#I love cheese biscuits face

[renee-writer]

Her, I love cheese biscuits, face

[contlis12]

Male Feedee and Genderless Feeder dark feederism short story

Cole groggily came to feelings his feeder lifting his legs with the straps they had installed in the bedroom after Cole had passed the 550 pound mark and changing and cleaning was becoming more of an issue. Pushing the massive parachute sized white underwear half way up his thighs ready to squeeze them past his sagging hips when they finally got him standing. As his feeder was slipping on his bariatric soft socks over his plump feet Cole asked almost nervously “why are you dressing me already? I haven’t even had my first feeding yet” his feeder just chuckled sweetly. “Oh we are going to do your breakfast out on the couch today, you are going to need the energy you’ll be busy today” they said rubbing lotion into the crevasses of Coles fat struggling to keep him from getting any bed rash or chub rub spending so long in bed and being so unhealthy and massively fat. Coles walk or more accurately waddle to the living room couch was eventful to say the least at one point Cole had broken down in tears begging to go to back to bed and that he couldn’t make it to the couch and had to be taken in his bariatric wheel chair the rest of the way to the couch. “There piggy I know this was hard and you are really cranky from being hungry so I’m going to make sure your belly is aching after this feast and you feel all better baby” and they weren’t exaggerating. Giant bowls heaped to the top with gravy and biscuits, greasy hashbrowns swimming in ketchup, even glazed doughnuts with slices of American cheese melted on the top of them. Coles feeder loved listening to him retch in pain so full his stomach is screaming to expel the food to make room and then greedily scarfing down the next bite making guttural gulping and snorts as he loses control plunging his mouth into the greasy low quality slop he’s been conditioned to love. After what seemed like hours Coles feeder had considered it satisfactory and let the pig stop eating and left in a messy ketchup and gravy covered mess. Grinning they came over and softly rubbed the sagging slab of fat that Coles gut had grown into a huge stretch mark covered waterfall of fat going nearly to his knees. “That’s such a good job piggy, I’m glad you ate plenty so you have the energy to entertain your friends tonight”. 

Coles already thudding heart started racing even faster as his food fogged brain started to realize what his feeder had just said. “Whu-what do you mean?” Cole stammered looking down at his feeder now with their head resting on his stomach looking  sweetly up at him. “Oh I invited your friends out to finally visit with you again, they all missed you so much so I kept up with them for you and set up a surprise visit honey” Coles mouth dropped open as he seen the glint in his feeders eyes as they drank in the absolute shock on his face. “I’m tired of you not giving me my due recognition Cole, you lay in my house pigging out all day eating up my money and you’ve never once told anybody how proud you were to be my piggy and grow for me. You try and hide that body I’ve grown and I’m due some respect and you to be a little more grateful” Cole began to let the words tumble out of his still open mouth “I-I-uh” his feeder puts a finger up to his lips. “Don’t speak because I don’t care, you need to learn how to give in this relationship and you are going to start by letting all your friends see what I’ve grown you into and how happy you are that I was kind enough to pick you for all this affection and time”. Cole hoped this was another role play scenario his feeder, there’s no way that this could be real. “They are going to be here in about 15 minutes or less. They texted me they were close to town towards the end of your breakfast. I was hoping to have you better dressed but there’s no way we could even get you into the bathroom that fast much less cleaned up and I need to welcome everyone in since you can’t open the door or really do anything but sit there and eat ofcourse” Coles eyes widened as he looked down and seen his massive exposed food stained body. His underwear were almost completely swallowed by his cascading waterfall of fat his body had turned into, if you didn’t look close you’d assume him nude. “Please you can’t do this to me! I can’t face people I used to know in this state!” Cole wailed eyes streaming tears that mixed with the ketchup staining his bloated fat puffy cheeks. “Oh I can’t? Okay Cole go walk to the bedroom and get yourself dressed” his feeder said coldly armed crossed smiling. “I can’t! You know I can’t!” His feeder walked over looming over him sitting on the couch “exactly so stop telling me what we are going to do piggy! You are going to learn your place, you are out of control princess!” They said grinning ear to ear at this point. “Now beg me, ask me like a pathetic hog since you’ve ate your manners away with your self control”. “Please I’m sorry can I get cleaned up and clothes” he said angry and totally mentally drained at this point knowing this wasn’t going to stop. “No” his feeder immediately replied “you are going to learn to respect me piggy, but I’ll let you have a shirt”.

Coles three closets friends all pilled out of the van they’d rode in from the airport in. “I can’t believe Coles partner paid for all our tickets here and everything! I mean seriously that guy is lucky to have a partner with those kind of expenses.” Mike said to Kayla “Yeah nice house too, must have been an old couples or something before. There aren’t even steps just a wheel chair ramp”. “I’m just glad to see the guy again, it’s been over two years since he moved out here with them and he barely kept touch. Honestly kind of annoying” Danny said following them up the ramp. “Oh stop Danny, you know how life can be. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, at least the old gang is back for a few days!” Kayla said as she rung the door bell on the large oversized double door that seemed way too big for a suburban single level home. Coles feeder answered the door “Hey guys! Hope the flight wasn’t too bad” as they helped them bring everyones bags in. “No not at all, so where’s Cole? I can’t wait to see him!” Kayla said looking at the kitchen that’s as near the entrance to the home. Where those funnels on the wall? Surprising that they are still doing beer bongs at this point but who is Kayla to judge, they all used to party with Cole alot. Coles feeder smiles “oh he’s in the living room watching tv” as she points to the next room. Kayla is the first to walk into the living room and Danny walls face first into her back as she completely stops in her tracks “what the hell Kayla?” He starts to say as he hears Kayla say “Cole? Cole?” And I raspy breathy voice responds “yea hi Kayla” Danny peers around her shoulders to see Cole and nearly drops his jaw on the floor as he accidentally lets a “oh my god” without even realizing he had said it out loud. Looking at what he is told is his old friend he can’t believe it. He wasn’t even sure if the thing melting into that couch was male. Coles huge stretch mark stomach hung obscenely out of the too small shirt his feeder had pulled over his torso that barley even covered his belly button. “Yeah I kind of gained a lot of weight” Cole said staring down at the floor to embarrassed to even meet his friends eyes “uhh yeah you’ve gained some weight” Mike said finally after standing silently behind the other two “are you doing okay buddy?” He said walking towards the pile of fat that spilled off the sagging couch. “Yeah I just have a- I have an eating disorder I think” he said nervously. His feeder stepped into the room behind them “Cole has had some issues in the past we are trying to work on and even spoke about this morning but let’s not worry about that now. You guys are old friends! Sit down please you guys need to catch up!” Coles feeder said putting a hand on Mikes shoulder “he always talked about you guys so much”. The three friends looked at each other concerned before Mike spoke up “ofcourse no need to dwell on this negative stuff I’m just happy we are all together. It’s always good to see old friends”.

The evening had gone well until the pizza Coles feeder had ordered had arrived. His feeder had came in the room with a tv tray and a few boxes of pizza as they started laying slice after slice of pizza in a large dinner bowl. “I got you the extreme pepperoni lovers with extra extra cheese you like honey, I know you are starving. Let me get your ranch” coming in the room with a huge bottle of ranch Coles friends stare in amazement as Coles feeder starts squirting messy cup fulls of ranch all over the pizza that was messily thrown into the bowl

“Now eat fast because you have a lot more to finish babe” they say as they give Coles belly a hard open palmed smack after filling the bowl to the max. “Do you really think he should be eating that?” Mike says as Coles feeder starts walking back to the kitchen. “Excuse me?” Coles feeder says still holding the massive bottle of ranch. “I said do you think he should eat all of that?” Mike said pointing at Cole. “I mean seriously what was that? Look at that pile of cheese and ranch! You are killing him!” Mike says raising his voice.  Kayla puts a hand on his arm “Mike” as he pulls away. “No Kayla it isn’t right! They are killing him and enabling him with this weird fucking fetish! Look at him!”. Danny stands up beside Mike “He’s right Kayla, it’s obvious this is some weird feeder kink thing and they are enabling Cole. This is just as bad as somebody handing an alcoholic beer Kayla.” Coles feeder puts their hands on their hips and surveys them all. “Do you think he doesn’t want this? Coles happier than he has ever been being my feedee” they walk over squirting an even more obscene amounts of ranch on his pizza as they grin at Coles friends “Do you want more piggy?” Coles feeder coos pinching Coles double chin “or maybe your friends are right maybe we should put you on a diet” Cole weakly clutches at his feeders shirt “please feed me I’m so hungry piggy wants more” Coles feeder picks up a messy handful of the ranch covered pizza and holds it up to his nose. In a moment Cole is digging his face into the messy pizza slop making obscene oinking and gasps “feed me please I’m a good piggy grow my belly!” Feeling his feeders fingers push the pizza over his tongue.

Mike huffs in disgust “fine, I’m not being a part of this weird fetish bullshit. Have fun eating yourself to death Cole. I really hope you get some help but I think you are too far gone” as he walks into the entryway grabbing his bag and walking to the street “I’m calling an Uber”. Danny stands without saying anything besides “Bye Cole” and following Mike out to the porch. Kayla walks over absolutely disgusted about what is happening before her “Cole please, we can get you help. You aren’t going to live like this. You aren’t happy, you can’t be” Coles feeder pulls the slop away from his face “what do you think honey ready to leave me and get help?”. Coles eyes roll as he looks at Kayla’s distraught and disgusted face “Piggy needs feeding tube, so hungry” is all Cole moans in response. Coles feeder grins at Kayla “want to help”. Kayla looks at Cole one last time “Fuck you” she says to Coles feeder before looking down at Cole “bye Cole, good luck” before walking out of the front double door to join her friends waiting for their Uber as she wonders if Cole will even be able to fit out of them by the next year.

[luveline]

Sooo im still not over your hockey player Eddie and I absolutely love love love your hurt/comfort fics so I would love to see one where he's teaching something to reader and r gets injured and fluff ensues!

tysm for requesting, 1.3k

"You warm enough?" Eddie asks. 

Your hand is your only warm appendage where it's held in his. You're using your wobbly footing on the ice as an excuse to touch him, hand like a viper clinging to him. "Is that a joke?" 

You're wearing upward of three layers. The icy chill permeates through. 

"You'll feel warmer once we start moving, I promise." Eddie wears a simple compression shirt and sweatpants.

You kind of wish every other person here of single status would be blind to him. Like, they'd look at him and their eyes would just miraculously skip his figure, but alas. If anything, his impressive bulking attracts attention. Eddie drew looks before he started taking hockey seriously, but for a different reason. Now he's started building muscle, he's like honey to flies. 

You're not shallow, but muscles are muscles. He looks good. Hopefully he knows it, but Eddie's generally oblivious to his own looks, more focused on other people. Even now he drives you both backward on the ice while watching your face. 

"Don't be nervous," he says. 

"That's easier said than done," you say, grabbing his arm with your free hand as your left skate slides forward. 

"I've got you, honey," he says. It's not as strange from his lips as you might suspect because he says it in such a particular way. Easy-going, verging on cocky, he doesn't think for a second that you're going to slip, and he knows for sure that you're his honey. He has the cheese ball grin to prove it. "This will be fun! You said you wanted to try." 

"I do want to. Or, I did. Now we're here, I'm not so confident."

"You don't think I can teach you?" he asks. 

"No, I just don't think I can learn," you say, seizing as Eddie begins a gentle figure eight. You've watched him enough to know what shape he'll take, but that doesn't stop the instinctual fear. 

"If I can weasel my way into minor league, you can learn to play. I promise it's easy." 

"It's not easy, Eds. You worked so hard, I mean," —you wiggle your eyebrows at him suggestively— "just look at you." 

"Charmer! No, I mean learning to play is easy. Scoring a goal is easy. You know, so long as there's no goalkeeper there to stop you. I'm gonna let go of your hand now, okay?" 

Eddie skates to just behind the goal where his stick awaits, a puck on the floor beside it. He skates and keeps the puck close, stopping it by your feet. You've managed to skate closer to the goalposts without falling, waiting with your hands out like a tightrope walker. 

"Doing good," Eddie praises, dropping a cold kiss into your temple. He hands you the stick and stations himself at your side.  

You straighten it out. You've held it a few times and Eddie had you practising on dry land before the ice, but it feels heavier now. Your balance isn't automatic anymore. 

"You want help? We can do it like a movie." Eddie sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You feel better knowing he'll catch you before you can fall. 

"How much am I pulling back?" 

"Not a lot from here. If you were skating you might wanna pull it up real high, but the puck's not moving and neither are you." 

"What does Steve say?" you ask, lining up your shot. 

"Put the biscuit in the basket, dickhead?" 

You laugh and hit your puck. It slides across the ice and between the goalposts easily, a small feat for you and a big cause for celebration in Eddie's eyes; he shouts a nonsense sound, his arm behind your back as he shouts, "Yes! Easy-peasy, babe, you're a natural." 

You feel pretty happy about it, all things considered. Even if it wasn't as hard as you imagined, Eddie's pleased, and for a moment you forget you're untrained on the ice and attempt to return his half hug. 

You fall because you think you're going to. Sudden, you remember you might slip, and the panic has you pushing your skate forward in an attempt to dig in. It slides out from under you and Eddie's not on guard, catching your arm but not your back as you smack into the ice. 

"Shit! Shit, come here, sweetheart," he says, pulling you up. 

"Ow, wait," you say. More of a yelp, you wince as your skates slide about, thighs rigid and cold, the bottom of your spine aching, but worst of all is your arm. In his attempt to keep you standing, Eddie's yanked your arm sore in its socket. You don't mean to be dramatic but you're desperate for the hot pain to stop. "Eddie, let go." 

He drops your hand. Unafraid of being unable to stand again, Eddie goes down on his knees. Any skater will give you room. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks. 

You put your hands on the ice in an attempt to sit up. Eddie holds you down, hands on your thighs. 

"Take five. Did I hurt you?" he asks again, not urgent but teetering, his hand imploring as it travels to your waist. 

You don't want to say yes. "My arm went funny, that's all. Sorry." 

"I'm the sorry one. Said I wouldn't drop you and I did… that's not right, huh?" His hand curls behind your back. 

You're not as hurt as you'd initially thought. Your arm aches sharply and your back will definitely bruise, but Eddie gives you a minute to get to grips with things and stands up expertly, hoisting you into his arms. His arms are lined with fingernail embeddings by the time you get back to the bench, and then you're both sorry. 

"Eddie," you murmur, rubbing your thumbs over the small red crescents softly. 

"How bad is it?" 

"I don't know." You shrug. "Not so bad now." You know Eddie's letting you do what you want because you're hurt, and not because he doesn't want badly to be assessing your arm and your back. "It's my bad, I got spooked."

He catches your gaze, holds it tenderly. Sugary brown with a deep dark iris and the big white grain of the lights above reflected. You skip from one eye to the other. He has more caramel coloured flecks in one. Both are soft and sorry. 

"Is this gonna put a stop to your illustrious hockey career?" he jokes weakly. 

You can't believe you scratched him so bad. "No way. If you want me to be great, I'll be great, just… maybe when my back doesn't feel all tingly." 

Eddie untucks your many shirts with a low hum, fingertips drawing an invisible line over your pain. "It looks okay." He drops his forehead into your neck and hugs your naked stomach, saying, "You're so warm," with his lips pressed to your shoulder. "...M'really sorry I dropped you, babe. I got too excited." 

"Not the first time that's happened," you say. 

Eddie pinches your tummy, his smile audible as you squirm. "Very funny." 

His hair is soft where it lays under your cheek. You let him cuddle up to you until you can't take the cold nor the aching anymore and ask to go home. Eddie insists on carrying you to the changing rooms, you insist on him not doing that, and you compromise by walking with his arm behind your back. 

"I'll try again next weekend," you promise. 

Eddie kiss-kiss-kisses your cheek in thank you. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: Man, I need some sleep.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

As the large house fills with the rabble of strange men and flowing alcohol, you retreat back to your quarters and stare at your dead phone. Still not sign of life from Lloyd but that doesn't worry you in any existential way. He always finds a way to scrape by, it's just that you usually hear from him by now. Even when he leaves you behind, he has a dozen orders for you. Not that time.

You lean against the headboard and mull the walls. Maybe you'll finally leave this life. You should be proud you got this far. You weren't exactly honed in blood like these underhanded mercenaries. You're just an executive assistant who took a chance. A woman and a Craig's List add, what an origin story.

After a while, you find it hard to sit still. You leave your bed in a mess from the turmoil of your nerves. You drag yourself to the door. You must look like you're going through a breakup, at the very lest, a crisis. A grey gap hoodie and black leggings. You shuffle around in your beat up Keds and drift downstairs, concealing yourself in the distraction and cacophony of the full house. Valhalla and his men jeer from the dining room as you slip past, a quick peek inside at the joining of forces. 

Rico sits near the head of the table next to the gargantuan blonde with his braided locks and rugged jawline. The host looks less than impressed as his guest guffaws and claps his back roughly. You don't stay and watch, hurrying on as your stomach squeezes hungrily. You find when Lloyd's not around to demand his meals, you tend to forget to feed yourself.

You enter the kitchen and find chaos strewn over the counter tops. Bottles, some half-filled, others empty, littered over the granite. Crumbs and whole chunks of cheese and meat tossed around carelessly, a lingering stench hanging in the air. You assume the staff is hiding until there aren't men mixing alcohol and firearms.

You pull open the fridge and growl to find your neatly stacked containers gone. You keep your own food and Lloyd's precisely curated. You're a planner and meal planning is your greatest pride. While the other men depend on the processed foods dished up by the help, you make sure to feed your boss his preferred organic cuts. The door shuts as you let it go and turn to peruse the kitchen. There's a bag of biscuits with some spilling out. You leave the spilled cookies on the counter and claim the rest.

You stop as you come to face the wine rack. A single bottle remains in the crisscrossed slats of wood. You're not exactly fond of Risling but you've never been very picky. Nor much of a drinker.

You slide the bottle out with a soft clink against the rack and consider the label. You're not expert, would it pair well with shortbread? You compare the rumbled package of cookies and the pristine font on the bottle.

"Another!" The booming voice makes you leap and you spin around, the wine sloshing in the glass and loosening your grip. You face the large man as he bounces into the kitchen and the long neck slips free entirely. You step back with a surprised squeak as the glass smashes around your feet, sending a splash of wine up your leggings. 

Valhalla stops short as he finds you standing in the ruin of your surprise. His rosy cheeks pale and his cheeks draw to a more sober expression, a glint still gleaming behind his bright blue irises, "ah, pardon, my lady, I didn't mean to startle you. And look at what I've done," he gestures to your feet. You lift a shoe and he makes a noise, "ah, ah, do not move."

He comes closer as you stand dumbly in the shards. You look down then back at him. "I have shoes on--"

"And you wouldn't want to stain them," he insists as he nears. You shy away but not fast enough. He picks you up easily, like a hero in a ridiculous story, scooping you over the broken glass and carrying you to safe ground. "Forgive me for wasting the wine."

"It's fine," you wiggle in his hold, the bag of cookies wrinkling loudly, "really, I think..." you look down, dizzy as you see the pattern of tile below, "you can put me down, sir. Please, if you don't mind."

"As you wish," he places you gently on your feet, "what an introduction. Valhalla," he holds out his large hand, his palm rough and calloused, fingers thick but lock, "and you, beautiful woman lurking in the shadows?"

Your breath is stolen by the unexpected compliment. You remind yourself that it is only gas. He's like Lloyd, he must be, compliments are only currency. You take his hand and introduce yourself as sternly as you can. Your voice is barely more than a mousy squeak.

"It is you," he lights up as he tilts his head, clinging to your hand. 

"Me?" You question.

"Oh, I hope you remember. I suppose I am forgettable. We emailed... how pathetic I must sound," he chuckles at himself.

"No, I remember," you wiggle your hand and look at it, still trapped in his grip.

"Apologies," he lets you go, fingers brushing your palm reluctantly, "I only... I was disappointed when you disappeared."

"I disappeared?" You frown. "You never answered my last message."

"I..." he pauses, "I was in communication with Hansen, he said he preferred to take on the negotiations himself."

"Oh," you nod. Lloyd never mentioned that. "Of course, I'm so... careless. I have so much going on. I... I should've said goodbye. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he pleas, "you've nothing to be sorry for. I should be. I might make it up to you. You like wine, so let us grab a bottle and catch up."

"Catch up," you muse meekly, "you make it sound like we're old friends."

"Aren't we?"

"Emails..." you murmur.

He laughs as he turns and goes to the wine rack, ignoring the puddle of glass and wine by his feet.

"That was the last bottle," you say dully.

"There must be a cellar, I'm certain the best vintages are there," he turns as he pokes his finger into the air, "let us go scavenge."

"Uh, that's nice and all but I think... cookies are just fine for me."

"Cookies?" He comes back to you, eyeing the bag in your hand, "shortbread. My favourite."

"Oh, well, erm, if you want some--"

"Only if you come with them," he meets your gaze and you shy away at his implication.

You open your mouth but no sound comes out.

"I mean, I'd like to eat them with you. Share them," he stammers slightly, another rocky chuckle escapes him, "I've been on the road long, I'm afraid I'm bit delirious."

"It's fine, I wouldn't want to-- you and your men should settle in and maybe tomorrow--"

"Tonight. Right now. I can't wait. I'm not known for it," he seizes your hand, "come, meet my men."

"I... please," he tugs you, moving you with little effort, "I'm only an assistant."

"Bring your cookies," he insists, ignoring your protests.

You can't stop him. Your soles squeak and slide under you as he drags you into the hall and through the wide archway of the dining room. The men at the table are drunk and a few whistle as you pass by, even as female agents sit smattered among the group.

Valhalla brings you to the head of the table and claims the empty chair awaiting him. Before you can react, he lifts you onto his lap, his arm firm against your back.

"Wait-- what are you--" you can barely catch your breath with how fast everything is moving, "I really should-- Lloyd will be back soon and I have to--"

"Forget him. I want to know about you," he bows his head, focusing on the cookie bag as he slips his fingers through the open top. He plucks one out, admiring it before holding it out to you, "please, you first."

You go to take the cookie from him, shifting on his leg, uncomfortable as you hear the snickers from the table. You must look ridiculous. This man is like a storm, he just comes in and blows everything out of sorts. He pulls the cookie away from your reaching fingers, instead hovering it before your mouth. You swallow, too humiliated to look anywhere but him.

"I can--"

He shakes his head and presses the shortbread to your lips, quieting you. You open your mouth and bite into the crumble buttery goodness. You snap your teeth shut and chew stiffly, lowering your eyes as he watches you. He tosses the rest of the biscuit into his mouth and hums.

"Delicious," he remarks as his fingers tickle the back of your arm, "now, we have tonight. Tomorrow we can work, but now, you will tell me everything."

"Lloyd--"

"Not him," he interrupts again, "you," he cups your chin in his hand, "I travelled all this way, won't you humour me just a little?"

You rub your lips together. What can you say? Every time you try to come up with something, it begins 'Lloyd...' Is there even anything interesting about you? Have you lost yourself so completely to your own foolish crush?

"Tell me," Valhalla rests his hand on your shoulder more firmly, "anything. Tell me your favourite cookie. Just speak and I will listen."

You look at him again. Listen? How long have you longed for someone to do just that? To be heard? To be seen? It's almost as if he knows and is heeding that desperate call inside of you.

"The little..." you put your fingers up to show the size you have in mind, "jam-filled ones," your voice grows less wobbly as you speak, "with the bit of custard."

"Ah, those are a delight," he proclaims, "my brother is overly fond of those. I caught him sneaking some at the family holiday last year-- anyhow, he is another matter. I see it, you are sweet, you like sweet things." He frames your face with his hand, "and you have a sweet voice, tell me more.”

"I..." you begin and push your shoulders into a shrug. You take out a cookie, needing to do something with your hands, "I'm not that interesting."

You nibble on the cookie as he laughs again. Not mean or judgmental like Lloyd, just fun. You focus on chewing, wilting away as you feel him watching you.

"I'm interested," he intones, his timbre blowing through you.

You don't know what to say. There are no words. It's like you're the centre of the world in that moment, or at the least, of his. A man you hardly know, a man you only ever encountered in text.

Or maybe you're all wrong. Maybe you're misinterpreting every word he says. Just like you did with Lloyd. Searching for any sliver of longing.

"In fact," he leans back, rubbing your back casually, "you're the only interesting thing I've found in this place."

❤️‍🩹

The night sweeps you up like a whirlwind. You don't quite remember it ending, waking up in bed with remnants of the evening dancing in your mind. Valhalla's voice nips at you, sending spirals over your flesh, zapping every nerve as it echoes in your ears.

You almost feel guilty that he's your first thought. How he never looked away, never spoke to anyone else, only you. His entire focus was yours.

And yours was his. You listened to his stories, mentions of his family, though his reputation never suggested sentiment. His tales of firefights made comical by his retelling. The way he described his homeland like some mystical paradise. He filled the void left by your own boring life.

You stretch and roll over, sitting up as something dangles down your chest. You look down. Still inhe same hoodie you wore all night was a charm hanging between the strings. You take it between your fingers and examine the medallion, a bullet lodges into it, the burn of gunpowder seared around it. Strange.

A waft of amber and citrus clings to the sweater. You dare to take a whiff before you stand. It smells like him.

You peel off your sweater reluctantly and hang it, opting to skip the hamper. You strip your leggings and your undershirt and pick a fresh outfit. Something more appropriate.

You force yourself into the shower and come out feeling awake. You pull on each piece; a pair of stiff slacks and a striped blouse, paired with a gray blazer. Your usual dull attire.

You sit and slide into a pair of leather flats. The mornings aren't usually hard. Something is different. Something has changed.

You head downstairs and find several staff working at tidying the previous night's ribaldry. You enter the kitchen and set the keurig to brew a cup as bodies scurry around you. Everyone has their place here; you, Rico, and Lloyd.

But not Valhalla.

At the very thought of him, a blaring horn takes over. Your ears throb and you forget your mug as you race to the front door. There's a man passed out against the wall in his own puke. Wonderful.

You pull open the left door as the gate opens and tires bounce over the paved drive. Lloyd is behind the wheel to your surprise, laying into the horn as he skids to a halt. Grumbling comes from behind you as Rico drags his feet and peers out over your head.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

The alcohol lingers in his breath. You step outside to escape his stench. Lloyd swings open the door and hops out, smiling at the sky as he presents himself as some great hero returned home.

“Morning, fuckers!” He bellows.

Silence, only an odd rhythm. You realise as a figure jogs around the east wing that it's footfalls. You turn to look as Rico and Lloyd do the same. It's him, Valhalla, running towards you.

He smiles, unaffected by his brisk pace as he nears, a smile on his face as he waves. He slows and you get a clear sight of his shirtless torso. He wears only running shoes and a pair of riskily short shorts. 

There's a sheen of sweat over his skin but he hardly seems spent. His veins bulge beneath his skin and his muscles are thick but toned. His chest is broad and trimmed in golden hair, every part him immense and statuesque.

You almost let out the ‘wow’ as it creeps up your throat.

“Who the fuck is this ken doll?” Lloyd asks as he points to Valhalla.

“Ah, you must be Hansen,” Valhalla ignores his brusque question and holds put his hand.

“Who's asking?” Lloyd rests his hand on his holster.

Valhalla smiles and gives his name, unfaltering as he keeps his hand put. Lloyd doesn't shake it as he scowls. He looks the larger man up and down.

“You're early.”

“Or you're late,” Valhalla challenges and turns, clapping his hand on Lloyd's shoulder as it goes unshaken, “I thought you'd be bigger.”

Lloyd tilts his head, a grimace twisting his features, “huh?”

“I must day, it's a nice property,” Valhalla continues, gesturing to the house. He smirks and gives you a wink, “very welcoming.” He grips Lloyd's shoulder and pulls him closer, “I could get you somewhere even bigger. How about that?”

Lloyd squints at Valhalla, head craned awkwardly, “yeah?”

Valhalla smiles, “let's talk.”

[casinocarpediem]

▪︎■☆New Years🎊☆■▪︎

☆ 🔞‼️NOT SAFE FOR WORK‼️🔞

☆ trans!bot!Miguel O'Hara / amab!dom!reader

☆ 2k words

☆ late (I faced multiple family issues during the first few weeks of January, so sorry for the delay 😭😭)

☆ words such as cunt, pussy, cock and hole are used to describe Miguel's genitalia

☆ please correct me if I missed anything 😓

°○☆ nsfw under the cut ☆○°

The sound of fireworks. Loud and colorful. One would expect to walk outside and see the display of reds and blues. Even purple or green. Or a wonderful mix of hues patterned together.

Fireworks were symbolic. Fireworks were for to celebrate the new year coming ahead. To celebrate the birth of new months to spend with the people you love the most and to make thanks for the previous year and all of its challenges and shortcomings.

Other people had parties over it. Charcuterie bords plated with soft cheeses and salty cold cuts, added with a side of fruits and oranges. Not to mention the flaky biscuits.

Other people spent time together. Blowing their horns and rambunctiously declaring out their love for all people to hear on the top of their lungs until their throats burned and their ears stung.

You and Miguel decided to spend time together. Of course, a blend of the two given directions to spend the birth of a brand new year.

There was a party held in HQ for the other spiderpeople who were also celebrating new years eve and you and Miguel enjoyed it but had leave sooner on account of celebrating it on your own with him.

"You do realize i could have bought all of that for you" Miguel says with his eyebrows raised. While feeding himself a piece of unflavored biscuit dipped in cream and biting down on the snack. His large hands made it look miniature..

"Well I wanted to treat you, obviously. It isn't fair if you're getting me so much. It's the least i could do. Especially for today." You mention as you sip your wine and smile. Leaning against the circular couch and watching the muffled fireworks from outside pop into colorful combinations with your loving husband.

"I like the Queso de Bola from your universe." Miguel mentions with a huff and a smile then buries his face on your shoulder to lean on it. You snort, then decide to speak, "There isn't a difference between the one from mine and yours... even if it's from the future. It's.. still a cheese ball"

"Yeah. But I can taste the difference. The ones I've got were made by machines. Not cows." You shrug. He has a point. But despite that there isn't much a difference in flavor.

Eventually you two settle on finishing up the charcuterie board and drink the wine you two had. Mundane conversations about life. All the while you had your hands on Miguel's stomach whole you cuddled with him from the back.

He was talking about atomic particles and the more he explained the more wine he drank. Despite his tolerance he became tipsy quicker than you both had planned. Not that anything changed. He just became more clingy and open. And a little sleepy. It was adorable to see honestly. Though, there was no doubt the warmth growing inside of yours and his stomach.

It settles with you both lying down in bed watching some movie that you can't really focus on right now because Miguel's kissing your neck and rubbing his clothed pussy against your thigh. The kisses were alright. You spared some back. But the sudden wetness you felt when his hips moved on your leg had snapped your attention to him.

You finally got your eyes off of the movie and looked at him. Most of his face is buried onto the plush pillows but his eyes had that half lidded look that always made you feel warm. Everywhere. He needed something. He needed you.

You both have done this before. More than once. Of course, he was your husband and he has needs. He has a lot of needs. And you were always receptive of fulfilling them.

Without a word you reached over to him without moving the sheets away and traced your hand down his body. He closes his eyes and sigh softly. Adjusting his own body so that it was now facing the ceiling. Snug right beside you with the blanket covering everything you two were doing.

Your palm brushed against his pecs. So soft. You squeezed on the muscle and he twitches and hums in response. You apologize by kissing his cheek.

You go lower and your hand is on his muscles. Thumb tracing against his torso. He was breathing faster and his squirmed a little. Impatient. You apologized by kissing his nose.

Your hand reaches the spot he had needed you to touch. His warm wet cunt. You wanted to tease him but decided against it. It was new years after all. Why derive your husband of the pleasure he deserved? As a little thank you gift for just being here with you. For existing. Because he loved you and you loved him and nothing will change that. Especially another year to spend with your darling husband.

He groans a little. With the way your fingers rub his cock, and graze against his hole. Overall spreading the wetness. The warmth that is, Miguel. You use your thumb to rub at the slit softly but fast enough for his liking. He pants and turns his head so that it's buried on your neck. His breathing is labored and he does as much as to lick at and bite your neck. His hand rubbing against your clothed throbbing cock to share his own effort.

You groan at the touch. Close your eyes for a second to focus fully on the way you pleasure him and how he pleasures you. You move your fingers down, 3 of them, entering his sopping cunt. Your thumb flicking his clit while moving your fingers back and forth and curling your fingers to press down on a spongey spot that has his seeing stars.

He whines. Growls? Could be both. What mattered was that it felt good his warm pussy felt around your three fingers that moved in a way that had him curling his toes. He gets your fat cock out of your boxers and strokes it properly. Now your distracted. Your fingers move a little erratically inside of his hole. Sucking more in. Greedy little thing.

You continued moving your fingers. In and out. Curling your fingers up at a degree that caressed his gspot in the right ways. Your thumb stimulating his cock. He was shivering. Not from the cold, a blanket ensured that. He shivered with the way your hands moved inside of him. For a moment he stops stroking you because his hands gripped the sheets tightly.

He chokes. And you move your head to kiss him. It's messy. Sloppy. But it's full of love. It's always full of love. Everything you do for this man has always over-poured itself with so much love, he even doubted if he deserved it at some point. Not that you wanted to linger on the thought. Because he deserved so much more.

And when he cums. You're there for him. He whines out when you prolong his orgasm with a few more strokes of your fingers. Thrusting in and out at his usual preferred pace whilst flicking his cock with your thumb. The more he gasps out while his gangs graze your tongue the better. He knows you love him he knows.

You're not even finished with him. Oh no you weren't.

Not when you moved the covers away from his beautiful legs and moved yourself to face in front of him. His eyes were lidded and he had himself waiting for you, legs spread and revealing his vulnerability in its full glory. Only for you. Always for you. You leaned down, kissing his legs. Every scar littered on his skin you appreciate quietly with a soft peck of your lips, maybe a soft bite or two. You can smell his heat approaching the further you go down and it's exciting but you have to remind yourself to be patient.

You leave a kiss on his happy trail and the little bit of soft fat on his abdomen, not giving it what it wants at first. Take it slow. Just the way he likes it. To take your time appreciating him and his body. And when your tongue will part the dark curls coated on his cunt and land your tongue on his hole, hold him down while he squirms and throw his head back.

You'll lap up the slick that's been dripping down his pussy lips since his earlier orgasm and drink it up the more you lick deeper, nose budging his clit. Hold him down, please do. With the way he'll call out your name and arch his back the faster you pressing your tongue deeper in his walls. He'll squeeze you inside whenever you prod and press against that area that has his pussy creaming all over again. When he comes, again, he squirts this time. At this point it's easier to drink up now that you're nearer to him.

He's so sensitive and his clit is throbbing. He's twitching against the bed and his grip on the sheets are evidently strong. Luckily he had made a way to make his bedsheets harder to tear so there was no damage done. He could tear and pull and scratch all he could but nothing would be damaged. Other than perhaps you, some red angry marks here and there on your back.

Like the ones forming now, with your face pressed against his and your own throbbing cock rubbing against his own heat. Wet shy slickness. Rubbing your girth against his clit and he can only whine and make half assed growls, demanding you to go faster. He's cute isn't he? All desperate like that, legs spread trying so hard to get your dick inside him, whilst his ankles pressed against your spine trying to thrust you in himself.

And when you give him what he wants he'll scream again. He'll scream your name. He'll scream because he can feel your cock parting his warm, creamy walls. The soft and humid interior of his pussy. It has you both seeing stars. Just as colorful as the fireworks from earlier. You ram into him and the deeper you go he has his eyes rolling back and his words falling into mumbles. Soft moans and slight growling.

Words you'll hear would be please and thank you. Then it'd turn into curses and demands. Him asking you to hurry up. And if you thrusted into him just right he'd return back to his more polite pleads.

You can feel him squeezing so good around your cock. His hole, slick and just sucking you in. The crown of your cock hitting his cervix and it drove him hazier. He laughs, because the intensity of it all has him in a precious, soft, fuzzy delirious state and you kiss his forehead. To make it all better.

His walls squeeze at you. And it feels so fucking good it's driving you insane and he swears he can feel you deep back in his throat. Because he chokes on his own noises for a good second before his head falls back and he whines again. Rutting against the knowledge of you knowing you'd end up filling him to the brim. Stuffing him full of your cum and your scent will just overwhelm him because you're his and he's yours and anything about you. Your personality, your voice, your scent. He wants every ounce of it and it only multiplies I'm sensation when he knows he's leaking with your love. Your scent and your very DNA in its pure form, as Miguel thinks to himself.

Well, one thing or another, the thought of you filling him up again has him squeezing you and he squeals because it's all so much. Too much. The way you kiss his face and mutter praises into his ears, your hands spreading his legs apart while the head of your cock hits him deep and I'm talking deep. He cums on your cock and arches his back, mouth opened for a silent scream as he growls next and twitches. Claws digging further into your back, he'd apologize for that tomorrow morning.

Right now he was focusing on experiencing the best fucking orgasm he's had for this year. This precious, brand new year. With you and in this bed. When he cums his pussy squeezes you and you couldn't help it either. Coming undone as well with a groan and filling him up full. Miguel's gasps because the sheer warmth of you is making him feel full. Feeling fulfilled. It could be for whatever reason but no matter what it'd be he's so happy to be here with you because he loves you so much and he's so full of your love. Literally.

One things for sure, you were willing to go a little longer. To thank him for being here with you..

(A/N: it's finally here!!! I'm really sorry for the delay afhfhrjjf (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ) but that's no excuse, so I finally finished this work :) I hope you guys like it. I'll make more soon. Please be patient with me ♡)

[aaakikoo]

random low effort Attack On Titan headcanons

-> I’m back from the long ass break lol, I’ll try to most more regularly <3

-> nothing is 18+ so everyone can interact, some of these could be a lil icky n they could give ur favs an ick but some r rlly sweet too <3

-> this a guy ver ill do a girl ver soon!

-> girl ver

EREN J.

listens to rap but fails to rap as fast as the rapper so it turns into him mumbling.😭

has a collection of funk pops

doesn’t have a mid, or bad but TERRIBLE spice tolerance.

thinks that his loud motorcycle is hot

his breath smells like onion sometimes

surprisingly doesn’t sweat alot

his fav colour is sage green and black

tries to act manly infront of mikasa but ends up looking stupid

argues with armin but when he proves him wrong he says “that’s exactly what I said!” 💀

doenst use sunscreen

tries to make food for armin and mikasa but fail so the trio end up making food together instead

lends armin his clothes

ARMIN A.

drinks jet black coffee every morning

his breath always smells like mint

has a collection of polo shirts

get sad/offended when he sees those tiktoks of ppl saying that blue eyes are scary.

listens to true crime on the daily

is very very organized like WAYYYY too organized, on his desk his pens, papers, clips etc are all sorted out in different containers, his clothes are washed and ironed perfectly in his closet with each drawer, his bathrooms smells so expensive all the time.

wears those shorts with longer black shorts underneath

has little/to no hair on his body expect his face

has a pet parrot

is allergic to dogs

JEAN K.

this man has a collection of colognes but only used 3 of them.

also has a tie collection

unlike eren he only knows how to cook the basics, coffee, salads, pancakes, cereal, eggs and bacon, pasta & noodles.

he isn’t super organized but like to have control, I feel like he’d have an obsession with vacuuming especially the living room.

watched BEN 10 as a kid

Fav colour purple

smokes cigs, but only sometimes.

calls his car “his lady”

loves to paint/draw

he’d be one of those guys who wear shorts and a tank and no socks around the house (nun wrong w that)

hairy legs but no hair on his arms n chest??? 😭

asks to borrow ur Netflix

spam comments under his partners posts

loves frank ocean

CONNIE S.

surprisingly I feel like Connie would know how to bake and very responsible when it comes to that.

still has the hand writing of a 7 year old

has a collection of tote bags

has a silver piercing in his left ear

loves chunky belts and chunky silver rings

a huge fan of ariana grande

doesn’t like sea food

loves to watch reality tv and get involved in drama

a nice gym bro

doesn’t smoke but drinks on occasions like he really takes his chance

has fully loaded biceps

has 3 suits. Black, grey and navy and rotates between them.

has seen every show/movie on Netflix

LEVI A.

black coffee everyday as well

loves to collect exotic types of tea

has a skincare routine of face wash, moisturizer and sunscreen

uses a bonnet when he sleeps

doesn’t eat meat

listens to rain ASMR when he can’t sleep

always has a bottle of water with him everywhere

his showers r 30 mins long

only wears suit pants

has a wallet with a pic of Hange in it

his fav cake is cheesecake but only eats it if the biscuit ratio is bigger than the cream cheese

loves red tulips

reads the news paper and listens to the radio everyday for 15 mins

ERWIN S.

eats only eggs and bacon with orange juice for breakfast

has a huge collection of suit shirts that he wears everyday

carries a small comb around

has a pen in his chest pocket

when he sees a good looking man he always admires them out loud

has 2 colognes that he rlly likes and wears

really good at cooking

tries to say Gen z slangs

a huge MJ fan

loves Sherlock Holmes

a hairy man

loves dogs

only uses sunscreen on his face

has a little bit of a sweet tooth

uses Vaseline all the time, he has a tub at his place, a tub in his office and a stick with him all the time

REINER B.

lactose intolerant

loves to rewatch his childhood shows/movies

loves salty things, actually he eats quite literally anything

scared of animals

has a fear of heights (??)

actually really great with kids

always rushes to the other side of the car to open the door for his lady

sucks ass at cooking

he is really strong but doesn’t have very good stamina

loves to play video games

very good at literature, wants to be an author (modern AU)

BERTHOLDT H.

nut allergy

has long fingers

very shy and doesn’t really have an opinion on anything

[insomniac4000]

Lazy Sunday-George Clarke fluff

You and George have now been together for eight months, you met through your brother who worked as an editor for him, Arthur and a couple of others. He once invited you on a night out as you needed cheering up and from that moment George laid his eyes on you he was smitten and you were very much the same. It took him a couple of months to gear up the courage to ask you out and was absolutely thrilled when you said yes.

You worked a regular 9-5 job, as such weekends were often spent with George when he wasn't away filming. Your flatmate had pretty much moved in with her boyfriend at this point leaving your flat free for George and you. As much as you had gotten to know and love Chris and Arthur it was also great to have your own space. This was actually the first weekend in three weeks where you and George had seen each other due to filming on his part and a friends hen party on yours. You had spent the Friday evening out with George's friends and spend Friday night at his place before moving to your flat on the Saturday and going out for dinner Saturday night.

Sunday morning rolled around and when you woke you were still quite tired. You turned onto your elbow and smiled at the still sleeping boy next to you, hearing his breathing as his mouth as slightly agape. His eyes flickered and when his blue eyes focused and fixed on you he smiled and turned to face you.

"I caught you staring," he mumbled tiredly with a smirk placing his arms around you and pulling him towards you.

"I could stay like this all day," you told George as you let out a contended sigh.

"Okay, let's have a lazy day," George groggily replied closing his eyes once again, you followed suit and the pair of you dozed for another hour, slipping in and out of sleep as you laid there together, that was until the call of nature washed over you. As you were up you decided to make some tea for George and yourself, not being arsed to cook you grabbed some muffins and some biscuits you had in the cupboard before going back into your room and seeing George now fully awake sitting half up in bed.

"And where did you go? I got cold and lonely," he added sadly and you smiles lifting up the items in your hands.

"Just went to get some provisions for our lazy day in bed," you answered giving George the mug carefully and placing the sweet goodies on the floral duvet. Once you had consumed the baked goods and caffeine you went back into George's arms, he had made it very clear he had no intention of moving from that bed all day.

"Without a doubt this is my favourite thing to do," George said lazily as he squeezed you in his strong arms. You nodded in agreement as your hand caressed his cheek feeling his bone structure under his facial hair before giving him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"With everything going on and how busy we both can be it's so nice to just stop and appreciate each other, because I do, I love you so much," George told you a goofy smile on his face. Your blushed and peppered a few kisses on his cheek and jaw.

"I love you too," you whispered as your hands found his hair.

The pair of you stayed true to your word, the only time you left the other one was either to use the bathroom or when George went to get the pizza you ordered at around 4.

"I don't know about you but I think we should make lazy Sunday's a weekly thing," George suggested, mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.

"Agreed," you replied sipping your diet coke.

[jj-5656]

Say It Like You Mean It With; Anthony Lockwood

A/N: Hello again! We’ve begun a new obsession, I am absolutely hooked on this show. And if there’s no renewal announcement in the next month, or at all, I’m fighting. @sunshineangel-reads​ provided some suggestions in the inbox, so I figured I’d tag <3. All right, hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one where you meet the newest addition to the agency, and insomnia strikes again

IMPORTANT: All characters are aged up. I wouldn’t be comfortable doing so if they were played by minors, but that’s not the case here. Just wanted to make that clear before we begin. 

“She can’t just go taking two at once like that.” 

“the rule is each member of the agency can only take one biscuit at a time in a strict rotation. Keeps things fair.”

“E-each member of the agency?” 

“Assuming you are still interested in the position?” The front door opens just as Lockwood’s finished. Three heads snapping toward the mud room as you shuffle in, arms weighed down from grocery bags.

“Of course she’s still interested!” To Lucy’s relief, it’s a female voice that sounds before you appear in font of them. Tufts of hair spilling over your face at the exertion of errands. The two boys are immediately at your side, ridding you of all baggage and heaving it toward what she assumes is the kitchen.

“Lucy,” Lockward calls out behind him as he descends the staircase along George. “Meet y/n y/l/n, another associate.” You scoff, extending a hand with a kind smile. Undoubtedly the most welcoming so far. “She’s most sensitive to sound, much like you. Not bad with a rapier, either.” 

“I hope they haven’t irritated you too much so far.” You beckon her to follow the boy’s path with you. “Please tell me you didn’t use the bloody toothbrush cup.” 

“Of course not.” Lockwood taps his nose with his finger when your back is to him, a silent beckon for your potential hiree not to snitch.

 The kitchen’s just down a flight of stairs, where you get unloading items into their designated spaces as George works on cooking. 

“We call this the thinking cloth,” Lockwood taps onto the wooden table after tossing you a box of pasta to put away. “We jot down memos, theories, trains of thought-”

“Cheesy love confessions.”

“Shut up, George.” The redhead misses the inside joke, brows furrowing with confusion as Anthony continues on. “I located the bones of the Fenchurch Street Ghoul by sketching out the street plans here at three in the morning over cheese on toast.”

“When a case goes badly an we’re not talking to one another, it’s good for exchanging insults too.”

“Ah, and how often does that happen?”

“Almost never.” You butt in, giving her your most genuine expression despite the white lie. You’re so eager to finally have another girl around, it’s only fair you promote the job as much as possible. 

“Now, basement. Follow me.” Lucy does as asked, sending a quick look of concern your way before she disappears down the stairway. 

“She’ll never last.”

“Oh c’mon George, I was more than welcoming when you came along.” 

“That’s because my natural talent was evident.” 

“Is that why you screamed like a little girl during the test?” 

“I wasn’t expecting the gunshots from the knife, alright?”

**********

“This was my bedroom when I was little, and y/n’s for a while. You can use it, if you’d like. Unless you have other sleeping arrangements?” 

“Yes...No-I mean-”

“Of course, we’d deduct the rent from your wages. Nothing too steep. Just enough to cover the bills. I’m a very reliable landlord.” 

“Jesus, Anthony. Give her a second.” You tear open the blinds, smirking when Lucy takes a moment to admire the view at such height. Something tells you the pair of you will get on just fine. She hesitates, then. Looking Iver to you with confusion. 

“Do you sleep elsewhere?” There’s a sudden silence between the three of you. Lockwood clearing his throat as he pulls at a the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck. He studies the newest employee with a twinge of anxiety, presumably understanding how things might seem...Unprofessional. Granted, it’s a business run by an 18 year old, but an official one nonetheless. 

“We share the bedroom downstairs.” Is all you manage, blush adorning your features as her jaw slacks in understanding. 

“I’d like to make it clear,” Anthony looks over your frame, smiling fondly. Then back to Lucy. Who seems to hold no judgement despite her obvious contemplation. “Y/n and I attended academy together, she was with me when this all began.” 

“In other words,” you finish for him. “We were sleeping together before he became my employer.” The closed-off girl huffs a laugh for the first time since you’ve met her, though your boyfriend twinges pink with an abashed smile. Diffidence is awfully rare on him, though it's quite adorable. It’s then Lucy decides she’s fond of you already. 

“Please excuse my girlfriend’s lack of filter. I suppose George’s rubbed off on her.” He's only teasing, Lucy knows that when you shove at his shoulder. The pair of you are not overly affectionate, you don’t seem like the types anyway. Of course, she’s only caught a glimpse of your relationship, there’s an undeniable glint in her potential boss’ eyes as he looks at you. 

“Like Anthony said-” 

“Lockwood, please.” Though he interrupts you, he’s only looking at Lucy. She comes to understand you may be the only one unwilling to refer to him as such. It almost twitches a smile to her lips. 

“This used to be my room, before Anthony begged for my hand.” 

“Was that before or after you professed your undying love for me?” Said boy backs up toward the stairs, noticing the inklings of a friendship beginning to form between the two girls front him. 

“Before then, but definitely after you pleaded to kiss me when you drank the better half of MY whiskey. Which was a gift, by the way. An expensive one.” 

“From that muppet at academy?” He scoffs, wiping an invisible stream of dust off the banister. “Horrid flirt.” A grimace sets upon his face. Josh Collins was a right prick, you had to admit. Though it was an obliged graduation gift. 

“Don’t speak so poorly of yourself, sweetheart.” Lucy can’t help but really smile this time, features immediately dulling once she realizes she’s been caught. You pretend not to notice.

Lockwood sends a half-assed glare your way, holding his tongue in lieu of the new company. “This has got it’s own bathroom. There’s a bigger one downstairs, but that’s mean sharing with George. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” A beat of silence after you nod in agreement, cringing at the flashbacks. “Right, well, we’ll leave you to unpack. Settle in. That’s assuming-”

“Those newspaper clippings on the wall...”

“Oh. You saw those. Not very modest, is it?” 

“But definitely on brand.” You mutter what you think is to yourself, smiling innocently when they look your way. 

“Should really take them down.” 

“No, it’s more...It’s just. Well you haven’t said anything about...I mean, who are you guys?” 

“Plenty of time for that. You should rest. Get some sleep.”

“That’s...If you’ll take the job?” You hope you don’t sound as desperate as you are, voice tilting with anticipation as you wring your hands together. 

There’s a couple, agonizing beats of silence that feel like hours. Finally, the girl nods, “yes.” 

You all but shout, fighting jumping up and down at the confirmation. Anthony shakes his head at you with a fond roll of his eyes, sending Lucy hopeful smile. “Well then, welcome to Lockwood and Co.” You squeeze her arm gently in congratulation, taking hold of your boyfriend’s chin to press a swift kiss to his cheeks. Unaware of his skin flushing with heat as you descend the stairs in an elated hurry.

“Georgie, she said yes!!”

****************

It’s dark when you wake, rolling over in search of warmth that isn’t there. Unsurprisingly, Anthony’s not beside you. You huff a sigh, cursing your boyfriends’ relentless insomnia before wrapping the quilt folded at the bottom of the bed around your form and stalking down the hall.

He’s in the library, of course. The bright fire pops into the silence of the night, illuminating the room in a tantalizing warmth. Lockwood runs a finger over his bottom lip as his eyes remain trained on the book in hand. Up until a weak floor board gives your presence away with a groaning creak.

His lips curl into a tired, yet no less pleased smile at the sight of you. Shifting the couch so you’ll fit perfectly into his side. “Why are you awake, dove? It’s late.” He pushes a stray strand of hair from your face, brows furrowing when you scoff at the irony.

“Could say the same for you. Can’t sleep again?” He hums, elaboration not necessary. Hurt tugs at your heart strings as your thumb trails over the dark skin just below his eyes. A hand wrapping around your wrist to kiss your doting ones away.

In the solitude of these hours, you’re both able to find comfort in your gentle affections. It’s much easier alone, sometimes. There’s an unspoken ease in the solitude of it all. In these moments, Lockwood can feed into the delusion it’s just you and him in this house, in the whole world.

“Close your eyes and get some rest.” He wraps an arm around your sternum. Your back to his chest as he continues reading. A pout adorns your features, eyes narrowing.

“But I’m not tired.”

“Yes. You most definitely are,” the corners of us eyes crinkle with his knowing smirk. “You just don’t want to make me feel bad for making you feel obligated to stay awake with me.”

You envy his ability to read you more often than not. Pulling the quilt further over the two of you so as to seem inconspicuous. Failing miserably when a yawn tears through you. Long lashes fluttering over your cheekbones as you blink slow, gazing up at him. Anthony feigns stoicism under your gaze, though you’re just about the only person to make his heart race with just a look. The one you’re giving him right now is particularly cruel. Pleading, soft, all things sweet and alluring. He figures you’ve perfected the craft of drawing him in, unknowingly or otherwise.

“I’m wide awake, actually.” Is all you manage. Voice rasped with sleep as your nails run over the exposed skin of his forearm. Sending chills down his spine. The arm resting over you pulls slightly back, just enough to enable his hand to hold the side of your face. Fingers smoothing over your warm skin to lull you further.

You’ve always been naturally much warmer than him. A personal furnace, he regards you. Seeing as he’s always too cold for his liking.

It makes sense. You’re all things sweet and painstakingly kind. There’s not a soul who’d be able to repay half the debts you deem mere favors. You’d give the shirt off your back to anyone who needed it, especially those you care for.

You’re everything Anthony Lockwood is not. And sometimes, most times, he hates himself for it. Hates he’s too selfish to let you go and award you opportunity to find someone much more worthy of your heart.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” He’s stopped his ministrations, seizing your attention from the cackling fire and back to him. He offers a small smile, one you read right through. Here he is again, pulling away and closing off in the moments you’re both most vulnerable. It’d hurt, at first. The beginnings of your relationship...Friendship, even. Had often been strained by Anthony’s reclusive  habits. You’ve shared just about every piece of yourselves to one another, yet he still manages to find more fear in love than fighting the dead.

Over time you’ve developed patience. Reveling in the small moments of softness he’s awarded you in all the chaos. They’re worth it. Knowing him, learning how to love him, has been worth it.

“I’m right here, love. I’m always here.” He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. Pretending to get lost in the pages afront him once more.

“Come to bed.” You’re so quiet he almost misses it, folding the book against his chest to meet your gaze. Doing his best to ward off your obvious puppy eyes. (though he lacks lacks the best track record with this)

“Just one more chapter? Then I’ll take you to bed and pretend to sleep for the next few hours.” You frown at his teasing, swatting away his poke to your sides in search of a smile.

“You’re not funny, Lockwood. All i want is for you to rest. Really rest, for once.” Rapier-calloused fingers card through his hair, eliciting a gracious sigh.

“I’m only joking. I do rest much easier with you around,” a swift kiss to your lips. “Sleep better when you’re beside me,” two more against your cheeks for good measure.

“You’re awful.”

“Awful?”

“Awful!” A hand collides with his chest, chastising. “Being sweet so I’ll stop worrying. It won’t work. I’ll always worry about you.” And there it is again. The agonizing clutch at his heart at your compassion. Unable to resist the notion there are so many others much more worthy of your affections.

“I know.” It’s a whisperer, forehead pressing against yours. “You should probably start saving that for a bloke who deserves it.” There’s no self-pity to it. No trace of malice or fish for reassurance. So succinct and matter of fact you want to tackle him into an embrace in lieu of willing away every deprecating thought that intrudes his conscience.

“Anthony Lockwood.” You’re stern, then. Maneuvering upward so your head can rest on the arm of the love-worn couch and better face him. “If you’re mean to my boyfriend one more time, I’ll ensure my spirit is tied to you. Haunting you with love and affection for the rest of eternity.”

“I feel like that’s supposed to be a threat...” Cold fingers trace over your collar bone, peeking out from under his dress shirt you’ve stolen. “Though it’s almost endearing. I’d quite like to be stuck with you for the rest of time, I think.” A blush flushes your features, worsening when it elicits his cocky smirk at the observation.

“I hate you.” Hands concealing your abashed face with the muffled whine.

“Say it like you mean it, Darling.” He stretches under you, nudging at your forearms with the spine of his book. “Will you uncover yourself now? I’d like to see you again.” You oblige, hands falling atop your thighs and against his stomach. Anthony’s gasp startles you, features taught with confusion. “My God, it’s happened again!”

“What?”

“You’ve gotten prettier! Just now, I swear it!” A groan sounds as you press your face into his chest, shaking along with his rumbles of laughter. 

“Just read your book, Lockwood. I like you better when you’re quiet.”

“Just one more chapter. Then we’ll head to bed.” He straightens, getting ahold of himself as he obliges. Eyes meeting yours once you tap his elbow.

“Read to me?”

“I thought you liked me better quiet?”

“I like you best complacent.”

“Noted.” And with that, he begins.

You stretch over him as he begins, his shirt on you rising just enough to expose your mid drift. Greedy fingers take the opportunity to run themselves over your soft skin. Cool rings giving eliciting goosebumps. He does it mindlessly, which makes you heat even more

“Stop blushing, you’re distracting me.”

************

Lockwood squints as the curtains are torn open with a cruel screech. George stands a-front him, hands on his hips. You’d never managed to make it back to bed, both having fallen asleep in the sam positions as the hours before. This particularly apparent when Anthony raises his head from the back of the coach, wincing at the soreness in his neck. 

“You know, I may as well take the master bedroom if you’re never gonna use it.” 

“Quiet down, George. You’ll wake her.” The curly-haired boy rolls his eyes when his colleague cuffs his hands over your ears, shielding you from the noise. 

“Good. We have work to do.” 

****

“Our first official case as a team of four.” Your boyfriend beams brightly despite the morbid information in hand. Passing it along so the rest of you can be caught up. 

“Mrs. Hope...Looking to rid her house of a Problem following the demise of her late husband.” George adjusts his glasses as he sums the story to you and Lucy.

“Cheeky.” The girl deadpans, taking a sip of her steaming cup of tea groggily.

“Pay grade. That we desperately need.” You shrug, doing your best to make light of each job despite their implications. 

“George, you should get a head start on the research while we pack the bags. Lucy we have to learn plans A-F, as well.” The three of you nod along, Lockwood tilting his chin upward to allow you better room to adjust his tie, Pulling away so he can offer the portion of buttered toast and chopped fruit he’s plated for you. You only take a strawberry, a polite shake of your head when he pushes it forward once more. 

“Later.” You note, running your fingers under his collar to smooth it out. 

“You should eat.” He’s stern, pulling away his steaming mug you reach for with furrowed brows. “Can’t have tea on an empty stomach, you get all shaky.” Your jaw slacks in half-serious offense at the notion, the pair of you turning your heads toward your colleagues sat at the table, 

“You’ll have to get used to their old-married-folk tendencies. It’s quite insufferable at first, but becomes increasingly tolerable over time.”

“Oh shut it.” It's in unison, only aiding in your flushed demeanors as their grins grow. 

“Told you.” The bastards’ irritatingly smug as he motions toward you. “I’ll be off to the archives, I’ve reached my morning’s capacity of affections.” Anthony’s arms cross with a scoff, eyes trailing over to you and face igniting in a mischievous smirk. Your brows furrow, about to question his sudden change in attitude before he’s on you. Making a show of grabbing the sides of your face and littering kisses all over your face. Pushing so you have to step backward toward a horrified George, hands over his ears as he attempts to escape the treachery. 

Lucy can’t help but laugh. Overcome with the realization of all the agencies in London, she’s likely ended up with the best one. 

[miyuhpapayuh]

23. Would it be okay?

“Hey, sunshine!" Claire greets Stevie as she slides behind the counter to put her apron on. Another white rose to put in her pink vase by her register, for the day.

"Hey, love. How are you?"

"I'm great! I see you are, too!" She pokes her side.

"A lot has happened."

"Like..." Claire trails off, waiting for her to continue.

"I went to go see my family in Cali, Rod got my name tattooed, uhh.."

“Wait, what?" Claire's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth ajar. "He got your name tatted?? Where??"

"On his neck, girl." Stevie leans back on the counter with a dreamy look in her eyes. "It looks so good."

"Wow... a chain and a tattoo! What kind of honey do you got between them thighs, gurl?" 

Stevie covers her bosses mouth.

“You're just as reckless as he is!"

Claire swats her hand and cackles, her eyes flickering toward the door as a customer walks through.

"You're safe, for now. I'm taking you to lunch and we're gonna continue this little conversation." Stevie groans, before throwing herself into work.

Three hours and a stained apron later, Stevie finishes off her coffee cake and joins Claire in her brand new white Jeep.

"Ooh, this is new!" Stevie exclaims, sliding into the cheetah lined passenger seat.

"Bought it, last week, actually!" Claire cheeses, flicking the black ice air freshener, hanging on her mirror. She turns her car on and pulls out of the parking lot.

"Black people and black ice! Jesus!" Stevie face palms.

"I had to! You don't have one in your car??"

"No... is that bad?"

"Nah. If your car smells good, you don't need it."

"Rod's got one in his car. It's the new car scent one."

"Such a man," Claire snickers.

"Same thing I said!" She laughs, folding her hands in her lap. "So, where are we going to eat?"

"Melrose's. She's got the best cuban I've ever tasted." Claire dances in her seat.

"I've always wanted to taste one. They're really good?"

"Yes!" she pats Stevie's leg. "One thing you gotta learn about me is that food is my favorite— second to Bianca, of course."

"I'm learning! How's she, by the way?"

"She's great. She went back home to see her parents and left me all alone for a week. It's so boring."

"Oh, I'm sure you make good use of your time. It can't be that bad." Stevie laughs.

"Well, how did you feel when you went out of town to go see your folks? Didn't you go by yourself?"

"Rod actually went with me." Stevie says before pursing her lips.

"Y'all make me sick. Seriously."

"I'm sorry! But, come on... you don't have anything to occupy your time??"

"Not really!" Claire frowns, "it's just me and Biscuit. Little fucker’s just as sad as I am. Bianca and I take turns calling each other, but it's not the same. I mean, I'm glad she can go see them, but I miss her."

"You're making me sad, Claire. Hopefully the week goes by quickly for you." Claire sighs in response.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

"I'm stuffed." Stevie says, popping another potato chip in her mouth.

"You liked the sandwich, I see." Claire laughs.

"I did! Me and pickles have a love/hate relationship, but it was tolerable. Thanks for lunch, boo."

"Anytime! Now, back to the lot that has happened..." she trails off.

"Oh boy, I knew you were gonna do that," Stevie laughs.

"I went to see my family in Cali. I haven't been there since my grandma died. So, that was something that I had obviously been putting off, but it wasn't bad and I actually ended up having a good time. They fell in love with Rod, of course. Then, we came back and got back into the swing of classes, which hasn't been too bad, either— oh! I actually dropped a bunch of them and I get to graduate early, now!"

"Really?? I'm so happy for you! You've been talking about that forever!"

"I know! It's a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, I tell you. This bachelors degree better pay off!"

"It will! I feel it!" They laugh, before falling into a comfortable silence.

"Can I ask you a question?" Stevie asks.

"Sure, wassup?"

"You ever feel like you're moving really fast in your relationship, but it feels fine at the same time?"

"In the beginning, yeah. That's kinda normal."

"Are we still considered a “new couple”, though?"

"No," Claire laughs, “you guys are basically married, at this point."

"But, where's this coming from?" She asks.

"I don't know... it's just something I've been thinking about. We've been through a lot, since the beginning of our relationship and I just don't wanna jump the gun on anything, even though I feel like we've already done that."

"Well, you guys are different, like any couple, there's different circumstances and understandings. If both of you know what it is, it doesn't matter how anybody else views the pace of your relationship. Y'all are joined at the hip and that's perfectly fine."

"You're right.”

"I know." Claire winks.

Stevie balls up a napkin and tosses it at her head.

"First and last time I ever tell you that."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Finally getting off work, Stevie drags herself upstairs and plops down on her own bed, for a change.

"Ugh, I missed my bed!" She sighs to herself, reaching over to turn her lamp on. She gets up and strips out of her work clothes, throwing on one of Rod's T-shirts, fitting her like a dress.

"Alright, let's see." She grabs her notebook off her nightstand and opens up to a clear page, letting her pen glide across.

Would it be okay?

If I stayed around.

If I got comfortable, in your presence.

Slip into your shadows,

Keep you safe.

Would it be okay?

If I loved you more than life.

If I screamed it to the heavens,

Even though God, herself, already knew?

Destiny. Fate.

I can't hide it.

 Would it be—

Folding the top corner, she yawns and closes her book and lays back down, knocking out in minutes.

An hour later, she's woken up by Rod gently massaging the balls of her feet. Rubbing her eyes, she lazily stares in his direction.

"Hey,"

"You look like a little kid, when you wake up," he chuckles, bending down to kiss her ankle.

"Am I cute kid?"

"Mhm. I hope our babies look just like you." He says, making her heart skips a beat.

"Here I am, hoping they'll look like you." She laughs. "How was your day?"

"Tiring as hell. My first night closing up went smooth, but it's so much I had to do, before I could get outta there. If it wasn't worth it, I'd fight somebody." He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, baby. Here," she pulls her feet out of his grasp and pats the middle of the bed. "I'll rub your back."

Plopping face first into her pink pillow, he makes himself comfortable. She giggles at the sight, actually grabbing her disposable camera and snapping a picture.

"Whatchu gigglin' ‘bout, girl?" His muffled voice aids her laughter.

"Nothing.”

Mounting his lower back, she starts in the middle, working out a knot on the left side. "Pressure fine?"

"Mhm.”

"Okay... I wrote another piece, today."

"Yeah? Have you decided on which one you wanna perform, yet?" He asks.

"I might just do this one. It flowed so naturally."

"Can I read it?"

"No, it's a surprise!" She whines, pressing her thumb into the base of his neck.

"Mngh. I thought I was special, babygirl?"

"Nope. That's not gonna work on me, tonight. Your special ass better be front and center, when I get on that stage."

He laughs. "I told you, I wouldn't miss it for the world. When are you planning on doing it?"

"I'm not sure, yet. Soon, though."

He nods, fully relaxing under her touch, soon falling asleep. Smiling to herself, she slides off his back and snuggles into his side, burying her face in his neck.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

"You really like this dude, huh?" Rod asks Tyler.

"I really do! He's so sweet." Tyler blushes.

"He better be."

"Usually I wouldn't care, cause I don't keep them around, but, I wanna do something right, this time, you know?"

"Yeah, I feel you. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters. Let him know that I fight." He points at her, while backing up.

"Will do." She salutes him. "So, does that make you like big brother or something?"

"Hell yeah! You got me in your corner, shorty."

"Thanks," she gives a soft smile, "for everything, seriously."

"You're welcome, spud." He jogs upstairs, finding Stevie on her computer.

"Whatchu doin', babe?"

"Getting back to my guidance counselor. I need to know how many credits I have, to see how many I need to graduate in February."

"Ah. Aren't you glad you listened to Tyler? You get to get outta there, super early."

"I know! I didn't even know I could graduate this early in advance, but dropping those extra classes made it possible."

"See!, instead of us leaving you, we all get to graduate at the same time." He chuckles, kissing her cheek.

"Josh and Jay are in town tonight, so I'm gonna go hang out with them for a couple hours. I'll be back before–"

"Why're you giving yourself a curfew?" She turns around in her chair, staring up at him.

"Well, I don't wanna just waltz in here, super late, I feel like that's rude."

"Well, if it were a night where I was staying home, I'd agree with you, but I've got plans, too."

"Yeah? Where you headed?"

"Back to the poetry club, so I can talk to Suga and show her my work, see when I can set up a time to perform it." 

He kneels in front of her with a smile on his face.

"Alright, my talented ball of sunshine. Be safe. Call me if you've got any problems, okay?"

"Will do," a couple quick pecks turns into a juicy kiss, leaving her giggling against his lips.

"Okay, okay! Get out, before I cuff you to my bed." He grunts.

"Shit, let me call the fellas, right now." They both laugh and stand up.

"You're so foolish."

"You encourage it, baby. But seriously, have fun. I know you're gonna get your drink on— is Tyler going, too?"

"Yeah, she's got another date, tonight. I actually gotta help her pick out an outfit. She's kinda nervous."

"Yeah, we talked, earlier. She really likes ol' dude."

"He's such a sweetheart! If you met him, you'd like him, too."

"Yeah well, as long as she's happy, that's all that matters. You two have fun tonight."

"You guys, too. Tell your friends I said hello."

"Will do. I love you." He kisses her forehead, then her lips twice more.

"I love you, more."

The pair head out of the room; Rod downstairs and Stevie into Tyler's room, where she's frantically throwing an outfit together.

"Okay, what about this? Since it's cold as shit outside, I can wear my black jeans— you know, the ones that make my butt look fantastic?” Stevie nods. “Okay those, with either the v-cut bodysuit or the purple crop top and throw my oversized jacket over it."

"Do the oversized look, that's cute!"

"Okay. Chunky heels?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, I'm gonna get ready."

"Same. I'll meet you downstairs."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Stepping back into Stevie's new favorite place, she heads straight for the bar, while Tyler heads towards a table where her new boo is waiting on her.

“Have fun!” She calls after her friend.

“You too!” She calls back.

"Hey, beautiful!" Suga greets her with a hug, sitting on the stool beside her.

"Hey, girl!"

"Oooh, is that it??” She points to the book that sits on the countertop.

"It is! You wanna read it??"

"Hell yeah!"

Stevie opens up to the page and sits it in front of Suga, nervously watching her eyes dance across the page.

"Oh, Stevie..." she says, pressing a hand to her chest.

"You hate it, don't you?" Stevie frowns.

"Wha— no!! This is beautiful!"

"Really? It's not too mushy or anything?"

"Babe, you worry too much. It's perfect. I wish I had a love like this poem!" Suga exclaims, making Stevie blushes.

"Okay, stop it!"

"Seriously! I've never been jealous of words, until now."

"My cheeks are gonna fall off my face, if you don't stop!"

"Okay, I quit. When do you wanna perform it??"

"Like, within the next week or so would be great! Ya know, before I lose the nerve."

"Okay! Let me go grab Carmen. She's the owner."

"Okay, cool! Thank you!”

As Stevie's waiting to meet the illustrious Carmen, her eyes trail over to Tyler in order to get a glimpse of how well her date is going, and her jaw hits the ground at what she sees.

Chris is lifted from his seat slightly to meet Tyler's lips in a lip lock that feels steamy, even at a distance.

"Alright, now," Stevie remarks quietly as she sips her tropical lemonade.

Her people watching continues for a few moments more, taking in the melanated group of lovers and friends alike.

"Hey, Stevie," Suga catches her attention, causing her to swivel in her seat in the direction of her voice, "this is Carmen."

She's greeted with a caramel-toned woman in her mid-20s, with a head full of shocking red curls and delicate features.

"Suga's told me so much about you! It's nice to finally meet you." Her voice is just as delicate.

"Likewise," she responds. "This is definitely one of my favorite places to be."

Her smile is warm, yet lights up the room. "I'm glad. I hear you're ready to get up on that stage. Now I hope you don't mind, but Suga let me take a glimpse at the piece you're thinking about performing, and girl it's dope! Made we wanna love on somebody."

Stevie blushes a deep crimson at the compliment, chuckling softly.

"Thanks. It's unfinished actually."

"Well sweetheart, whenever it's finished you're more than welcome to a spot on our night for new talent."

Stevie has butterflies of excitement and nervousness when she hears that.

"You're serious?" Stevie asks, just to make sure this isn't some cruel joke.

"As serious as serious can get, baby doll. You got something special."

Her heart soars and her cheeks flush once again, not used to the profuse amount of love for her craft.

"I can't thank you enough, Carmen. I won't let you two down," she says, addressing the two women.

"I know," Carmen winks. She quietly excuses herself to make her rounds around the place.

Stevie thanks Suga one more time, before she decides to not be a third wheel in Tyler's budding romance and take the train back home.

She walks the easy block and a half to the nearest station, taking in the full-bodied sounds of the city that have become music to her over the years.

Descending the concrete steps, she's greeted with a scent she'll probably never get used to, muttering all the money this damn city makes, and they can't scrub the piss smell outta here.

She looks left to right, and makes sure the coast is clear. She hops the turnstile like it's a hurdle, as if the heels she wears are tennis shoes.

Her timing is impeccable as the trusty red line subway car pulls up right as the toe of her shoe hits the yellow line.

Stepping on, she thanks the man upstairs that it's not crowded. Clutching onto the pole, she quietly hums as the train starts moving.

Feeling like she's being watched, she turns her head in the direction of the perpetrator, his coal black eyes scanning her body, making her feel like she needs a shower.

Her skin prickling up with anxiety as every bad memory, attached to a man, comes flooding back to her. A chill rushes up her spine as her brain screams run.

Her eyes become trained on the doors, as the insides of her hands clam up. Her curiosity leads her eyes back towards the man. The tattoo on his hand caused her mind to race.

Her heart starts beating triple time as the train continues to take its sweet time getting to its first stop.

She can feel his eyes on her as she keeps her gaze forward.

"It's okay... we'll get off soon." She whispers to herself.

Coming to a stop, she watches a couple of people get off, before coolly walking off behind them. She peers over her shoulder, watching him flash a smirk her way but stay on the train.

As the train whizzes away into the darkness, a rush of relief comes over her as she heads towards the street. Grabbing her phone out of her purse, she calls Rod.

He picks up on the first ring. "Hey, baby. You good?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just— I don't know. I had a moment, I guess." She walks into the nearest corner store.

"What do you mean, a moment?"

"I had the bright idea to take the train back home and there was this guy that kept staring at me. He looked so much like John and I don't know... I just freaked out, so I got off a helluva lot earlier than I should have."

"Baby, where are you?"

"Chuey's food mart. But, listen, you don't have to come and get me. I can call a cab or—"

“For what? It's almost ten o'clock. It's too dark for you to be catching cabs, when I can just come and get you."

"But, you're out with your boys!" She sighs as she heads down an aisle, "I feel like I'd be cutting your night short."

"We can meet up, whenever. Your safety is more important to me, right now." He assures her.

"Okay."

"Ima catch y'all later, aight?... yeah, gotta get my shorty to the crib... aight, baby girl. I'm on my way."

"Alright." She hangs up and walks around the spacious store, picking up a couple snacks along the way.

Ten minutes go by, and she's standing in front of the many candy choices, when the chimes go off near the front and the sound Rod's car keys fill her ears.

Passing by a couple of people, she spots the back of his head as he searches for her. Catching up to him, she tugs on his jacket.

He turns around and the worried crease in his forehead disappears as he pulls her into his chest, a heavy sigh leaving him.

"You're smushing my snacks!" She giggles as he rocks her side to side. "Rod!"

A soft laugh escapes her as he pulls away to hold her face in his hands.

"Seems like you missed me."

"Hell yeah! I was worried about you, girl."

"I didn't mean to worry you." She frowns.

"It's okay, baby. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm glad you're here." She links her finger in his jacket pocket. "Did you speed?"

"Maybe, a little. I ain't wanna waste no time– leave an opportunity for something bad to happen, ya know?"

"Yeah,” she sighs, “thanks for coming to get me. I appreciate you."

She stands on her tiptoes, staining his lips with her gloss.

"It's never a problem, babygirl." He grabs the snacks out of her hands to carry himself.

"Let's see what we got here," he announces from behind her as she walks down another aisle. "Salt and vinegar chips— ah, the chip of choice! We got some sno balls... some hostess cupcakes. Hm, you on your period?"

"You know," she abruptly turns around, making him bump into her, "I hate that you know me that well. And, no I've got like another week, I think."

"Well, it'd be dumb if I didn't pick on something, at this point," he chuckles. "And, you think?"

"Yeah... what's today?"

"The fifteenth. I only know that, ‘cause my milk expired today."

"I hope you threw it away."

"I will, when I get home."

She scoffs. "Anyway. It usually comes on the twentieth."

"Oh, okay. Oh yeah! What did they say about you performing?"

"I'm gonna perform on their night for new talent," a cheesy smile makes its way onto both of their faces.

"That's amazing! When??" He asks.

"Friday! Can you make it?"

"Hey, I told you that I would be there. I might have to tie Lee to his chair for a few hours," he says, making Stevie roll her eyes at his antics, "but, I'll be there."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

For the past fifteen minutes, Stevie has been pacing back and forth, rehearsing her poem.

To say she's nervous is definitely an understatement. If it wasn't a guarantee that Rod would be able to make it to her performance, she might've went insane.

"Okay, Nikki Giovanni, you ready?” Tyler walks into her room, fiddling with the cuffs on her black button-down.

Stevie scoffs at the name. "Don't give me that much credit. You think Nikki got this nervous, before her performances?"

"Duh. Everybody's susceptible to being nervous. You're gonna kill it, alright? Don't stress.” She assures her, rubbing her shoulder.

"Thanks. How do I look?"

"Like you wanna end up pregnant, by the end of the night." 

Stevie rolls her eyes, turning back to the mirror.

"What?? You asked." Tyler defends.

"Yes. Cause, a simple “you look good” wouldn't have sufficed."

"Well, that was my way of saying it. But, okay you look so damn good, friend!  Are you ready, now?" Tyler asks, smirking at the middle finger she gave her through the mirror.

"Yeah.” She sighs, reaching for her coat and bag. “Let's go, before I hide under my bed."

“Oh my god!” Tyler cackles, pushing her out of the room and down the steps.

Fifteen minutes later, Rod heads backstage, finding Stevie knocking back a shot of Brandy. As she fixes her skirt, he slides up behind her, waving the pink roses in her line of sight.

"For you, beautiful."

The gasp she lets out makes him laugh. She turns around and throws her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, baby! And, thank God, you're here. I've been going absolutely crazy for the last hour!"

"I thought you said you weren't nervous?" He sits the flowers on the table and rubs her shoulders.

"Well, I wasn't! Until I re-realized that I'd be speaking in front of a bunch of strangers and now I'm terrified. What if I mess up? What if they don't like it, you know? What if I vomit on stage, like I did when I was younger??" She spirals, wide-eyed.

"Hey, look at me." He cups her chin, her wandering orbs lining up with his. "You're gonna go out there and do amazing. You're not gonna mess up. It's normal to be nervous. It's your first time. But, you've got this. Your poetry is phenomenal. Anybody would be a fool to dislike it."

"You really mean that?" She asks.

"Every word."

A playful pout graces her lips as she kisses him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, can I get something off my chest, right quick?" He asks with a heavy breath.

Her freshly waxed left brow raises.

"What?"

"You look so fucking good, vie.”

She blushes, instantly.

“Yeah?” Her voice came out small.

“Mm, smell good, too. Do a spin for me,” he steps away from her, watching her twirl.

Her curls bounced underneath her brown fur hat, skin shimmering in her matching off the shoulder top and pants, chunky heels to set the look off. Mascara, her signature lip and scent combo.

"Mm.. whatever you want, you can have it."

"Shut up!" She laughs as he pulls her back to him.

"I'm serious."

"Anything, huh?"

"Mhm., my car, my crib, money... last name, kids.." their lips naturally reunite in heat, squashing her nerves and almost making her forget about her whereabouts.

"Rod," her hands slide up his chest.

"Hm?"

"It's almost time for me to go on," she mumbles, giggling at his relentless pecks.

"Aight. you still nervous?"

"No, but I've gotta redo my lipstick, now." She shakes her head, wiping it off his mouth.

"My bad, shorty. I can't get enough, sometimes."

"Hey, Stevie!— oh, I'm sorry. I'll come back.

They turn to look at Suga in the doorway, before snickering.

"No, you're fine! Suga, this is my boyfriend, Rod. Rod, this is Suga."

"It's nice to meet you! I've heard nothing but wonderful things." They shake hands.

"Likewise. I appreciate you helpin' my girl out and getting her up on this stage."

"It's no problem. She's a super talented woman."

"That, she is." His gaze lingers on Stevie, making her swoon at the sight.

"So cute! I just came to tell you that we've got a couple minutes. You all set to go?"

"Yeah, let me fix my makeup, really quick." She rushes over towards her bag to reapply.

"Ima go grab my seat." he walks over and kisses the top of her head. "You're gonna do amazing."

"Thank you, baby." She smiles.

He mirrors her expression, before heading out to the front.

"Where'd you find him? He got any brothers?" Suga asks, sitting on the leather couch.

“That he does, let me find out you tryna get the hook up,” Stevie laughs, turning towards her once she's done.

“Hook me up, girl!” Suga joins in, before standing to her feet. “You ready?”

"I am! Let's do this."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

“Alright y'all, give it up for our next newcomer, Stevie!”

The applause makes Stevie smile as she emerges from behind the curtain and takes Suga's spot on the stage.

"Thanks," she nervously pushes a curl behind her ear. "I'm a little nervous, so bear with me. This piece is called Would it be okay? It's a personal piece of mine. I'm actually really excited to share it with y'all, so I hope y'all enjoy it." Her eyes set on Rod, sending a wink his way.

A soft light graces her physique as she calms herself and begins speaking.

Would it be okay?

If I stayed around.

If I got comfortable, in your presence.

Slip into your shadows,

Keep you safe.

Would it be okay?

If I loved you more than life.

If I screamed it to the heavens,

Even though God, herself, already knew?

Destiny. Fate.

I can't hide it.

Would it be okay?

If I was scared...

If I wanted you to hold me in your arms.

Shield me from my troubles.

Would it be okay?

If making love to you was my favorite pastime.

Your lips on mine.

Your breath on me.

Your touch.

Your taste.

Would it be okay?

If I wanted to live in your skin.

Would it be okay?

The whistles, snaps and cheering pulls her out of the locked gaze that her and Rod were locked in.

She gracefully bows and heads offstage, immediately getting pulled into a bear hug from Tyler and Suga.

"Can I just say.... wow!” Tyler claps.

"You did amazing!! I mean, I knew you had potential, but the way you commanded everybody's attention up there?? That was a sight to see." Suga praises.

"Thanks, you guys! It felt great to finally get up there. That was a rush!” She laughs.

"I think someone else enjoyed it, too." Rod clears his throat, making his way around the girls to the other side of Stevie, flowers back in hand.

"Again," he laughs, "these are for you. You did absolutely amazing." The twinkle in his eyes makes her melt.

"Thank you, baby." Grabbing the bouquet from him, she holds them close to her chest, blushing underneath his gaze.

"Ugh, this feels like high school love!” Tyler faux sobs, earning a collective sucking of the teeth from the pair.

"Go find your boyfriend and leave me alone, ty." Stevie says with a roll of the eyes.

"Ah, she's conquered her stage fright and now she's being feisty. You're on a roll, tonight." She winks.

"You two are a mess," Rod adds with a chuckle.

"Indeed. Come on, Tyler. You two can fight, later." Angel hooks their arms and leads them towards the other side of the club.

Rod leads Stevie towards their table, pulling out her chair for her. "What do you want to drink?"

"You know, cosmos have become my favorite, as of late." She cheeses.

"Comin' right up." He winks, heading towards the bar.

"Hey, pretty lady!" Chad stops at her table. "You did amazing!"

"Oh, thank you!"

"No problem. You got some serious talent."

"I appreciate that. It was nerve racking, getting up there, but I'm glad I finally did it."

"So, you gonna make this a regular thing? The crowd loved you."

"It's always been my dream!, it'd be kinda stupid if I didn't. I'm gonna talk to Carmen—"

"Consider it done. I'll run it by her and get back to you. Sound good?"

"Hell yeah!," she jumps in her seat, laughing.

"Aight, good! You know, if you start gettin' real good, we start paying you."

"Really??, that sounds amazing." Rod comes back to the table with drinks in hand, his gaze on Chad.

"Hey, man." Chad greets him.

"Wassup.," he gives a stiff nod.

"Ya girl is pressure, no denyin' it. I just came to congratulate her on her debut night."

"I appreciate y'all lettin' her shine, up there."

"A diamond shines everywhere she goes.," Stevie slightly chokes on her drink at his corniness, covering it up with a small laugh. "You two enjoy the rest of your night. I'll see you, soon." He pats her shoulder and walks away.

"What was y'all talking about?" His gaze shifts to her, chuckling at the little dance she's doing in her seat to faint music playing.

"He's gonna talk to Carmen and see if I can make this a regular thing., and if I start getting really good, they'll start paying me." She cheeses, sipping on her drink.

"Really?," his eyes light up, "that's amazing, baby." He rubs her knee.

"Isn't it? I could stop working at Claire's, even though, I love her so much, I could!"

"You could. You should tell her, I'm sure she'd be happy for you."

"Yeah, I'll tell her when I go in, tomorrow."

"What time you gotta be there?"

"Three."

He nods, bringing his drink up to his lips. Her eyes dance over his face as the knowing smirk comes out to play, once his glass returns to the table.

"I'm gonna put you in time out." She folds her arms on the table, leaning towards her drink.

"Why?"

"Because, you keep putting me out of commission," they share a laugh.

"You so fine, I can't help it." He wets his bottom lip, making her bite her own.

"Trouble, is what you are." She speaks lowly, shaking her head.

The hand that's on her knee starts to walk up her thigh, spreading out to cuff her flesh. "And somehow... you're at the center of it, every time."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Heavy breathing can be heard throughout the dimly lit bedroom.

His lips sliding off hers, taut ass in her grip with every stroke grazing against her spot, driving her crazy.

"Oh shhhit!," her whines float through the air as he digs deeper, while nipping at her soft skin.

"Wanna live in my skin, huh?" He rasps in her ear.

"Yes, baby," she breathily whimpers.

Coming back into her line of view with his hand slowly gripping her neck, his lips hover over he own.

"Tell me you love me," he mumbles, tugging at her bottom lip.

"Unh...I love you," her jaw slacks as he picks up his pace, stimulating her spot with more pressure. Her hands grip his biceps, tightly.

"Say it, again."

"I love you, shit!.... that feels so good," she moans, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"Say it again, baby," he reaches his free hand in between them to rub her clit, her hand quickly gripping his wrist.

"I love you," she whimpers, staring into his eyes.

“Fuck, I love you vie.”

He leans up and speeds up, her hands find the back of his neck as her eyes roll back.

"You're gonna make me cum!"

"Mhm, cum on this dick."

A whine like no other leaves her lips as her eyes roll back, her walls tighten around him as her orgasm jolts through her, leaving her entire body thumping.

A chill rushes up his spine as he brings his thrusts to a halt.

"Fuck..” he moans, leaning down to kiss her lips as she comes down enough to reciprocate, her tongue finding his own.

He grunts and pulls away, flipping her over. With her ass high in the air, his palm quickly reddens her flesh and makes her leak down her thighs, double time.

"Look at that." His thumb circles her clit, her body seizing up at his touch. "Makin' a mess all over my sheets, girl." His mouth salivates at the sight of her nectar leaking down her leg.

"Mmf," she bites her lip, "don't tease me, baby..."

Lining back up with her sticky entrance, he pushes into her roughly, earning a heavy gasp from her.

"Oooh, shit!"

Picking up his tempo, he adds a roll of his hips, sending her clawing at his thigh with one hand and clawing at the sheets with the other.

"Oh shit, oh shit! Oh fuck!" Her thighs tremble as her orgasm creams onto his already soaked shaft.

"That's right," his grip tightens on her waist. "Soak that dick." 

Pulling out, he taps his dick against her clit before pushing back in, picking up where he left off.

"Unh! s-slow down," she grasps his thigh.

Doing just that, he wraps an arm around her, gripping her neck. Her hands find the sheets, gripping them up as he sensually wines his hips into her.

"Just like that.... oh, babyyy!"

Nose deep in her sweet-smelling hair, his moans become more frequent, turning her on. She begins to meet him halfway, adding more friction.

"Shit, vie... feel like a fucking dream." His free hand slaps her ass as he tries to regain control. Reaching back, she digs her nails into his hip.

"Fuck!— ugh! Unh! Just like that!"

Digging deeper, her eyes roll back and her moans increase in volume.

"Just like this?"

"—yes!”

Her thighs quiver as she tries to push him away, the pleasure becoming too much. Grabbing her wrists and binding them behind her back, he continues.

"Take it, then."

Her moans are muffled as her face hides in the cover. Eyes shut tightly as her body tightens up, a breathy curse leaving her lips.

"Shit..." he moans, pulling out slowly and pushing back in, their breathing falls in sync as the heat in the room rises.

Releasing her wrists, he pulls her up in his lap as she leans up on her hands. 

One hand in her curls and the other wrapped around her neck, his strokes start off curt. Her brows furrow as her moans fill his ears.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck," fingers gripping the sheets, her toes curl at the intensity of her pleasure.

"Say my name." He rasps.

"Rod," she yelps.

"Say it, again."

"Oh my God, Roderick!" She moans. "You're gonna make me c—cum!"

"Fuck... keep squeezin' me, baby."

"Oh my God... oh my God," her breath gets caught in her throat, while her climax rises to the surface. His own on the horizon with every stroke.

"Cum on this dick, baby.... I feel it.. give it to me," the gravel in his tone makes her soak his lap with a single squeal. His own orgasm forcing his body to fall slack on hers.

Flattening out underneath him, she laughs a bit, pushing her hair out of her face, while he repositions himself to not totally crush her, even though she didn't mind.

"Wanna know something?" He asks, intertwining their fingers, his beard tickling the bare skin of her shoulder as he places kisses there.

"What?"

"Makin' love to you is my favorite pastime, too." He replies with a goofy grin, making her giggle.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Tiredly pulling the door open, Stevie heads in the back, stuffing her jacket in her locker. Taking her hair-tie off her wrist, she pulls her curls into a sloppy bun and heads back up front.

"Hey, girl," Rena waves, her and Alana studying her worn out expression.

She grabs her apron and glances at them.

"Hey, guys.”

"Are you alright?" Alana asks.

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Oh yeah! Your debut was last night. How'd it go?" Rena asks, excitedly.

"It went great.” Stevie smiles, leaning on the countertop.

"I was nervous as hell, but I made it through. Everybody really liked it. That also kinda made me kinda nervous, but also really happy.” She laughs.

"Aw, that's so great! I'm so happy for you!" Alana says.

"Yeah, that's amazing," Rena adds, "did you celebrate?"

"Yeah, and I probably shouldn't have."

"Why not?"

"Well, I've got a hangover and I was almost late." She sighs.

"Relax, sweet cheeks," Claire comes out of her office. "I know last night was super important to you. I wouldn't have tripped."

"Thanks, Claire."

"Of course. Did your rock head of a boyfriend like it?"

Stevie laughs. "He liked it more than anybody else."

"Oh, that's why ya ass was limpin' when you came in," Rena mumbles, before tending to a customer.

Stevie rolls her eyes. "Maybe you should get laid."

"Relax," Rena defends. "I was just playing around."

"Mm... Anyway," she turns back towards Claire.

"I've gotta talk to you, later. It's super important."

Claire excuses them, pulling them into her cozy office.

"So, how was your night?" She asks.

"It was great! I was so nervous, but the reassurance that I received mellowed me out. I got up on that stage and I knew, at that moment, that I belonged up there. It was amazing." Stevie gushes.

"That's incredible, babe. I gotta come and see you! I'm sad I missed the first one."

"That'd be great. I'd love for you to come!”

"Let me know when your next performance is and I'll put it on my calendar. Now, what's this dilemma you've got going on?"

"Well, Carmen said that if I start getting really good, they'll start paying me." She says, twiddling her fingers.

"Really?? Oh, that's guaranteed money, then! I'm sure you're amazing!"

"Well, I think I'm alright—but, yeah! That's huge, right? I get paid to do what I love."

"Anybody's dream, yes. I'm not seeing an issue here."

"If I start getting paid there.. I could start doing that more often and not.. have to work here anymore."

"Absolutely. I would hope that you wouldn't pass up an opportunity of a lifetime, to serve coffee with some friends."

The sarcasm in her voice makes Stevie laugh.

"Did you think I was gonna be upset?"

"Well, maybe upset isn't the word."

"Well, it's gonna suck not having you here, but I'd never keep you from doing what you love. That's not a friend."

"This is true. Well, nothing's official, yet. You still have me."

"And, I'm delighted!"

“Okay,” she breathes. “I feel better now.”

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Slinging her bag over her chair, Stevie turns her lamp on and sits down, opening up her poetry book.

Clicking her pen, she begins to write.

Love so amazing,

It outshines the moon.

Love so hot,

It burns brighter than the sun.

So intense,

It makes you blush.

So—

She smudges her writing as the ringing of her new house phone scares the mess out of her. Snatching the cordless phone off its base, without looking at the caller ID, she utters a slightly agitated hello.

"Ah, breaking the phone in with attitude, are we?" Rod's voice comes through.

"Well, you know, the ringer is extremely loud on this thing. Sorry for the attitude, I suppose."

"You suppose, huh? Guess we'll see about that, later."

"Whatever. How's work?" She asks, twirling a random strand of hair around her finger.

He laughs. "It's cool. I miss you."

"Aw, I miss you too. Want me to come by? I can bring you food, if you haven't eaten yet."

"I'd love that. Seeing your pretty face always brightens my mood." She blushes.

"Oh, stoppp," she drags out, closing her book and standing up from her chair.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Uh, how about pizza?"

"Alright. I'm gonna change and get the food, and I'll be there."

"Okay, babe. See you soon."

About thirty minutes later he hears the chime go off, Rod turns around to see Stevie walking through the door. He snickers at her wardrobe.

"You cold, babygirl?" He asks, gesturing towards his black sweatshirt swallowing her top half, while her black leggings cling to her bottom half.

"Yes!" Her teeth chatter as she sits the pizza box on the counter, rounding the counter to stuff her face into his chest. "It's windy as hell, out there."

"Aw," he coos, rubbing his warm hands over her back. "I'll turn the heat up."

"Thank you. Where do you want me to put this?" she points to the pizza box.

Moving away from her, he locks the door and hangs the sign, before grabbing the pizza from her.

"Follow me."

Following him into the second room on the right, she sits down at the black round table. He opens the box and pulls out a slice.

She follows suit, picking the pepperonis off and popping them in her mouth. He chuckles at the sight.

"One day, it's gonna land on your nose." He jokes. She rolls her eyes.

"Shut up. How's your day been?" He sits in the chair beside her, still munching on his food.

"It's actually been pretty dead in here, today. But, I'm not trippin. We still made sales for the day. How's your writing going?" He grabs a napkin and cleans his hands.

"Well, before you called me, I was in my zone," she laughs. "I think it'll be the next piece I perform."

"Look at you, all bright eyed and bushy tailed!" He teases, poking her cheek.

"You sound like an old man!" She jokes.

“Old?” He laughs, clutching his chest in faux hurt.

“Old as hell,” she nods.

"Alaina, I will throw you outta here." He chuckles.

"In the cold?? The disrespect."

"Yeah, well," he shrugs.

"Yeah, well," she mocks, throwing a balled up napkin at him.

"Keep it up." He stands from his chair, heading towards the soda machine, grabbing two cokes.

"Or what?"

"Ima let you find out."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Plopping down on her bed, she stares at her clock, snorting as it reads 3:45 a.m.

"I'm gonna kill you." She groans, just as Rod waltzes into the room. Handing her a bottle of water, he sits down beside her.

"What did I do, besides what you asked me to?"

"I asked you to damn near break me in half?" She asks, an incredulous look on her face, making him crack up.

"Those weren't your exact words— but, yes, you were asking for it. Then, you didn't want me to stop."

She thanks God that the room is dark and the rosiness of her cheeks are concealed. "Anyway—"

"Mhm. That's what I thought."

"Anyways! Tyler and I are supposed to get our hair done tomorrow, because one of her cousins is getting married, and she asked Tyler at the last minute to be a damn bridesmaid— and for whatever reason, I have to be one, too."

"A wedding in the fall? Hm.. that's uh..”

"It's cold. That's the word you're looking for."

"What are the colors?"

"White and gold. The usual."

"You know what the dress looks like?"

"Not yet, no. I'll see it tomorrow."

"When's the wedding?"

"Saturday. I hope the wind doesn't blow us down."

"You're so dramatic, you know that?"

"I do. You're annoying— did you know that?" She smirks.

"I did," he joins in on the laughter.

"Good. Now, can we go to sleep?"

"Hey, we coulda been sleeping, a long time ago. But, someone wanted to ride around and smoke."

She scoffs and snatches her pullover off, along with her sweats and gets under the cover.

He laughs and follows suit, pulling her back into his chest. The warmth of his body made her turn in his hold and snuggle closer to him.

"Love you." She whispers.

"Love you too, you little brat."

Love so amazing,

It outshines the moon.

Love so hot,

It burns brighter than the sun.

So intense,

It makes you blush.

So genuine, 

It makes your heart flutter.

Who knew it could all feel like a fairytale?

Who knew it could be this sweet?

Who knew love, like this, existed?

Who knew...

@ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @harmshake @honeysunned @lemmewritesomeish @blowmymbackout @planetblaque @motheroffae @blackerthings @sheabuttahwrites @abeautifulmindexposed @honestpreference @mauvecherie-writes @megamindsecretlair @henneseyhoe @vonsbabymama2005 @consent-is-king @twistedcharismaaa @starcrossedxwriter

[spacechalk]

Gouda

“Muriel!” Aziraphale called, head buried in the refrigerator. “Did you eat the gouda?”

            Muriel popped up beside him. “What’s a gouda?” they asked excitedly, eyes roaming the interior of the refrigerator like they were about to witness a new and exotic form of life.

            “It’s cheese,” Aziraphale said. “It comes in a red rind. Like this?” He held up the shards of rind he had found glued to a shelf. Muriel nearly went cross-eyed looking at his fingers.

            “Oh! Yes!” They nodded with satisfaction. “I ate that.”

            Aziraphale sighed. “For future reference,” he said, turning away from the refrigerator with his arms laden, “you’re supposed to peel the rind off. You don’t eat it.”

            “Oh,” Muriel said, expression contemplative. “It did taste bad.”

            “Yes, it would,” Aziraphale said. He began stacking the brie and salami into the basket. Muriel watched with fascination.

            “Can I come on the picnic?” they asked eagerly.

            “Not this time,” Aziraphale said, tucking a jar of olives safely against the side. “We’ll bring you next time, okay?”

            Muriel blew hair out of their face. “Okay,” they said. “Will you tell me all about it when you get back?”

            “I’ll be sure to tell you the highlights,” he said dryly.

Muriel beamed. Leaning forward on the desk with their chin in their hands, they asked, “What are picnics for?”

            Despite himself, Aziraphale cast them a fond smile. “They’re for fun,” he said.

            Muriel kept watching him, eyes round and expectant.

            “We’re going to eat delicious things, take advantage of the spring weather, and enjoy each other’s company,” he said, waving Muriel aside so he could reach the napkins. “Does that help?”

            Muriel scrunched up their face. “And you can only do that outside?”

            Aziraphale smiled. “It’s good to have a change of scenery every now and then,” he said.

            The bell on the door jingled and Crowley’s voice came from the doorway. “Sorry I’m late,” he called. “I couldn’t decide on drinks.” He spotted Aziraphale and Muriel by the desk and started toward them.

            He had dressed for the occasion. A black sunhat with a blue band perched over the braid that trailed down between his shoulder blades. The short, twisted straps on his shirt dress revealed the freckles scattered across his shoulders. The tapered sides of the dress danced beside the knees that were revealed below the hem with each step. The usual silver scarf and necklace were in place. His boots still managed to be loud on the carpet of the shop floor.

            He stopped in front of them and held out the bottles in his arms. “I got a red and champagne,” he said. “All right?”

            Aziraphale ran his hand down the front of the waistcoat he was wearing, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about it. “Yes,” he said. “Those look lovely, my dear.”

            “Good,” Crowley said, stowing them in the basket. “Ready to go then?”

            “Just a moment,” Aziraphale said. He retreated to a cabinet and retrieved two boxes of biscuits.

            “Great,” Crowley said, lifting the basket. “Shall we go? We’re burning daylight.”

            “Keep an eye on the shop, will you, Muriel,” Aziraphale called over his shoulder as he took Crowley’s hand and was led out of the shop.

            “Have fun!” Muriel called after them, flapping their hand like they were waving off a naval ship.

__

            Crowley sprawled on the blanket, not bothering to keep his legs together. Aziraphale sat beside him, slightly less buttoned-up than usual with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaning back on his hands. He closed his eyes, savoring the breeze.

            Many other people had had the same idea as them and the park was crowded, the grass teeming with children and dogs. One family settled their blanket too far inside the polite distance maintained by strangers and Aziraphale tried not to resent them. He could hear every word they were saying as the children tramped their muddy shoes all over the blanket, one mother searched frantically in the hamper for the juice boxes, and the other mother fought the dog for a ball. He felt a headache coming on.

            Suddenly the babbling of the family turned to shrieks.

            “Ow! Ow! Something’s biting me!”

            “What the hell – ”

            “It’s in my pants!”

            Aziraphale risked a glance over.

            The little family was in chaos as a seething mass rose up from under their blanket and spilled around them. Thousands, possibly millions, of ants emerged seemingly from the earth and swarmed the family. It seems they had set their blanket down directly on a nest.

            The family made a hasty exit, leaving the blanket behind entirely, apparently believing it to be a lost cause. Aziraphale cast his companion a look from under his eyebrows.

            “Crowley,” he said reproachfully.

            Crowley cackled.

            Aziraphale offered a quick prayer that the family’s bites would be soothed and healed. Turning back, he dared to allow himself a moment to admire his counterpart. 

            “That’s a very nice hat, dear,” he said.

            “I burn easily,” Crowley said defensively.

            Aziraphale hesitated, then boldly reached out to skim his fingers over the freckles already blossoming on Crowley’s shoulders. Crowley sucked in a sharp breath.

            “Aziraphale!”

            Aziraphale flinched and pulled back as though caught. Crowley groaned.

            “Aziraphale!” the voice came again.

            “No,” Aziraphale said crossly as Muriel skidded to a stop in front of them. Crowley sat up, waving his hands at Muriel like he was warding off a swarm of flies. “Piss off,” he growled.

            Muriel clasped their hands over their chest, eyes wide. “Please?” they begged. “I don’t know what to do!”

            Aziraphale sighed.

            “Aziraphale,” Crowley said warningly. Aziraphale didn’t heed him.

            “What happened?” he asked wearily.

            Muriel’s face brightened with relief. “Some people came into the shop and they said they wanted to give me books! That’s not how it works, is it?”

            Despite himself, Aziraphale perked up. “Oh? What kind of books did they have?”

            Muriel looked lost. “Ones…in a box?”

            Aziraphale waved a hand. “No matter. Tell them we’ll take them and put them in the back room. Make sure to write down their phone number so we can contact them about payment if we do end up putting any of them on the floor.”

            “If,” Crowley muttered moodily beside him. Aziraphale ignored him.

            “Okay!” Muriel said, immensely relieved. “I can do that!”

            “Yes you can my dear,” Aziraphale said encouragingly as Muriel beamed and took off across the green again.

            “They’re never going to learn if you keep digging them out,” Crowley complained. He waved a hand. “Sink or swim. That’s how you build confidence.”

            “Yes, but everything is so new to them!” Aziraphale said. “Some guidance while they get some experience under their belt will set them up for success later.”

            Crowley rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the blanket. Aziraphale looked down at him. He wiggled a little and then lay down beside him, their shoulders touching. If he tilted his head it would be like he was resting it on Crowley’s shoulder. He promptly did so.

            “How long can picnics last, do you think?” he asked hopefully.

            “Hmm,” Crowley said, faux-thoughtfully. He shifted so that they were pressed more firmly together. Aziraphale tried not to wiggle again. “I was once on picnic that lasted a whole week.”

            Aziraphale tilted his head so he could see his face. “Were you?” he asked fondly. “What happened?”

            “Well, you see, the Mount Auburn Cemetery had just opened and the crowds were bonkers…”

[moonspirit]

Annie and Armin’s cat headcannons!

Hello anon!

Aruani have a calico cat as far as I'm concerned and that is one. sassy. cat!

She hisses. She bites. She claws. She attracts boys. She attracts girls. She cuddles. She nuzzles. She headbutts. She attacks. She protects. She finishes. She kisses.

That's Aruani's calico cat! Always sleek and smooth and fiercely independent (but also needing a generous dose of Mom Time and Dad Time).

Annie's the recipient of her tough love tactics. They have a tacit understanding - we're equals. We're both warriors. We both need to protecc this house and family. I claw you, you claw me. Tummy rubs are prohibited unless one of us wins a fight. I steal a bite from your donut, you can have one (1) go at rubbing under my chin (0.5 seconds before I bite you tho). But anything's wrong with Annie? Calico CANNOT BE CALMED! CALICO ANGRY PURR! CALICO RAGE!

Armin, however, is the recipient of all her biscuits. Calico makes a TON of biscuits. Big baker, you see. Armin gets biscuits on his face, on his butt, on his stomach... anytime he's lying down anywhere, CALICO BISCUIT TIME! He also gets softly bitten because he's chewable like that and both girlfriend and cat agree - the boy's made of cheese or something. She brings him a rat every day because it's painfully clear he cannot hunt and will starve unless she provides for him. Primary breadwinner of the family - CALICO MONEY!

When sleeping, Calico prefers to smother Annie first and then give whatever's left of her Super Sleek Fur Experience™ to Armin. Fair distribution.

[soufcakmistress]

Unveil

Part IV

A/N: I know yall wanna fight me LOL I couldn’t figure this next part out to save my life. But my brain is working a little better now, and I wanted to get this out. Not me posting two fics two days in a row! Don’t get comfortable because this is out of the norm LOL stay tuned boos!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black Reader

Snoring peacefully in the king bed of the guest house with an open window, the loud buzz of a lawnmower startled you almost to death. Erik’s baritone carried over to the guesthouse, guiding the landscaper while giving him notes. Rolling your eyes internally at the thought of Erik, you gather up the courage to roll over and pick up the burner Erik gave you. It was time to let your best friend know what’s up. Knowing her cell number by heart, your fingers tremble as you input the digits. It only rings once.

“Y/N???? Y/N? Sis is that you??” Denitra sounded like she had been waiting by the phone the whole time for a call from a number she wouldn’t even recognize. You immediately burst into tears. Everything from the past is flooding back. You and Nitra busting ass for midterms. You supporting her when she crossed and wrangling all the balloons at her probate. Y’all squealing over the gigantic engagement ring Eddie proposed to you with. The last embrace you guys ever had before you left behind all that you ever knew.

“Hi baby. I’m sorry. It’s just so good to hear your voice. I’m okay! I’m okay.”

Denitra shut her office door closed, and paced back and forth nervously. “Where are you, Y/N? Are you alone??? Do you still have money? Has he tried to still—“

You give a good belly laugh with your face still wet with tears because that’s how your best friend is. Making sure A and B equal C. “Nitra, take a breath sis. I promise I’m okay. I’m not gonna tell you where I am, so do not ask. Just know that I’m being taken care of properly.”

Nitra looked at her phone like it had three heads. “Bitch, who is taking care of you???” More belly laughs from you. Y’all chat it up for the next 30 minutes. You’re very careful about revealing any info to your best friend. If there’s anything you know about your ex fiancé, it’s that he will stop at nothing for information. Giving her plausible deniability could save Nitra from his wrath. Or push him further into mania. You had to believe in your heart of hearts she would be safe if she didn’t know anything, for your own sanity.

~

“Miss Y/N, I have prepared breakfast for the house in the dining room. I would love for you to join us!” Leah, Erik’s middle aged housekeeper, spoke over the intercom to make you aware. Maybe you and her could spend some time alone today.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll be there!” You finish up with your best friend, shower and cross the pool to the house. The house smells absolutely amazing— a spread was made of scrambled eggs with cheese, turkey sausage, and homemade biscuits. “Leah, this is awesome! Thank you so much!!”

Leah was definitely one of those Black women who could throw down in the kitchen and cherished when people enjoyed her food. She leaned back on the island and sipped her coffee with pride. It was only you and Leah downstairs, but you did happen to peep some luggage by the front door. Who’s leaving? Black Barbie? Or Black Ken?

Holding no qualms about your outer appearance, you dug in. You were starving, and Leah put a hurting on them biscuits. Light steps are heard coming from the upper floor and Monica appeared looking completely ethereal. “Good morning everyone!!”

It was still a bit early for her to be elongating her vowels but you greeted her accordingly. Leah didn’t speak, just peeping over her coffee mug. “I unfortunately have a day trip to Cali—Christopher John Rogers’ publicist has been incessant about me modeling their new spring collection. I’ll be back tomorrow evening though! You ladies have a splendid time!!” Monica split a biscuit in half, gave you an unexpected bear hug, and traipsed out the door.

“Thank God. I’ll at least have one person to talk to with more than half a brain cell.” Leah washed out her mug, and you snickered when she said that. It was petty. But, oh well. Leah winked at you, when Erik decided to show up.

“Ladies. Good morning.” He typed away at his phone while he made himself some coffee. Leah responded. But not you. What could you say to him now that you seen what that dick was hitting for? It’s evident he caught you looking last night and he wanted you to look….right? Not stopping to sit down at the table with you, he picked up a biscuit and headed back upstairs. From the bannister on the upper floor, Erik could look into the kitchen from above. You lost the fight not to gaze at him. Looking up, he was already staring at you before going into his office and shutting the door. Why is this man so intense…

Leah began clearing the table since you were done eating and cut her eyes at you. Something was up between you two, but she didn’t push. Erik told her everything about your situation and how you both came to meet. Leah was trustworthy and lived a lot of life before working full time with Erik. She empathized with you wholly, seeing that you were lost in the world. She was proud of Erik for doing the right thing—the boy was certain he was damned to hell. This was proof he wasn’t.

“I’ll wash if you dry.” You offered. Leah accepted happily, nice to have someone who didn’t act like she was a personal maid. You noticed that Leah didn’t say much. She was always watching though.

“Leah, what do you have planned for today?” Putting your hand on your hip, you turn to her with a smirk on your lips.

“Well, I do need to coordinate with the pool boy, wash a couple loads, vacuum the guest rooms, start on lunch—“

“Ehhhh, that can wait. Let’s go shopping. I gotta get off this property or I’m gonna go postal. Erik’s a big boy, he’ll be all right for a few hours. I’ll go tell Caleb to start the car.” You leave to let the driver know, not even allowing her to respond. Fun was majorly needed.

Meeting Leah at the front door, you pile in the expedition to head to the nearest mall. Scratching your veve tattoo on your side, your thumb scrolls through the mall directory when you get an iMessage from an unknown number.

“Going somewhere?”

Who else would it be but him? It was purposeful to leave without telling him. Erik had you twisted all the way up inside…….it wasn’t totally smart but this gave you some semblance of control back into the dynamic. Being a helpless damsel in distress wasn’t a good look on you and you didn’t want it to start now….even if you really did need all the support you could get. You weren’t gonna pass this moment of brief freedom up. “Yes I need things. And I need some fresh air.”

“This ain’t no damn vacation. Get what you need, and have Caleb return you ladies back to the property.”

Oh? He is feeling very jazzy this afternoon. You leave him on read, and hop out with Leah. She’s very patient and a very good listener. She can sense the wheels turning in your head, sorting what to do and what’s already been done.

The two of you scoured through Old Navy, Five Below, Rainbow, Bath and Body Works, Aldo, and left a whirlwind in Macy’s. Caleb fought his frustration watching you traipse from store to store. Retail therapy was a balm to your open wounds. The cares of your world fell away trying on different jeans and comfortable jumpsuits while you reconciled everything. A blessing also came in the form of companionship with Leah.

Widowed at 45, the Nashville native was blessed to have two pensions and an empty nest. She let you in on how her and Erik met and how he was like a son to her now more than anything. The two of you conversed over piping hot Japanese teriyaki in the food court surrounded by department store bags. “He reminded me of my son Travis. His father died when he was so young, and it was an uphill battle to wrangle him back from the dark side. Erik has his demons and yet he still has a code. I could never deny that boy.”

You listened intently and soaked it in. Demons huh? You figured he had access and resources being an alleged government contractor but it appears his baggage is a bit more nuanced. What had Erik seen and done? Why go out of his way to help a stranger? You had more questions than answers but were still somehow pleased with the new info.

Caleb had been staring a hole in your head for the last half hour. You put him out of his misery and he comes to gather your bags. Leah squeezed your arm and y’all headed to the car. The mean grinch awaits you both and had lashings for you for sure.

~

“Split up. Go. Ven allá!” Eddie directed his goons to search the town square in the sleepy little town of Randolph, Vermont. Two guys took the north end, while three guys took the south end. They questioned jewelers, shoe repairmen, butchers, ski shop owners, hotel clerks, etc. Nothing revealed any inkling of you. Eddie himself called every single roach motel in the surrounding area and nobody by the name of Y/N Nazario. He even asked if you went by your maiden name, and still nothing. “Something’s not right.”

Him and his goons reconvened at a late night diner. They couldn’t look more out of place—Cuban and Haitian American men with no sense of humor being served by lily white folks whose most lively occurrence were a cat getting stuck in a tree. “Boss, could she have been tipped off?”

Eddie ran through the scenario again and again in his mind. There should have been no time that you would have known he was coming. “Are you guys sure that she didn’t see Arturo at the train station? If she saw his fuckin face, she would have been spooked.”

Eddie’s lieutenant, Carmen insisted personally that he didn’t. Arturo wouldn’t be able to eat without a feeding tube for a while to make sure of that. “Let’s go. We need to pay a visit.”

~

Back at the ranch, you and Leah have situated all of your new purchases in the closet and bathroom in the guest house. No more living out of a purse. To end the night, you guys head back to the main house while Leah popped the cork on a Merlot that was to die for while some smooth jazz played on Erik’s surround sound.

He comes from his garage after playing around with a transmission for an old school Chevelle he’s been restoring, to see you two cozied up. At least you found someone to confide in. “Thelma and Louise have returned I see.” You both cackle and pour him a glass.

“Better watch your wallet!” You bust out laughing, clearly tipsy.

“Wel I’m glad you had fun but can you please let me know that you’ve left the house before you just duck off like that? We’re trying to keep you safe remember? I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.” Erik gives the warning tenderly but with some steel as well. Leah says nothing and sips more of her wine, secretly amused at his overprotective nature. She knows he means well.

You drain your glass and go to pour another one. “Yes Dad. I’ll always check in before curfew.” Red wine always does this to you.

“Well kids, I’m going to lay down for the night. I’ll see you both bright and early for breakfast.” Leah rinsed her glass out and placed it in the sink and kissed Erik on his cheek. “Good night, son.”

“Good night, Leah.” His dimples make another appearance and your stomach does a hurdle. She squeezes your shoulder and heads upstairs. You take your glass and the whole bottle to the couch, and you feel his eyes on your back the whole time. How was this going to work?

The wine fills your mouth adding to your buzz and your eyes close as you bob your head to the jazz. You feel the couch dip as Erik sits right next to you. “I see someone ran it up today.”

“I deserve it, don’t I? With all things considered..”

His eyebrow raised and he inhaled more of the Merlot. “No complaints from me, Y/N. Just pointing out the obvious. I see you and Leah have gotten close. She’s an outstanding woman.”

“Yes she really is. So sweet and so wise. I enjoy her company. Reminds me of my mom..” Damn. How long has it been since you’ve spoken with her?

“Have you used the burner phone yet? I hope you have, I told you it can’t be traced.”

“Yes, I reached out to my best friend. She’s sworn to secrecy. Not my parents though. One word from me and Eddie would absolutely know something right away, they can’t hold water.”

Erik drained his Merlot and poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. “Well at least you know who to trust with certain information. Can I ask you a question?”

Your heart fell in your butt when he said that. Oh God. You weren’t ready to reveal that you been daydreaming about his bare body all day. “Shoot.”

“Your tattoo. It’s a Haitian veve with a Kongo cosmogram around it. Does it mean something?” Erik was fishing for info for sure. How could someone so sweet and tender as you get caught up in such an evil force as Mr. Nazario?

“We’re gonna need more wine, if we’re going to get into that.” Erik immediately got up and got another bottle of Merlot and a corkscrew and poured generously for the both of you.

Words start pouring out of you. The whirlwind of you and Eddie’s romance and how intense and handsome he was had you under a spell. It didn’t take much for him to convince you to become his queen of his empire. Erik listened intently and engaged with you. It’s no wonder why Monica is head over heels. He’s fine as fuck, incredibly sharp and got bank. But he’s holding something back.

Him and Eddie weren’t that different in that regard you found. Erik revealed very little about himself yet was able to extract information from you with ease. Too easily, for that matter. Eventually, you were all talked out, and fell asleep on the couch. Erik was comfortable himself and didn’t want to move. He pulled the throw blanket over the both of you, whispered “sweet dreams” in your ear, and dozed off himself.

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[jester-lover]

Desi s/o making desi food for the Dorm Leaders

Requested by enbytomura (on AO3) Warnings- fem implied reader (but not really lol), food, fluff, brief mentions of dieting, bad dialogue courtesy of Jester

A short cute lil thing :) I hope this encourages y’all to try some indian food bc these are some very basic picks

Riddle

What you make him: Gulab Jamun

Rosewater?! In food?! He’s drooling already

The fluffy center, perfectly toasted outside, completely wrapped in a glaze of rose infused sugar syrup, Riddle is in heaven

He’s holding the spoon with his full, closed fist, elbows on the table, face covered in sugar syrup

His mom would be so upsetti spaghetti, but who cares lol

He’ll notice how messily he’s eating and just take a lil pause, and blushes super hard

Gives you a hug after eating, he’s very grateful

“Thank you so so much.”

Leona

What you make him: Lamb Biryani

He literally smells it from the kitchen and goes zoom

Man runs with purpose

Barrels in and asks for a plate (real respectful)

Tries so desperately not to show how deeply he just fell in love

Adores lamb above all, tender and practically falling off the bone, with the rice practically 

soaking up spices, he won’t even get upset about the vegetables

Expect him to act like it was mediocre, but with the ferocity of his eating, you know better

“The lamb was good, don’t expect me to tell you again.”

Azul

I’m gonna jump off what the requester said abt pakoras

Our boy Azul loves loves loves pakoras

Especially paneer and potato-onion pakoras

With the paneer, he loves how soft and fluffy the soft cheese is, along with the crispy, spiced coating, his favorite sauce for those is the minty cilantro chutney, he’s so happy

With potato-onion, the far crispier of the two, with unraveling layers of red onion and thinly sliced potato wrapped up in the same spiced coating, he’ll eat that one with a tangy tamarind chutney

Literally feed this man please

“It’s my cheat day today, perhaps you could teach me to make what you fed me last week?”

Kalim

What you make him: Gol Gappa

Pani Puri, Gol Gappa, call it what you want, its good and I’m eating it

He probably grew up eating the best of the best, that probably included desi food

Rich people desi food, yknow

This makes him super excited to eat street food

Loves the fun aspect of eating Gol Guppa, definitely swallows in all in one go, reckless abandon for the win

Jamil is so happy for the two hours off he’s getting

Loves the sour and spicy cold water, along with the crunchy hallow flour puffs, definitely loads them up with potatoes

“Wonder if he could add a little more spice…”

Vil

What you make for him: Dal Makhani

Vil probably goes on a vegetarian diet at some point, because of his fondness of salad and smoothies, this didn’t bother him much, but the repetition gets him bored

So of course, you help out your man!

When he finally sits down to eat, his senses are flooded with joy

Loves it so much

The creamy, thick soup, speckled with lentils and beans, green basil and a swirl of white butter, along with a side of roti, or naan to eat it with, he’ll never forget it

One that def loves having desi food regularly, esp during diets he’ll lean back on spices to make his food taste better

He will definitely make you some german food as a thank you, like spaetzle or apple strudel

“Liebling, your cooking is spectacular.”

Idia

What you make for him: Chai with biscuits 

He’s one of those people who forgets to eat during his game sessions

You get a little worried about your guy :( 

Ortho assists you in procuring biscuits as you make chai

Idia is a little startled when you show up with a thermos and a cute little plate full of biscuits

He's so appreciative!!!

Walks with a little pep in his step for a while after (around his room ofc)

Tries to make it for you, with decent results (man is good at following written instruction)

“This is so good, do you want one of the biscuits?”

Malleus

What you make him: Kulfi

We know how much our boy loves ice cream

You know how much your boy loves ice cream

So you make him the objectively best kind of ice cream

Its trial and error at first, and malleus gets a little curious about the mystery project your working on

When you finally present it to him, he's absolutely elated!

His child of man! Made him something with love!

Absolutely adores it so much, literally devours it 

The creamy ice cream on the stick, milky and sweet with a perfect texture, he’s falls in love even harder

Favorite flavor is malai, simplicity and richness is his favorite

“I absolutely adore you.”

[felinecryptid]

A Phone Call Away

this is just goldenpunk fluff idk what else to tell you, there's no plot to this

“Hi,” Pav whispered, as soon as the call connected.

“‘ello,” Hobie hummed. “Wha’ are ya’ upto?”

“Nothing, I’m just out getting some groceries. Auntie sent me out and told me not to come back, until I find the brand of tea she likes,”  Pav smiled and Hobie could feel the sun shining on his face. Then he frowned. “Are you still in bed?” 

Hobie laughed. ”I was readin’ a book,” He said, holding up 1984.

“Gadhe. Tell me you've eaten something, at least,” Pav shook his head, putting a bag of potatoes in his cart.

“Ate some leftover chips, luv’, don’t worry about it.”

“I am going to worry, it’s like 2 in the afternoon at yours, and you’re still in bed. I’m not even there to cook you something.” Pav whined. Hobie felt something warm curl up in his chest.

“Awwh, babe, you love me?”

“Of course, janemann, I love you so much.”  Pav held up a pack of tiny biscuits Hobie recognised to be ‘little hearts’. “I would literally kill to kiss you right now.”

“I’d die to kiss ya’.”

“Yeah.” Pavi stared at something off camera, doing some calculations with his unoccupied hand. “Hey, do you think I should get the family pack for 150 rupees or buy two 4-packs of maggi at 160?” He turned to the camera, showing a yellow pack of noodles to Hobie.

“I don't even know the difference,” said Hobie, finally getting up from his bed, looking for the copper water bottle Pav had bought for him.

Pav hummed, “I’m getting the two 4 packs,” He dumped the said items into his cart. “Should I get schezwan chutney for you?”

“The red spicy one? Oh fuck yea’ ov' course,” He said, watching the shirt ride up Pav’s shirt as he reached for the sauce on the top shelf. “It too high for you, shona?” Hobie asked, seeing the predictable blush rise up Pav's face at the hindi pet name. He loved it when Hobie tried and butchered hindi.

“Jaanu, you know I'm in public. I can't respond like I want to, that's so unfair.”

“I know, mere subah ki kiran,” He said, voice raspy, words feeling unusually rounded yet familiar.

“Hobie!”

Hobie laughed. He could see the deep, almost-maroon blush high on Pav’s cheeks. 

“Have you been learning from Gayatri again?” Pav asked, voice accusatory, and a sparkle in his eyes.

“I'm not gunna conform o' deny tha',” Hobie finally found the bottle under the bed, and drained it.

“I love you so much, you ass.”

“I love ya too. Wha' time is it at yours now?”

“Around eight pm, why do you ask?”

“I thought we’d eat together, you could have dinner early and I'd’ve a late brekkie.”

“It’s a late lunch at this point,” Pav scolded. “But yes, I'd like that. What are we eating?

“Mac n' cheese?”

“You know that auntie would kill me if i told her that's my dinner.”

“Jus' tell her it's a snack.”

“You are the snack,” Pavi giggled, highly weird behaviour when in public, but Hobie liked the thought of them being disgustingly cute for everyone to see. Everyone to see their love. Everyone to see how important Pav is to him.

Another part begged him to hide Pav away bc what if his enemies hurt Pav to get at him?

Hobie shook his head, because what enemies did he have? He was a tattoo artist and Pav was a physics academic. It's not like they were fighting supervillains everyday.

Pav thought the head shaking was for his comment because he doubled down. “No you definitely are.” 

“Does tha' mean you wanna eat me instead ov' the mac n’ cheese?”

“No- I mean- Yes, but what the fuck Hobie, I’m literally at the supermarket, and yes I have earphones in, but-” Someone knocks into Pav.

Hobie recognised the glint of her earrings a moment before he heard her voice. “Oh my god, Pav! You didn't tell me you were back in India?”

“Gayatri! I'm sorry, I came back like 3 days ago, and I've been too busy with packing Maya auntie’s things, I literally forget to sleep,” Pav laughed.

“Sounds like an excuse, Pavitr Prabhakar, you little bitch. If you had let me know, I'd have helped you.”

“That's exactly why I didn't tell you, aren't you working on that new movie? With Ranveer Singh in it?”

“So what, I could make time? And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help Maya auntie and you to pack her things- Where's she going by the way?”

“Oh, uh- she's moving to the UK, in with us.”

“Oh, she's leaving?”

“Yeah, Hobie and I thought it'd be better if she lived with us and UK has better resources aur sach bolun to unko mujhe apne paas hi rakhna hai.”

“Yeah that's good, I'm going to miss her, I'll miss you both,” Gayatri's voice seemed sad. “But now I've got an excuse to barge into your house.”

“Wasn't I reason enough?”

“You? yes. Hobie? yes. Dono saath mein? Nope, thank you I'm pretty sure I’d have to bleach my eyes.”

“Thats-”

“Shut it. Speaking of hobie, show me the ring?”

Hobie watched as Pav swapped hands, bringing up his left ring finger into view, a familiar ring shining under the harsh grocery store lights.

Gayatri muffled a squeal. Pav’s grin was so wide that Hobie thought it was bleeding off him to Gayatri and him because Hobie found himself smiling into the cabinets as he took out a box of pasta.

“Ohh! kitna pyaara hai! is that real moonstone?”

“Yeah, it's covered with a thin layer of artificial diamond, it's custom made.”

“I'm so jealous. if my next partner doesn't put in at least this amount of effort, i'm breaking up,” Gayatri shoved Pav gently.

“Hobie would love to hear that. Hey, Hobie, did you hear that?” Pav turned to Hobie gleefully, Gayatri butting into the frame with a delighted look.

“Hi Angrez, wasn't stealing Pav’s heart enough? You had to take Maya auntie too?”

“Oh you can’t hear him, take my other earbud.”

Gayatri takes it, sticking out a tongue at both of them.

“Hello guruji,  you are the one 'elpin' me charm them,” Hobie saluted her with the spoon he was using to scoop out salt.

“Oh my god you are so impossible, what's the status on the Kohinoor?”

“Still on the king's head, regrettably.”

“You promised to get it back if I let you have Pav-”

“Hey, am I a tradable commodity now?”

“-at this rate you have to return the entire British museum, including interest.”

“I'd gladly do tha' on its own.”

“I’m going to accompany Pav to yours to make sure you do just that. Okay, guys, you can get back to your mushiness. I need to get going.” Gayatri waved at him and handed Pav his earbud, disappearing out of frame.

Pav looked at him with a giddy smile “I saw you put pasta in water, what do you want to bet I can check this out and get a take out box in ten minutes?”

“Not one euro or a rupee, I know ya can, including Maya auntie’s favourite tea.”

“I already found it,” Pav held up a box and Hobie couldn't resist blowing a kiss.

“You're on then,” He said, holding up a bag of shredded mozzarella. “Let’s see who gets mac n’ cheese done first.”

___

Translation:

gadhe - you ass (but this is the animal ass)

janemann - love of my life (not exactly but close enough)

maggi - verrrryyy popular desi masala ramen noodles

copper infusion water is considered healthy hence the copper bottle

schezwan chutney - a chilli garlic paste its delicious idk the recipe

shona - gold/love

jaanu - my life

mere subah ki kiran - my morning sunshine

Ranveer Singh - famous actor

aur sach bolun to unko mujhe apne paas he rakhna hai - and to be honest, i want her to stay close to me

dono saath me - both of you together

kitna pyaara hai - its so cute

angrez - foreigner (of the english kind)

guruji - extremely respectful word for teacher (when i say extremely respectful i mean it)

kohinoor - famous diamond stolen from india during British Raj

A/N:

this took me forever to edit

i tried a different process of writing which was quicker to finish but took so long to edit iwndiedksndid but ill do this again bc i like this way much better

this fic was inspired by my parents shout out to them for doing long distance straight after marriage with a 1 year old (me) i could never

comment if ya want more bc they keep me alive

[helloporcelain]

Apertado

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Pairing: Gale/Astarion

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Tags: porn without plot, blowjob, frottage, docking, dom!astarion, sub!gale, fluff, established relationship

Summary:

“Where,” Astarion gasps like he’s dying, “did you learn to do this?”

“Wizard academy,” Gale answers, like it’s terribly obvious.

Read on AO3 if you prefer!

Being with Gale is — different.

It’s relatively new and bone-tender and sometimes, still, Astarion isn’t always sure what to expect. Sometimes, it’s warm and relaxed, like the gentle simmer of a teapot, and sometimes, it burns and boils and rushes through Astarion like the best kind of fever.

For once, though, he doesn’t mind rolling with the punches of it all, with the whims of his entirely-too-sincere lover.

They’re all at the Elfsong Tavern for a night of respite, laughing over dried herring and incredibly salty cheese-potato soup and goblets of spiced ale and elderflower wine. Astarion is pleasantly buzzed, content, listening intently as Wyll recalls a dramatic story from his monster-hunting days. Gale’s breath is sour-sweet and smells overwhelmingly like cranberries as he tilts his head at him with a curious, stupid smile.

“What?” Astarion asks him, returning a curious, stupid smile of his own.

“Ah – nothing,” Gale stifles a hiccup, ducking his head down to stuff another fig-jam biscuit into his mouth.

“Don’t nothing me, you lightweight.” He nudges Gale's shoulder and affectionately tilts his chin upward, using his thumb to brush away the last crumbs of the biscuit from Gale's upper lip. “You’re drunk.”

“I would not say that the term drunk is accurate in this case.” Gale sways closer against him, cheeks terribly flushed, eyebrows knit in contemplation as he considers the state he’s in. “Perhaps… perhaps I’m just a tad bit inebriated, is all.”

“Sure,” Astarion drawls, brushing a few grey strands of hair out of Gale’s face. “And I’m only a tad bit undead, is all.”

“If you really must know, Astarion, I was staring at you because you are beautiful.”

He bites back a cheeky grin, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth. “Oh? But that’s not anything new, darling,” he teases.

“No, it isn’t,” Gale admits, softly, far too genuinely. “Hand me parchment and a quill, and I'd pen a dozen sonnets effortlessly about you. But tonight – you’re particularly lovely. It's this smile you wear, when you’re at ease, when you feel safe, where your eyes are as soft as a feather and they get so unbelievably round, like a kitten.”

“A kitten?”

“A kitten with very sharp claws. But yes, a kitten.”

Astarion feels his cheeks growing pink and pinker, the color rushing up past his hairline, towards the tip of his pointy ears, as he leans in, murmuring against his cheek. “You love-sick fool.”

“Guilty as charged,” Gale whispers back, pressing a tender kiss on his nose.

“Get a room, you two!” Karlach whoops as she throws a strawberry towards their direction, landing on an empty plate in between their half-full chalices and piled up dirty napkins. Some of the others snicker, he hears an aww or two, and then someone makes a dirty joke and the entire table breaks out in raucous laughter.

“Completely ahead of you, my dear,” Astarion grins, tugging at Gale’s collar, rising up from the table.

—

They don’t take their time tonight; there’s no full-body massages or pillow-talk or even any kind of build up – Gale kisses him greedily, furiously, holding onto him for dear life as they stumble back into their room, legs kicking the door behind them shut with little disregard for its weak, creaky hinges. Astarion unwraps the belt around Gale’s waist and tosses it to the ground as Gale licks at his mouth like an untrained dog, wet and sloppy and unequivocally desperate.

Then he tugs his robe off, carelessly hurling it to the ground, crumpling into a magenta pile of heavy fabric at their feet. Gale attempts to tug Astarion’s tunic off but he can barely do that without nipping too hard at his lips or tripping over his backwards feet. Astarion pulls away from the kiss with an amused sniff and pushes Gale back onto the massive bed, deftly taking off his own shirt. He presses a knee against the mattress then tugs at Gale’s breeches and slides them off, palming a hand over the erection sitting underneath his briefs. Before he gets a chance to lean in or do anything else, Gale sits back up, hand reaching out to wrap around his thin wrist.

“Please,” he begs, slurring slightly. “Want to taste you.”

“My. What’s gotten into you tonight? Such a needy pup.”

He steps back from the bed and watches as Gale pushes himself off from the mattress, lowering himself to the ground and resting on his knees, hands sliding up to grab at the waistband of his black trousers, easing them off as they fall to his feet. He kicks them away and Gale doesn’t waste a second before he presses an open mouthed kiss against the damp, cotton fabric of his underwear. His tongue rolls out, wide and flat as he licks the outline of Astarion’s hard cock. “Don’t be a tease, darling.”

“‘m sorry,” Gale replies, voice muffled against his crotch. He tugs Astarion’s underwear down and his long, pretty cock springs out, standing at attention for his lover. Gale grips a saliva-slick hand around the base, sucks a kiss to the underside, then licks a long stripe along the veins that adorn his cock.

“Such a good boy,” Astarion breathes in adoration. “How did we manage to find each other among the shitshow we’re been cast in, hmm?”

Gale works his tongue all around his cock, slurping and hollowing his cheeks and expertly working his length far down into his throat like it’s an absolute walk in the park for him. He moans with pleasure around the mouthful of cock as Astarion holds his head down with some force and roughly fucks his face, settling into a rhythm for a few minutes that leaves Astarion breathing ragged and seeing a dozen stars under his eyelids.

“Mmm – can’t, Gale, I’ll –”

Gods, the wizard is just, senselessly good at sucking cock. Astarion thinks vaguely that he should send a nicely worded letter and a bouquet of roses to the man who taught him how to do it – it’s embarrassing, but Astarion needs him off or else the night will end far quicker than he intends. He threads a hand through Gale’s hair, pulling at the tail in the back, dragging him off his cock with a tattered gasp. “You know I adore how eager you are, but I have other things in mind for us.”

He guides Gale up from the ground and cups his face and kisses him on the lips, touching their foreheads together. “Lay down on your back, Gale.”

Astarion thinks he almost sees a tail wagging between his legs when Gale does exactly what he’s told, immediately, with a deliciously blank expression. He climbs up on the bed, straddling Gale’s thighs, bringing their cocks together. He licks his hand and slicks it over Gale’s stone-hard cock, saliva mingling with the precum bubbling on the tip. “Is it a sick thing,” Gale smiles then, all love-struck, “that all I can manage to think of is how lucky I am? Of how much I adore you?”

“My darling little wizard. I’m the lucky one,” he says, flicking a thumb over the wet slit, causing Gale’s thighs to tremble and hips to buck. With his free hand he slides a hand up his round belly, squeezing the bit of fat there with a hungry glaze to his eyes. “You’re so pretty when you come undone because of me.”

Then he takes hold of both lengths in one hand, stroking long and slow, watching as Gale huffs and pants underneath him. He does this gently but firmly, ensuring that the tip of their cocks rub together at the end of each push. Their cocks are pulling apart after a minute or so, long strands of precum connecting and almost breaking when Astarion realizes Gale is staring at him again, the same inquisitive dopey-eyed expression plastered on his face that he had earlier during dinner.

“What is it?” Astarion asks him again, not slowing down the twist of his wrist, though there’s a hint of concern to his voice.

“I just, ah –” Gale averts his blushing gaze, then to the left side, to the right side, then flitting his half-lidded eyes back up at Astarion. “I want to try something with you, if you’ll let me. Something a little unconventional.”

“I knew you had something on your mind. What do you want to try, puppy?”

“I… can’t explain it, I’m afraid it won’t sound very arousing if I tell you the technicalities of it,” Gale tells him.

“Okay, well, you’re not exactly selling it – whatever it is – to me by saying that.”

“Do you trust me, Astarion?”

“Are you an idiot, Gale?” Astarion’s voice is zero bite and all tenderness. “Of course I do.”

“Alright. Good. Then – can you kindly get off me for just one second?” Astarion takes his hand away from their touching cocks and does as Gale says, watching him curiously as he starts to rearrange the pillows around him, piling some behind, some under his knees for a lift. “Okay, sit on me again, please.”

Astarion gets back to sitting on his thighs, straddling his legs, just a little above his knees. He can see Gale thinking – debating, anxious – on his next move and he takes Gale’s face with his hands and kisses him comfortingly. “Don’t be nervous, pet. I trust you.”

Gale nods wordlessly, looking up at him with glassy, twinkling eyes, then presses the dewy tip of his cock back against Astarion’s in a ticklish kiss, rubbing slit against slit in a dizzying swirl around his pink, leaking glans.

“So wet,” Gale mumbles. “Not sure if it can work if it’s this wet.”

Then, carefully, he slides his hand and stretches the foreskin of his length forward over the top of Astarion’s cock.

It pushes over with no resistance, sliding around the head, encircling Astarion’s length whole, wrapping him like some kind of impossible blanket. He presses a thumb over his foreskin and holds it firmly in place. “Fuck,” Astarion hisses. He closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation, feeling the tender pressure of the other man’s fingertips just on the other side of the soft skin, feeling the forehead skin stroking all around him. Gale bites his lip and fails to suppress a shudder, which makes Astarion hiss again: “Fuck.”

Gale’s normally caramel-brown eyes are all giant dilated saucers when he looks up at him with a touch of worry. “Is it,“ he hesitates, hands lingering over their swaddled cocks, “okay?”

“It’s – Gale– “

Intense, Astarion wants to say, but it’s suddenly, absolutely, way too difficult to speak coherently.

“Do you wish for me to stop? Does it hurt?”

“No, no, don’t,” he manages to choke out.

Gale keeps his touch gentle as he curls his hand around both of their cocks, conjoined like a finger trap toy, twisting and squeezing as Astarion tries his damndest to stay completely still, to let Gale take the lead on this fascinating new kink he’s completely unleashed on him. But then he looks down again and involuntarily jerks when he sees his outline against the thin, delicate skin; the hard, bulbous head stretched under the long, delicious veins of Gale’s cock.

He doesn’t think he’s seen anything like it: the sight of their two cocks melting into each other, peach and olive mixing into one. And when Gale starts to milk the foreskin around his fingers and squeeze the globs of precum out from under, slicking it all over their cocks, Astarion nearly comes.

Nearly. He’s not some amateur.

It’s just — it’s just so –

Absurd.

Ridiculous.

Absurdly, ridiculously, fucking erotic.

“Where,” Astarion gasps like he’s dying, “did you learn to do this?”

“Wizard academy,” Gale answers, like it’s terribly obvious. “How does it feel?”

He goes back to the insane rubbing, swirling motion, rotating his own cock around Astarion’s, rolling around and overlapping around him, over and over and over, with a tight grip on the very top of the skin to keep them locked together. It feels like an impossible feedback loop; Gale around him and him in Gale, slick against slick, fucking and rutting and rubbing in and against and everywhere, the heat coiling down into the core of his balls. It feels —

“So good,” he says ineloquently, humping into the burrow of Gale’s foreskin. “So fucking good.”

He can barely acknowledge the brilliant, goofy-dumb smile on Gale’s blissed out face. “It’s, you, Astarion, you’re perfect — ah, you’re divine —“

Astarion’s never felt anything like this before – not ever, not fucking once – and he can’t keep from moaning, quickly forming drool leaking out from his slack-jawed mouth as Gale grabs the base of his length and starts — holy shit — jerking him off into his own cock. He speeds up the pace of his stroking at the lewd sounds of Astarion’s encouragement, belly rising and falling, huffing as he goes cross-eyed and beet-red with arousal.

“It’s like I’m wearing your cock, Gale,” Astarion groans, in awe, in wonder, in bewilderment. It’s absolutely beyond him – it’s out of his hands, quite literally – at this point to stop himself from snapping his hips and pushing deeper around Gale’s stretched out foreskin.

“You – you dirty pup,” Astarion taunts, hoarse, somewhat gobsmacked. “Were you thinking about this all night?”

“Yes, yes, I was,” Gale answers with a whine, “Yes. Fuck me, please, fuck my cock, Astarion– ah, hnn–”

“Gale,” he grunts pathetically in response, fucking wild, erratic thrusts against the tunnel of stretched out skin enveloping him. It feels so tight and so hot and so perfectly made for him all at once, he could live like this, wear Gale like a cozy jacket, never take him off — if it were at all physically possible, he’d walk around like this with his cock warmed all day from Gale’s snug cockskin —

“Astarion, Astarion,” Gale babbles, breaking his lust-drunk train of thoughts, nearly incoherent except for the repeating litany of his name tumbling out desperately.

“My love,” he coos, pinching at the uppermost skin to try and help Gale to desperately get it to stay in place as he thrusts far too quickly and clumsily and roughly all around and against the mage’s cock. “My tight little cocksleeve.”

Gale keens and bucks his hips, then, too, and Astarion digs some fingers around Gale’s hairy, plush thighs and he nearly draws blood as they both come. He can feel it so intensely: the pulsating, the pounding of the blood rushing, the heat of the thick cum pooling around their cocks. It happens so fast he could sob - Gale's foreskin retracts so quickly and pushes him out, and then they’re just ultra-sensitive tip to tip, bobbing away from each other with cum-strands as the last evidence of their connection.

Gale pulls him in for a kiss and he loses himself in it for a while, rutting against the fleshiness of Gale’s body, still half hard and aching raw, until he hears Gale whine from overstimulation. He pulls away with a breathless chuckle, dizzy, trying to make sure he doesn’t touch his lover’s cock.

“Such a mess,” Astarion says, reaching down between them to scoop through the shared cum sliding down Gale’s groin. “Let’s clean up. Open.” He pushes two fingers into Gale’s cherry-bruised lips, eyes curved happily like little moons as Gale licks and sucks around them. “Good puppy.”

When it feels like his hand is cleaned thoroughly, he goes and takes another scoop, then another, and another, until Gale has completely taken in every last drop of cum down his throat.

A few minutes later, Astarion’s legs are draped across Gale’s paunchy stomach, eyes closed, somewhat still sticky and quietly recovering from their newest bedroom adventure.

“Well,” Astarion finally says after he thinks he’s gained back enough of his brain cells. “It is not often that I am surprised sexually, but that was, truly, mind blowing, my dear.”

“Mmm. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that, admittedly, so, I am quite relieved that it turned out alright. Better than all right, rather. I would be too intimidated and not courageous enough to suggest this – ehm – particular activity if I hadn’t had a little liquid courage to bolster me…”

Astarion laughs — no, giggles, like he’s some smooth-cheeked school boy — and kisses Gale’s forehead, then trails more kisses down his cheek, across his jaw, landing at the crook of his neck, taking in the smell of sweat and cum and remnants of the honey-lavender soap he bought from a pushy street vendor a few nights ago.

Being with Gale is different. This, Astarion is sure of.

Which is to say: it’s most certainly, undeniably, irrevocably, a complete joy.

“Alright then; go on, tell me. What the fuck else did you learn at that school?”

[immoralimmortals]

we hop-skip-jump back with more akatsuki questions! we hope your days have been grand and your songs sweet, tak(?)

if the akatsuki were exposed to the cuisines of our modern, international world, what would each of them gravitate to? would hidan be lured by the cooking of the southern american states, creole, the sausages and cuts and grinds of europe, the whole beasts of the pacific? would itachi look at italian cuisine and feel a deep pang of nostalgia of how sasuke would like this fare? what would these tongues make of our world's bounty?

Hello again! Yes, I'm Tak uvu Some more cusine headcanons for you, dear!:

Honestly I think you nailed Hidan right off the bat. I think he's a connoisseur of meat in specific, if given the time and lack of killing people (so only a world with no Jashin. Probably). I can imagine him, Deidara, and sometimes Kisame having a hot sauce drinking contest. Kakuzu would show up and blow them out of the water once and never participate again. I think Hidan would like beef jerky and pork rinds.

My dad is obsessed with the Red Lobster food chain and now I'm thinking about how Kisame would genuinely enjoy himself while everyone else is only there for cheddar bay biscuits.

My dad just bought at least 100$ worth of Red Lobster gift cards once finding out they're going out of business HE KEEPS ASKING ME OUT TO RED LOBSTER SOMEONE FUCKING HELP M

I've already said in a prior post that Deidara would be OBSESSED with pop rocks. Wouldn't be surprised if he seeks out other kinds of food that give specific sensations, hence the hot sauce bit just now. He'd love carbonated drinks, too. He can bullshit his way into convincing you that yes, Monster Energy Drink *does* require a sophisticated flavor palate! He'd try anything if it had a novelty factor, at least one he can take seriously.

Perhaps obviously I can see Itachi especially enjoying the vast variety of teas that one can acquire in the modern world. My personal favorites tend to be rooibos blends, so I'd like to give him a cup. God, he'd be a great cafe owner. Literal coffee shop AU type of man. I want him to tell me about the floral notes in this morning blend of green tea from the Himalayas. I wanna own a combination tea shop and bakery with him, that'd be the dream.

Kakuzu strikes me as a hardy, heavy food kind of guy. Stews and meats and breads. He'd probably like corned beef and cabbage and potatoes. ...Sorry my Irish in me is coming out. Gravitates to comfort food that keeps you full and warm.

Nagato and Konan are...interesting ones to consider, because whenever I think about them and food I just can't stop thinking about how formative starvation must have been for them. I think they can get overwhelmed by seasonings really fast, anything especially salty or sugary or what have you is in small portions. I don't think they'd deal well with the fact that the most available foods in some societies are saturated with flavor that's overcompensating for shitty processed food. I think if you gave Nagato a bottle of Sunny D it might actually kill him.

Sasori can't taste shit, I think, but if he did he's one of those assholes with PIN POINT PRECISION. Wine connoisseur. Chocolate connoisseur. Will intellectually wreck your shit if you tell him you're making spaghetti and serve him angel hair.

I think Obito would get really disappointed if you told him you were going to get mochi and you came back with the kind you get from the grocery store.

Zetsu still eats people, I can only presume. He might be interested in foods related to "stranger" body parts, brain cheese and haggis, that sort of thing.

Side note: several years ago when I first entered my never-ending Akatsuki phase, I read a really, really cute self insert or reader insert fic where the Akatsuki came to the "real world" and they watched Spongebob and Kisame made what the story described as an adorable face as he was shown how a soda can works. I've been looking for it and my heart yearns to reread. If you happen to find it, please let me know!