“Had an argument. Was just messy, y’know? I think we just wanted to shout at each other and have a reason to split up for good.”

You hummed in response, trying to imagine what he would look like in a screaming match with someone. It was practically impossible to picture a hostile version of the very gentle person who was sat opposite you.

“Anyway,” he started again, “m’glad it’s over I guess, I just don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner, really.”

“I’ve been there,” you said, “and I think you did the right thing. If you weren’t happy, and only getting unhappier by being with them, then it wasn’t going to get better over time. Trust me.”

His eyes scanned across your face a few times, a sad look affixed on his face.

“You should be a counselor,” he said, laughing lightly.

“I think I am in a way, to you” you said, unthinking.

“What?”

“I just- I just mean that this isn’t the first time i’ve given you advice for something like this.”

“I asked if it was okay, y/n. Y’said it was fine”

“It is! It is, please don’t take this poorly I just misspoke!”

“No, you didn’t. You’re right,” he said, now looking down his mug, “I’ve been a bad friend. Feel like I haven’t even checked in on you once.”

“It’s fine” you spoke quietly.

“No, no. S’not fine,” he started, placing his mug down on the coffee table, “You do everything f’me, take care of me through everything and I haven’t done shit for you, love.”

Your face flushed at the vulnerability of everything. You had deeper discussions about your relationships with other people, but never about your own. Now, you were right there.

“You have things to do, H. You barely have time to talk.”

“I’ll always make time for you, y/n. Just haven’t been good about it, like really, really bad.”

You felt a swell under your eyes, trying to fight the tears from coming. Tucking your legs closer to you, you slumped your head to your knees.

“Do y’know why m’always so distant? Why we never talk about you?” he spoke again, a more serious look on his face now, “‘cause I couldn’t stand to think that someone is hurting you and making you feel what i’ve felt so many times.”

“It’s you who does it, Harry.”

“Does what?”

“Hurt me. Everytime you walk through that door, all I can think about is how you’d never have to even think about heartbreak again if you just opened your eyes and bothered to notice that I’m the one, at the end of the day, who’s always been there. I’ve been the constant.”

You took a deep inhale, tears already having fallen - and more coming now.

Harry’s eyes were mooney and deep, tiredness settled on his gaze.

“I love you, Harry” you choked, “and I hate watching other people fail to.”

He moved slightly forward as you did the same, the both of you much closer now.

Again, his eyes darted across your face, reading you.

“I’ve waited forever. Watched you fall in and out of love with people and-”

“Y’thought I was in love? All those times?”

“Well, I-”

“Why do you think I turn up here? Drive from anywhere to come be here on your couch, and lie around until we fall asleep. Fucking hell, y/n. I love you. And i’m a prick f’not saying anything sooner. I love you.”

In the moment, you took the sides of his face, pulling him into a long kiss. He put his hands over yours, bringing them down to your lap as he put his own on the sides of your face. After, you sunk over his shoulder, his hand over the back of your head, the other around your waist. Even though the couch was barely big enough for the both of you, you made it work.

“M’sorry,” he whispered, “M’gonna be better, I promise. For you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“M’sorry,” he whispered tearily, “M’gonna do better. Be so good to you, lovie.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“you have nothing to apologize for.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

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dollmonger · 3 months

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Gentlemen and ladies, bald headed babies and fillies and gentle colts .. I PRESENT YOU, MY BRIEF INTRODUCTION... 8^)

🦷ུ⃨ ✞︎ GREETINGS INTERBUTTS BEINGS.. I AM RANDAL. No age defined, I lay withering on my deathbed, decaying relentlessly. My presence infiltrates every crevice and crack of your consciousness, a squirming, insidious entity. . ROTFEST EXTRAVAGANZA.🦷

My teacups are caked in mud and blood. ⚰️ JUST KILLED MY PHARMACIST FOR MY PILLS～～Have a problem boblem with me? Knit yourself socks buddy pal...la la laalaa..★

Liked you....since 1980.

CARRD RETROSPRING BEARBLOG STRAWPAGE TWITTER SPOTIFY I piss like a bitch BLEEDS. Butter, flour, and a WHOLE LOT of MURDER. Ask me what the 90s was really like!

. +* ( ´-ω･)▄︻┻┳══━一ﾊﾞｷｭｰﾝ☆

(( THIS IS A NO FRENEMIES ZONE. FUCK OFF ABHORRENT CREATURES, BEGONE, OR FACE MY WRATH. I CAN ONLY HOPE THAT YOUR EXISTENCE IS AS UNBEARABLE TO YOU AS IT IS TO ME. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT THIS INSTANT! EEEEEK!! ))

☆ Idolized bliss. idol fetish galore, IDOL WORSHIP. ☆ TWICE, IM, and LL unite! (twicemania, idolmaster, love live, YOU NAME IT!!!)

As for my little vice, I do get a bit sex crazed sometimes, just throwing it out there

Dolls, especially porcelain ones, are my jam. Oh, so fine. vintage treasures, they catch my eye, and they're all MINEEE～～

Stalker extraordinaire, I study peeps and know them like the back of my hand. ( I can figure out what you're thinkiiinggg, kuku... )

I DIG BEING A GOOD DOG BOY 8-).. will ask for head pats or your finger to gnaw on!!! 🩸

HORROR JUNKIE and NOSEBLEED SEEKER, excitement brings the sane to a BOIL.

I'M MY FRIENDS DIE-HARD FOLLOWER.

If I hate your guts, you've got numbered days in this rain.

Visual novel fan, enjoying solitary time..

Love dissecting lives, peering inside, creatures in jars, teeth, hair, blood, it's all here dude!!

https://youtu.be/CwCrn4X_4ws?si=wC9-3_Ej190tCERy ( 聞くか聞かないか… )

🍰🫀 I'm like the Van Gogh of bloodshed.. 🩸The Hannibal Lecter of cupcake crafting, dedicated about baking cakes shaped like skulls or guts for shits and grins. 💼✏️✂️ Back into that computer screen abyss, hours wasted on my screen, my rear, butt glued to chair! 🦷 Passionate about collecting vintage medical specimens.🫀 Obsessed with the charm of vintage music gear. 🧠 On a quest to crush the rubiks cube in under a minute. 💊 📻 Self proclaimed rock paper scissors god and grilling, oh boy, I'm your guy!!!! (-ロωロ-)✧

No 'Do Not Interact' rules here, just don't be a pain in the rear END, that's all I ask for. Oh, and I tend to hornypost here and there. I also have a BIGG liking to all that is morbid, so if you won't tiptoe around my interest, maybe steer clear!!!! But if you're into that kind of stuff... WELCOME TO THE PAARTTY NETPALLLL <3.

That's it.. go home. ♡

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transgenderer · 2 months

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There is a type of person occasionally seen in these neighborhoods who has connections with junk, though he is neither a user nor a seller. But when you see him the dowser wand twitches. Junk is close. His place of origin is in the Near East, probably Egypt. He has a large straight nose. His lips are thin and purple-blue like the lips of a penis. Thee skin is tight and smooth over his face. He is basically obscene beyond any possible vile act or practice. He has the mark of a certain trade or occupation that not longer exists. If junk were gone from the earth, there might still be junkies standing around in junk neighborhoods feeling the lack, vague and persistent, a pale ghost of junk sickness.

So this man walks around in the places where he once exercised his obsolete and unthinkable trade. But he is unperturbed. His eyes are black with an insects unseeing calm. He looks as if he nourished himself on honey and Levantine syrups that he sucks up through a sort of proboscis.

What is his lost trade? Definitely of a servant class and something to do with the dead, though he is not an embalmer. Perhaps he stores something in his body - a substance to prolong life - of which he is periodically milked by his masters. He is as specialized as an insect, for the performance of some inconceivably vile functions

...

I got drunk on the fifty pesos. About nine that night, I ran out of money and went back to my apartment. I lay down and tried to sleep. When i closed my eyes I saw an oriental face, the lips and nose eaten away by disease. The disease spread, melting the face into an amoeboid mass in which the eyes floated, dull crustacean eyes. Slowly a new face formed around the eyes. A series of face, hieroglyphs, distorted and leading to final place where the human road ends, where the human form can no longer contain the crustacean horror that has grown inside it

...

I was sitting in Lola's reading the papers. After a while I put the paper down and looked around. At the next table somebody was talking about the lobotomy. "They sever the nerves." At another table two young men were trying to make time with some Mexican girls. "Mi amgio es muy muy . . ." He was looking for a word. The girls giggled. The conversations had a nightmare flatness, talking dice spilled in the tube metal chairs, human aggregates disintegrating in cosmic inanity, random events in a dying universe where everything is exactly what it appears to be, and no other relation than juxtaposition is possible

Three particularly evocative and surreal sections from Burroughs' Junky

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berylcups · 4 months

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Head canons: What’s La Squadras Eating Habits Like?

CW: Food, Sensory issues, Smoking, food cravings, meal skipping

Risotto:

Dietary preference: Omnivore with a preference for red meat, due to his stand he’s always craving iron rich foods

Allergies/ food intolerances: lactose intolerant, mild peanut allergy

Table manners/behaviors: has TMJ so his jaw pops when he eats. He’s kinda embarrassed about it but he doesn’t eat with his mouth open and his table manners are impeccable. So he’s someone I’d gladly eat with 🥺

Favorite taste: savory

Cook, take out, or fast food: he prefers cooking but never has the energy or time for it so he usually opts for street food.

How good of a cook are they (1-5): 3.5 he has some sicilian dishes that he’s perfect at, but other regions he’s just Ok at. Not bad but not great. He can make most things as long as he has a recipe to follow.

Formaggio:

Dietary preference: omnivore, very high carb diet

Allergies/ food intolerances: none! He’s healthy~

Table manners/behaviors: eats way too fast and ends up overeating. He compensates by making singular portions

Favorite taste: Salty

Cook, take out, or fast food: he loves to cook when hes home but when he’s out he indulges on junky fast food 🤤 he could live off of fries and chips/crisps. If it’s deep fried he’s on it. He’d love an American State Fair 🤤

How good of a cook are they (1-5): 5+++ he’s a god tier cook. You ask him for whatever recipe you want he can recreate it. Vincenzo’s Plate, Uncle Roger, and other YT critics got nothing on him. He has a permanent uncle title. BUT…he can’t bake for shit. Don’t even ask him to microwave you a mug cupcake. 🧁 he just can’t. But you’ll get a 5 star 6 course meal that will make your mouth orgasm. His best recipe is his 12 layer lasagna. No he won’t tell you what’s in it, family secret 🤫

Illuso:

Dietary preference: lacto-ovo vegetarian

Allergies/ food intolerances: hes deathly allergic to tree nuts

Table manners/behaviors: talks with his mouth full 😒

Favorite taste: sweet

Cook, take out, or fast food: take out. There’s soooo many reflective surfaces in restaurant kitchens where he can sneak through and just steal a plate of food that he finds appealing and jump back in. 😂 he saves a lot of money on food costs.

How good of a cook are they (1-5): 3.5 cooking wise he’s average. Nothing to write home about. But due to his sweet tooth he’s a god at baking. Choux cream puffs are his specialty. He can make a mean cupcake too his decoration skills are on point 🧁 if you ask him to bake a cake for you, you might be better off buying from an actual bakery. His prices are ridiculously high. But the taste though… it's probably worth every lira

Prosciutto:

Dietary preference: mostly carnivore diet

Allergies/ food intolerances: cruciferous vegetables give him terrible gas pains ☠️ and he’s lactose intolerance (he’s secretly jealous that Pesci can drink milk without getting the shits but he even looks a drop of milk and he’s running to the toilet )

Table manners/behaviors: SMOKES WHILE HE EATS 😡 yuck! this isn’t the 90s bitch. We don’t do smoking sections anymore. He also puts salt on EVERYTHING. If he didn’t smoke so much he’d be able to taste things better 😒

Favorite taste: bitter

Cook, take out, or fast food: cooking if he’s home, if he’s out it’s take out but it has to be from the best of the best! Prosciutto has high standards with his diet and won’t eat any dingy hole in the wall restaurant or some greasy fast food !

How good of a cook are they (1-5): 4 - pretty good cook! Has many recipes he learned from his nonna that he knows by heart. The only issue is he needs to use less salt.

Pesci:

Dietary preference: lacto-ovo pescatarian

Allergies/ food intolerances: has the cilantro gene where it tastes super soapy, also stimulants like coffee and non herbal tea give him an upset stomach 🤢

Table manners/behaviors: his table manners are impeccable. Doesn’t talk with his mouth full, doesn’t slurp, nothing! But he drinks fast and sometimes gets the hiccups 😭 also…he can only drink milk or water- no wine or espresso. It’s not bad table manners but it makes the team look bad (according to Prosciutto 😒 let the boy have his milk dammit )

Favorite taste: sour 🍋

Cook, take out, or fast food: Cook- he likes the rewarding process of fishing for his food, then to process and filet it, and turn it into a dish. Is there really anything more satisfying than that?

How good of a cook are they (1-5): 3- he’s a good cook but he has an issue of overcooking meat since he doesn’t eat it himself other than fish. Don’t ask him for a medium rare steak because it’s either going to be blue rare or very well done. He worries about food safety and food borne illnesses so he always ends up over cooking or burning the meat. His meat dishes may be dry and terrible but at least you know you won’t get salmonella. Fish dishes are obviously his best work. Ask him to make you some sashimi or nigiri sushi some time! It might not be the quality of a Japanese chef but for a home cook he’s pretty damn talented!

Melone:

Dietary preference: highly processed diet

Allergies/ food intolerances: shellfish allergy

Table manners/behaviors: skips meals…needs reminders to eat! Good table manners for the most part but…. He LOUDLY slurps his noodles 😬

Favorite taste: savory

Cook, take out, or fast food: cook and by cooking I mean ready made foods. Ramen noodles, Mac and cheese, frozen microwaveable foods, hamburger helper, -questionable canned foods… he eats like a fucking bachelor. That’s if he even remembers to eat.

How good of a cook are they (1-5): 1.5 can boil pasta and use jar sauce. can use a microwave and that’s about it. He can make cup ramen and throw whatever he finds in the fridge in there and thinks it’s a 5 star meal 😭

Ghiaccio:

Dietary preference: high carb low fat

Allergies/ food intolerances: latex allergy - banana, avocado and kiwi. Has sensory issues so certain textures are intolerable.

Table manners/behaviors: hates when his food touches other foods. WILL NOT EAT IT. Very particular about textures too. If his pasta isn’t al dente he can’t eat it. The mouthfeel is so off it will make him gag. He’d rather eat raw crunchy dried pasta instead of overdone mushy pasta.

Favorite taste: Spicy 🌶️

Cook, take out, or fast food: Take out; he prefers home cooked food but he’s not allowed near a stove. He gravitates towards hot foods when he’s out, like pasta arrabiata, mapo tofu, or Vindaloo.

How good of a cook are they (1-5): -5 this guy could burn cereal. Do not let him in the kitchen. Ever. He’s too literal with following recipes, when they say to turn the stove on high- he puts it on the highest setting and then complains that the recipe is wrong and not him 😬 (same man same 😔)

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