#he seems funny and sweet to me with some spicy when he needs it

[starlightiing]

CAN I ASK a really dumb stupid 'new fan' question without getting judged or causing a mental breakdown the likes of which sparks earthquakes around the world?

why are people so vehemently against danny ric?

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client! 

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.”  Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.” 

“It was just weird.” 

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?” 

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door. 

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly. 

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence. 

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.” 

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.” 

“For sex?!” 

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?” 

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?” 

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?” 

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat. 

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.” 

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest. 

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.” 

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach. 

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.” 

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.” 

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.” 

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.” 

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him. 

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.” 

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend! 

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you. 

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm. 

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?” 

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.” 

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!” 

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!” 

“Mina!” 

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!” 

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you.  He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile. 

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.” 

“You don't have to tell me twice.” 

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him. 

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns. 

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!? 

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half. 

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

[blossomingmoonlight]

⭑ Want to be more than your friend ⭑

Pairing: Coryo x bsf!fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, making out, grinding, oral (fem receiving), handjob

Summary: Your best friend catches you reading your dirty book while he's studying...

Word count: 1.2k

You were sitting on Coryo’s bed watching him closely as he sat at his desk, studying as always. Being quite the adequate student yourself you didn’t fully understand his need for studying every second, of every day. But you decided to just leave him alone, knowing that if you bothered him he would just rant about him having to become president one day and not having time to enjoy himself. So you indulged yourself back in your book, it was one of your favorites and it was quite a ‘spicy one’ so to say. Did you feel a bit guilty about reading it in the same room as your best friend? A little. But it was just getting good again and you couldn’t stop.

You turned the page and started reading, not noticing a certain someone had quietly gotten up. You smiled to yourself as you read the smutty scene in your lap before Coryo snatched it out of your hands. “Coryo! No please! Give it back!” You yelled at him, now off the bed and chasing him across the empty apartment. He tried to read the sentences but it was hard trying to run from you and read. "Why? You always tell me to have fun, so here we are.” He said, now stopping in his tracks and holding the book high above your head. Seeing as he was much taller than you this was only a little effort.

“Coryo, please just give it back, please?” You pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t read it, especially not in front of you. “Why do you not want me to read it? It’s just a book.” He laughed, clearly he didn’t understand what kind of book it was, and you thought it was for the better. But then he started running back to his room and closing the door behind him, seeing there was no lock, he held the door tightly shut. You ran after him and tried to open the door but he was much stronger than you. “Coryo please just give it back, it’s not funny!” You yelled at the closed door, praying to anything he wouldn’t read a smut scene in the book.

Obviously he got curious and started skimming the pages still with a smile on his face, but after a couple of sentences and words as ‘member’, ‘bundle of nerves’, ‘heat’ and ‘moaned’ his smile faded only to return when he realized what sort of book you were reading in front of your best friend. He opened the door and watched the terrified look on your face, still smiling. “Noooow I get why you didn’t want me to read it.” He said, closing the book and handing it to you before he walked over to his desk and leaned on it, crossing his arms. You threw the book on the ground. “I- I- didn’t- uhm, I’m sorry.” You mumbled looking down at your feet. “Why are you sorry?” Coryo said with a slight grin on his face. “I don’t know, for reading such a vulgar book in front of you? I shouldn’t have. God this is embarrassing.” You ranted while walking over to his bed and sitting down. “Don’t be, I just didn’t know you were into such books. You’re just always so...innocent.” He said, stepping a bit closer and sitting next to you on the bed.

“I guess.” You mumbled, still looking down, you couldn’t bear looking into his eyes. “Have you ever done something like they did in the book?” He asked softly. “Oh- uhm- no no not really, I don’t know what it would feel like but it’s just...fun to read, I guess?” You said a bit of an awkward smile on your face. Coryo leaned in getting close to you. “Would you like to?” He asked, his voice slightly raspy. “But- best friends don’t do that.” You said as you looked in his beautiful blue eyes, he seemed very serious about his offer. “Some do, and I would like to make you feel like how they do in the book.” He said, his voice was so sweet but low at the same time. He moved his hand on your thigh, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I would like that.” You said in almost a whisper. As if a switch flipped he pressed his lips against you hard. He grabbed your face and pulled you closer to him. You almost let out a whimper of his harshness, not expecting him to be this desperate to touch you. But you kissed him back passionately, his tongue softly going over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You let his tongue slip in your mouth and his hand went to grab you waist to pull you on his lap. As you were seated on his lap he grabbed your ass and gripped you against him tightly. Now starting to move you against his hardening groin. He groaned in your mouth at the feeling and moved you off of him and onto the bed.

“Let me make you feel good princess.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving over your thighs as you laid down. “Yes- please.” You whimpered. His hands now moved to pull of your dress while you lifted yourself so he could fully pull it off, leaving you in your bra and panties. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Coryo said as he took in your body. “Thank you.” You smiled shyly. He moved on top of you and kissed your neck, his hands now kneading your breasts. After a couple of seconds he slipped the bra straps of your shoulders, unclipping the back as well and removing your bra fully. Next he moved on to your panties, which were already soaked from his touch anyway, and threw them both next to his bed. “So wet for me huh?” He smiled, clearly pleased with the effect he had on you.

He moved his fingers to your wet slit and started to circle the bundle of nerves, you moaned his name at the feeling. It felt so good, but not enough. As if he read your mind he moved his mouth to your clit and his finger softly entered inside your tight walls, slipping in easily since you were so wet. “Mmh.” Coryo moaned at the taste of your soft cunt. He had been waiting for so long to grab his chance at tasting you, at feeling you. And finally he could. “Shit- Coryo, it feels so fucking good!” You moaned and gripped his blonde locks as he continued lapping at your pussy, his finger still moving inside you to stimulate you even more. You were getting messier each moment that passed and that sweet high came near. You sucked in a breath and moaned loudly when you finally came, gripping Coryo’s hair harder which made him groan after licking up your release.

As he came up to your face he smiled and kissed you. “How’d that feel baby.” Coryo asked. “I’ve never felt such pleasure in my life.” You smiled, still trying to catch your breath. “I wanna make you feel that good.” You whispered, kind of embarrassed for asking. “I’ll teach you, but for now I just wanted you to feel good.” He smiled, laying next to you. Maybe you should read dirty books around him more often…

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's been a while but I've been quite busy with exams, hoping to post more soon! Requests are still welcome!

[the-s1lly-corner]

creepypasta x reader who has a sweet tooth? they love candy and baked goods and makes treats? you can choose the characters

Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie x sweet tooth!reader

Not sure if I've written this before with some characters or not- so many fandoms on this blog and so many posts... hard to keep up and I dont feel like riffling through the Masterlists right now

Characters: laughing jack, hoodie, masky

Notes: reader is GN

CWs: none

LAUGHING JACK

Your personal candy dealer, he never seems to run out of candy... seems to pull it out of thin air and he never gives you a straight answer when you ask

You both have major sweet tooths so sometimes you butt heads over treats every now and then- LJ may have a seemingly unlimited stash of candy, but sometimes he craves a cookie!

You both attempt to make something together but LJ is either too impatient or he thinks it would be funny to go off the recipe

You always leave a mess in the kitchen but at least the things you make are... usually... edible

MASKY

Hes not much of a sweets person himself, when he does eat them its usually those pre packed snacks you can carry on the go.. very convenient..

He sometimes shares those with you if you need a little pick me up or generally just seem.... down

You sometimes wake up to a package or two on your nightstand

Your sweets are all yours, theres rarely anything that he will snatch ask for, so all of it is yours to indulge

HOODIE

Has a slight sweet tooth himself so sometimes you have to share with him

Like Masky, he sometimes gets his hands on treats.. likely stolen..but a treat is a treat- sometimes he shares with you

Sometimes makes something for you if you dont have the time but have a nasty craving

You both may or may not have clashing tastes for treats though, he seems like a spicy and sweet candy enjoyer

[bradshawsbitch]

"were you ever going to tell me?" ft. our sweet hangy and maybe a secret pregnancy/baby? 👀

oh, spicy! I like it👀 I hope I did it justice 🫣

warnings: mentions of piv sex, minors dni, pregnancy, wanting to be a mother, afab!reader, mentions of doctors

description: Hangman had a spicy night with his fwb before a long employment, and he left them with a little gift.

It hadn’t been meant to happen this way. You and Jake had been friends with benefits for quite some time now, and you’d had the most delicious encounter just before he was deployed for 6 months. It had been a drunken hookup, but Hangman had seemed more frenzied than previous times, more passionate, more… sweet, too.

It had almost thrown you off, until he’d hoisted your leg high on his shoulder and driven himself harder and deeper into you, making you lose all semblance of stringent thoughts.

Looking back on that night made your face heat up, not only because it was so fucking hot - but because you’d practically whimpered, begged and whined for him to cum in you. He’d been so into it, almost growling as he fucked you harder to chase his relief, wanting to empty himself in you. ‘Leave you with a little something to remember him by until next time’ he’d said. Well, fuck, the man was good. Too good. Leave you with something to remember him by, he certainly did.

It had been weeks since you’d stared at that little plus sign for the first time, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. You had always dreamt of becoming a mother, ever since you could remember. You had always been the maternal type, the one to take care of people. You sometimes wondered if that’s why Jake liked you. You took care of him even when he insisted he didn’t need it - funny thing was you thought that perhaps Jake needed it the very most. Someone who cared for him through it all, someone who saw through that cocky, self-assured persona he put on. You knew he could be a sweetheart, when he wanted to. When he was cradled in your arms after your encounters, practically purring as you played with his hair - letting him fall asleep on your chest.

Chewing on your bottom lip as you laid on your back, staring at the sterile fluorescents at the doctors office at your second check in on the baby. There had really not been a choice at all for you, that baby was yours whether Jake wanted it or not - which may be a selfish thought. Even though you saw a sweet side to Hangman, he didn’t exactly seem the type to settle down with kids anytime soon. You grumbled to yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to remember what he’d murmured that night before he’d left. It had sounded so tender, as he’d stroked your hair - but you had been so drunk, so tired, so fucked out that you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.

Contacting Jake at this point was close to impossible - you didn’t know his mail address (who used email as a form of communication to anything non work related?), you knew from previous deployments that he seldom ever checked his phone - probably something along the lines of needing to be focused on being the top 1% type good or something as his reason not to check it. So that’s why you were by yourself, checking up on your baby. You subconsciously let your hand rest on you bump to soothe yourself. You couldn’t kid yourself, you wanted nothing more than for Jake to want this kid as much as you did. You wanted him to want you both.

So that’s how it went. You made it through countless morning sicknesses by yourself, you cried to Notting Hill on your own, and tried to socialise as you normally would - never answering any prying questions. Jake was due to be home any day now, which meant that your belly was too big to hide, 6 months to be exact. You’d sent him a text, telling him that it was important you guys meet. You’d told him to meet you at your apartment at his earliest convenience. His winky smile emoji back almost made you roll your eyes. God, the poor boy had no idea.

You nerves were shot to hell, feeling nauseous at the thought of how Jake would react. How were you supposed to tell him? Should you try hiding behind the biggest damn hoodie you had? Should you sit with a blanket covering you? Or should you just answer the door belly first and watch him run to the hills? God, why hadn’t you even tried calling him? Pushing this stuff on future you wasn’t fair.

Closing your eyes, you took a shaky breath as you tried to steady yourself. You could feel your heart beat erratically in your chest, and soon after felt a flutter from your little baby - which made happy tears brim your eyes. At least you had your little sprog with you. As you were soothing the baby by brushing your hand over your swollen stomach, the door cracked shut and you heard Jake’s upbeat tone say “Honey, I’m home! You better be undressed for me,” god, your breath stuttered in your throat as he appeared in your living room.

He must’ve noticed that you looked stricken with anxiety, because he furrowed his brows, walking quickly over to you to kneel in front of you.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” He sounded so concerned, the tears that brimmed your eyes fell down your cheeks. “Hey, baby, it’s okay, Jakey’s here” he smiled at you. God, you were about to ruin his trust for you completely.

“I-I…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come - your breathing was becoming more shallow, coming in quick bursts, terrified of how he would react. Jake tried to calm you down, but you just shook your head as more tears fell. You felt as Jake took hold of your hands, wanting to hug you properly, and you kept your gaze locked on the floor as you let him help you up to a standing position - where there was no hiding how your top strained against your belly. You didn’t see Hangman’s eyes flowing wide open, but you did hear his gasp as he let go of your hands in shock.

“Princess…” he whispered, you couldn’t look at him, “is… is it mine?” He knew it was, but the question slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. Your nod and sniffle had his heart aching in his chest.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he almost let out a breathless laughter. He’d been gone six months. Radio silence. You were crying in earnest now, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Jake, I’m so sorry. I know I should’ve tried to contact you, but I was so scared. I want her so much, and I was afraid you wouldn’t want her - or me, and- and I was so frightened. And I will do this on my own if- if you don’t want to. I understand” you were holding your belly, as if to protect yourself.

“H-her?” Jake sucked in a deep breath “I need to sit down” he confessed, plopping down on your couch. He hadn’t taken into consideration that he’d be face to face with your stomach as he sat down. Face to face with his daughter. You were still standing, tears streaming down your eyes as you apologised again. Jake shook his head slowly as he looked up at you, you held your breath - you could tell that the verdict was about to fall.

His large palm slowly rose, and he looked at you expectantly as it hovered over the centre of your bump. You nodded nervously, and his warm hand splayed across your belly - the sensation overwhelming. As soon as Hangman’s hand came in contact with your body, your little baby decided to say hello to her dad - kicking right where his hand was. Jakes eyes widened again, looking up at you with the most precious look on his face.

“She likes you,” you smiled through your tears, and Jake groaned, bringing you closer to him, his face buried in your stomach as his arms embraced you tight.

“And I love her,” he replied, kissing your stomach over and over again. “And I’ve already told you this, but I love her mommy too,” he looked up at you, his beautiful green eyes brimmed with tears. And he looked enamoured, happy, elated - even. You were sobbing now, and Jake stood up.

“My sweet, sweet Princess - I’m sorry you had to do this all by yourself,” his voice held remorse, and he found that he’d wanted to be here all the way through. Had wanted to help you when things got rough. You sobbed into his shoulders, body shaking with relief.

“Y-you want her? You want us?” You blubbered in disbelief.

“My sweet girl, do you not remember what I said before I left?” Jake murmured, stroking your face and placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I said that I was planning on taking you on a proper date when I got home, because I was pretty sure I’d fallen in love with you,” he confessed with a grin. You grinned back, leaning up to kiss him again.

His hands never left your stomach, stroking your belly lovingly as you talked. “God, I’m going to be a dad,” he spoke suddenly, his voice filled with pride and love. But suddenly his brows furrowed slightly.

“Princess, as hot as you are pregnant - from now on you can’t call me daddy in bed.”

[musamora]

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖉 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. soft!fyodor, fluff. not proofread. 1.1k+ words.

author's note. because we have been blessed (or cursed depending on if you're a big sigma fan) with fyodor this week, allow me to spew some fluffy bullshit that anti-fyodor fans will rage over.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. fyodor was never the type to long for anyone, ever. in his many years of living, he had never yearned for anything beyond his simple needs and his complex goals. so, when he comes to find himself constantly thinking about one person, he is left internally baffled.

The house was quiet, unnervingly so.

Fyodor remained in the doorway momentarily, taking in a short breath of burned-out jasmine candles and perfume. It was strange to return home to such an empty house, which his lover had left on a business trip multiple days ago — but the fragrance of her presence seemed to remain strong despite its owner's absence.

There was no use remaining inside the doorway; the man shuffling inside almost expected to hear smaller footsteps responding to his. But there was nothing, only the noises he made inside a lifeless house.

He went through his routine, though it was slightly altered due to the lack of another presence. Instead of sitting in the dining room to eat, he walked into the kitchen and looked inside the fridge. He almost found himself smiling at the intricately organized interior, spotting a pre-made meal explicitly created for him. He heated it up, making himself a pot of tea, and took both to his study.

He sat at his desk, settling into his chair to review documents from his subordinates' missions. His fingers mindlessly scrolled through hundreds of lines of detail, but he found his thoughts elsewhere. The normal control he had over his mind ceased, the constant presence of laughter and a familiar silhouette resurging in his mind.

What about her made it so that she constantly persisted in his thoughts? He leaned back, humming as he contemplated the question.

Her routine.

The tendency she had to go to bed late (not unlike himself, she would often say) and awake closer to noon, and the struggle it took to wake her at any hour before then. A small part of him adored the creased line of her brow as she looked up at him with disdain, reminding him of a grumpy kitten.

The simple sandwich she would make every day with the same glass of juice, which she would take to the window seat of their living room and watch the world outside their space. She seemed to soak up the sun.

The way she would make herself a bath every Friday, filling it with a jasmine bath bomb and lighting multiple candles. She would tease him about joining her, knowing he was far too puritanical to take her up on that offer before they married. (They were already pushing it by living together pre-marriage).

The leftovers he would find in the fridge, which were properly sectioned and labeled for him to eat if he ended up returning home past dinner. Each would be wrapped, and a sticky note with a sweet message reminding him to eat would be taped against the material.

Her tastes.

She liked coffee; he liked tea. There was an occasion when he made the both of them tea. He fondly remembered how her nose scrunched up and the funny expression she forced off her face, respectfully sipping the entire cup.

She liked spicy food; he did not. It almost baffled him how she could eat the spicy foods that they came across in Japan. He was glad that she kept his spice intolerance in mind whenever she cooked, though she constantly teased him about it.

But both of them liked physical books. There was something so innocently intimate about holding a physical book, able to notate and mark any interesting line. Feeling the texture of the worn pages against skin, able to trade books with one another.

Her words.

The curious quips that she would respond with whenever they held discussions about life and its purpose. Each interjection reminded him of one of the aspects he adored about her the most, past the vein admiration of her appearance and personality — her intelligence. A sharp wit that maintained a steady pace alongside his own. Like an identical pair.

The firm reassurances she would declare moments before he’d leave, pumping herself up more than it did him. He had to admit, it was cute.

The small tunes she would hum whenever she thought she was alone, often mimicking the music that Fyodor would practice on his cello. She would deny listening to his practice sessions, but that humming always seemed to reveal otherwise.

Her expressions.

The small pout of her lips whenever she realizes that he is leaving on a mission for a prolonged period of time. She always tries to hide her disappointment, but her feelings become obvious with the slight quiver of her mouth.

The sparkle in her eyes as she looked upon him with intrigue, listening intently whenever he took the time to explain an intricate aspect of his plans or the complexity of his philosophies.

The calm smile that slowly appears on her lips whenever she sees him following a mission, eyes filled with relief and sympathy whenever she looks upon his tired form. It was an expression that would remain on her face as she made sure to take care of him.

Her laugh.

The small giggles she would make whenever she came across a humorous passage in her books, attempting to cover her laughter with her hand.

The way she would bend over, wheezing with tears coming from her eyes as he accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) brushed his fingers against the sensitive area of her skin near her hips.

The way she dismissively huffed whenever someone would annoy her, hiding it underneath an irritated chuckle as she attempted to maintain her composure. 

But there was one aspect that he felt was missing.

It was strange to forget something about someone who remained so close to his side. It murked him, his fingers thrumming as he contemplated the trait missing from the set. If he was candid with himself, he adored millions of things about her. But there was one aspect that persisted above the rest.

"Федя? I'm home!"

He froze; his gaze shifted from the patterns of the ceiling to the entrance of his study as a slight knock was made against the wall. And standing there was the lovely woman he had chosen to spend his days with, her lips curled up in a familiar smile as she leaned against the study's door frame.

"I may have gotten you a few little souvenirs," she chirped, swaying a large, heavy bag in front of him like a pendulum. "I know that you've wanted to expand your library, and I managed to find a few novels that weren't in your collection."

And it was in a quick moment of reflection and a surreal feeling of grounding he realized the trait he forgot to count. His favorite aspect out of all of her personality traits and physical attributes.

Her heart.

Always thinking of others. Considerate and thoughtful. In spite of their tainted world, there remained a kindness that was almost otherwordly inside her. It was rare to find someone who didn't always put themself first, but there she was. His rare gem, a diamond amongst coal.

And he smiled.

"Thank you, милая. Such a pleasant surprise. Come inside. Tell me the details of your trip."

It was that heart he would protect.

Федя = fedya милая = dear/darling

© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[boredzillenial]

For your blurbs

How about Basil Stitt crushing on a Dasher/ delivery girl

As sweet or spicy as you are feeling. 🙈

Yes Chef! 🫡

Theme: Basil breaks down and orders pizza. A.N: Just a lil awkwardness and a few too many interruptions lol

Empty, completely fucking empty… Basil thought as he stared at the barren interior of his fridge. He went to grab a lone beer when his stomach growled, begging for anything more substantial.

Anxiety rippled through him at the thought of leaving his darkened apartment. I’m hideous, can’t let anyone see me like this… It’d only been a few days since “the incident” and he hadn’t left his place since. He paced for a moment before a pizza menu haphazardly tossed on the ground caught his eye. He shrugged and dialed the number as he slouched back on the couch.

“Gianni’s Pizza what’ll ya have?” Your curt voice had him shoot forward. His heart hammered in his chest at your voice. All at once memories of conversations came to his mind. It’d started as chit-chat, and through months of ordering you two had developed a rapport, even a bit of flirting.

Despite the clipped tone it still hit something inside him. “Hello?” You sighed on the other end, “Look if this is those stupid kids you’re not funny. Im hanging up-“

“No wait!” Basil blurted. “I - I need to place an order, for delivery.”

“Basil?” Your tone softened, “I’m so sorry, these fucking kids -“ you sighed. “You want your usual?”

He nodded. “Hello?” Your voice rang softly in the receiver.

“Sorry! Sorry yeah I guess Pepp-”

“Pepperoni half olives and cheesy bread.” Your voice seemed to lift a bit at the familiarity of the order.

He stopped for a moment, somewhat comforted that you actually remembered. “Ah actually, no olives. Cinnamon bread instead of cheesy.” His hand rubbed across the back of his neck as he paced across the hardwood.

“No? Catherine out of town again?” You asked so nonchalantly it nearly hurt.

“Catherine is, out. Yeah - no she chea-“ Basil stopped himself, you didn’t wanna hear about his personal life. Your gasp nearly made his heart stop.

“You’re joking! What a b-“ you stopped yourself. “It’ll be by in 10 alright? Just hang tight.” You hung up.

Basil crinkled his brow as he stared at the phone, you’d sounded like… like you cared.

The minutes passed faster than he thought possible as he fumbled for cash around his apartment. He figured he could just slip it under the door when you came. No one should see him like this.

A light but antsy knock sounded on the door. “Pizza. It’s me!” Your light voice muffled slightly by the thin door set his nerves alight.

“T-thanks.” Basil called from his side, pressing close and peeking through the peep-hole at your beautiful face.

Confusion etched into your features as you waited for the door to open. “Basil?”

“Oh right, here.” Shuffling sounded as two 20s awkwardly slipped under the front door. “Keep the change.”

“Basil I, I wanted to talk. Are you alright?” He could see you worry your bottom lip as you glanced along the empty hall.

“Fine! Ah, sick I don’t want you to catch it.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he watched you. Please please just leave. You couldn’t see him like this…

“Oh ah, feel better.” Sadness knitted your brow a moment before you set the pizza and bag of cinnamon bread on the ground. You went to say something but caught yourself. Instead putting your hand up to the door and signing softly.

Basil watched with his heart hammering away in his chest. Watched until he heard the elevator ding and was sure you’d left. When he opened the door the first this to surprise him is the money still sitting just on the other side, the second was some writing left on the box.

Your cell number along with a note,

Her loss, call me ;)

———————————

Apologies for the clunkiness I’m still getting back in the swing of writing between a new job and BG3 stealing me away (gettin all the kisses from my virtual husband Halsin 😘)

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxit @faretheeoscar

[aha-chuu]

We need to talk: the Kaveh voicelines are out

This is leaks but they're voice acted by the en VA so they're definitely correct - I'm gonna share some of the interesting and funny tidbits I saw!

Tighnari introduced Kaveh to Cyno - Kaveh is super complimentary of Tighnari

Kaveh is pretty nice about Cyno too, even saying he has a very big heart! EXCEPT he absolutely decimates his sense of humour, saying "you better hope there's beer around if Cyno's telling jokes"

Speaking of which: Kaveh freely admits to having a drinking problem :'(( my poor sweet boy

Oh but he's not a poor sweet boy. Somehow the general fanon is once again proven false, since Alhaitham is absolutely the babygirl here and Kaveh is working man who has to like. Do shit.

(they can both be babygirls it's a vibe)

Kaveh's snow voiceline MADE ME CACKLE he complains that the cold air is creeping up his back (where there's a hole) and down his front (low cut shirt)

Kaveh proves me right about Alhaitham: absolutely is a man with full understanding of social norms and who has a breadth of emotion and personality, he just isn't interested in indulging others in it 👍

Kaveh's second Alhaitham voiceline... I'm gonna make a whole other post when there's a transcript (tomorrow probably) because it might be the most canon thing they've ever said (and it made me sad)

Etc etc interesting lore esque stuff for another post

No Mehrak mentions?? Poor girl

Kaveh obviously loves soup , funny because it's the only food Alhaitham dislikes. EDIT: someone on Reddit pointed out that when you give Alhaitham soup in the spices event, he says he'll take it home. Is Alhaitham feeding Kaveh all the soup? Discuss.

YOU TYPECAST MY BOY yeah so Kaveh can't handle spicy food, y'all bullied Alhaitham and Kaveh is the Problem here

I'm talking a lot about Alhaitham, but Kaveh doesn't! He has the two voicelines and then alludes to him a couple times, but not by name or as "my roommate". Kaveh may be living in Alhaitham's voicelines rent free but Kaveh seems really uh... Too emotional to talk about it (for the separate post)

I gotta go through the Beidou voicelines cos he brings up alcohol A LOT

Oh yeah Candace yet again doesn't have a voiceline about her. didn't expect it but damn she's going for a record

Overall I think Kaveh needs a hug.

[spicywarl0ck]

Hi Spicy!!! How about some Pavelyan or Pavellan today (or any other pair that inspires you!): “I told you, you would eventually start begging.” -from Smutty prompts

Happy Friday, and thank you so much for the prompt! This took me two fridays to finish, because I got carried away with it. I had so much fun writing this for @dadrunkwriting, so thank you x3 Pairing: Dorian Pavus/mLavellan Rating: E Length: 2129

The rush of air felt cold against his flushed cheeks.

He heard the soft splashing of the nearby well, the sound comforting in contrast with the noise inside. Just a moment for himself was all he needed, a moment of calmness after dealing with too many politicians and murder plots.

Revassan took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scents of the exotic flowers around him. 

“Ah, and there I wondered where the hero of the evening went. I figured I’d find you here.” Dorian’s voice made him smile on the spot. It had been hard to find even a minute for themselves with everything going on. They’d only been able to squeeze in one tiny dance on the balcony.

“You always seem to sense where to find me,” Revassan smirked at the mage. “I’d almost say you keep a magical tracker on me.”

“Maybe I do.” He watched the eyes of the Altus glinting slightly, his lips stretching into a mischievous smirk. “We Tevinter mages are rather good at keeping track of our elves.” Dorian joked. “Wouldn’t want them to run away and develop free will, right?” he teased. 

“Ah, I knew there was a catch.” The elf chuckled, observing as Dorian's expression softened. “I take it you came to fetch me then?” 

“Actually, I wanted to steal a moment with you.” Dorian presented him with the bottle of wine he’d held behind his back. “What could be nicer than a picnic in Celene’s gardens right?” 

“And also her wine, I assume?” 

“Of course.” The mage gestured him toward the stone frame of the well. He would never get dirt onto his outfit. “But to soothe your conscience, I asked very politely,” Dorian added swiftly.

“Aren’t you always?” Revassan chuckled as he graciously sat next to the Tevinter mage. “I’m impressed.”

“As you should be.” By the creators, he loved this cocky man. He’s tried to withstand his charms at first but fell for him sooner than expected. Now, he was caught in his trap, unable to let go of the magnificent man that Dorian Pavus was.

“I see you’re very humble tonight.” Revassan teased, watching as Dorian conjured two drinking cups up before he filled them with the sweet red liquid.

“Of course I am.” Dorian’s mustache moved with his smile. “I am the humblest man you’ll ever meet,” he added, only his eyes betraying his words and calling his tease out. By now, Revassan was more than capable of reading this man.

It took him a while to see the vulnerability of Dorian, but he’d taken a deep understanding after meeting his father in Redcliffe.

“Thank you for sneaking the wine out.” Revassan’s smile was genuine. “I needed it,” he added. The past evening had been a lot, and he hadn’t been sure how to deal with political situations. His people didn’t really meddle in things like that, the conclave being the only exception he witnessed. 

If he was honest, it was surprising that they listened to a Dalish elf. 

“I know.” Dorian’s voice sounded soft when he spoke. “You’re not ballroom material,” he added, the tease evident in his voice. “For me, it’s like coming home.” His gaze drifted away for a heartbeat, the corners of his lips dropping slightly.

“Do you miss it?” 

“Home? Of course. Tevinter might have his flaws, but it’s still my home. Don’t you miss your Clan?” he replied, taking a thoughtful sip of wine as he let it dance on his palate. “Hm, I have to say not bad, but nothing could beat a Tevinter Redwine.”

“I miss them.” A sad smile danced on Revassan’s lips. “I miss them ever since I left. Funny, isn’t it?” he chuckled.

“I always wanted to leave, but now that I am so far away from them, I can’t help but want to go back.” It wasn’t as if he could or would, to begin with. There had been nothing more he wanted but to go back when he woke up in the dungeon in Haven. But he knew there was no turning back now.

He’d come too far for that. 

Also, there was Dorian. He wasn’t sure if his father would approve of a Tevinter Altus, meaning he’d need to make a choice sooner or later. For now, though, he didn’t want to choose.

“We always miss the things we can’t have. Or so they say.” The mage’s face turned firm, his eyes studying him intensely.

“I told myself I won’t compromise myself anymore.” He set the cup aside before his hand stretched to touch Revassan’s cheek. The elf felt the cold metal of Dorian’s rings pressing against his skin, the touch soothing against his wine-heated cheeks.

“Neither should you.”

Revassan couldn’t say who initiated it, maybe both of them, but he didn’t care much about the hows and who’s as he melted contently into the kiss. Dorian always knew what he needed, the sweet taste of Orlesian wine lingering on his lips.

He got lost in the touch, slightly shuddering against the mage’s palm cupping his cheek. 

It was easy to forget everything around them as he closed his eyes, just enjoying the moment and closeness of the other man against him as neither wanted to withdraw.

“Getting a little excited?” Dorian chuckled against his lips as he felt him shiver

He didn’t even give him a chance to answer until his tongue brushed against his lips, gently asking for entrance before slipping in. This bastard knew all too well what he did to him. Revassan melted in his arms as his whimpers were muffled by the invading tongue exploring his mouth.

An unbearable heat began to claim his body, yet he also shivered as he felt the chilly breeze.

All he felt was the body pressing against him and the tongue moving inside his mouth. A hand pressed against his lower back, drawing him closer while the mage ravaged every corner of his mouth, leaving him wanting more.

“Dorian~” his voice got muffled against his devouring lips, and he wasn’t sure if he had spoken or just uttered the altus’s name in his head. It didn’t really matter.

“You’re shivering.” The smug reply indicated that Dorian heard him after all. “Oh, but you’re also so aroused right now. I can feel it,” he added, luring a groan out of the elf’s lips as their pelvises touched.

“So are you.” Revassan teased before a rushed breath escaped him when Dorian pushed him further against one of the walls surrounding the gardens.

“I am always excited for you, Amatus,” he whispered against his ear, his tongue darting over the pointed tips and making him moan hoarsely. Revassan tried to hold back, but he couldn’t betray the want in his voice.

Creators, he wanted this man, and he wanted him now.

“We can’t.” The elf tried to protest still, fighting a battle against his wine and lust-filled brain. He wanted to do nothing more but to be ravaged by the tevinter mage, no matter the place or the time. 

“I can tell you don’t mean what you say.” Dorian chuckled, his lips still too close to his sensitive ears. 

He dragged his tongue all over the tip, causing Revassan’s fingers to curl into his tunic tightly. A strangled moan escaped him as he tilted his head to the side, giving the impossible man more access to his ear and neck.

“I guess I have to make you beg for it then. We both know you will.” 

It was both a threat and a promise. Dorian always managed to bring him to that point, and Revassan was sure the Altus would manage this time, too. No matter if they were in the Empress's gardens or not.

A part of him needed to admit that the thought excited him a bit.

“What if someone sees us?” The elf asked, even though the chance added to the thrill. He knew the corner that Dorian was dark enough that no one would see for real, but just the implication of it would serve the nobles enough topics to gossip about.

“Are you truly caring about that?” Dorian’s voice was husky, but Revassan knew he only needed to say the word, and he’d stop.

“I leave that to you to find out.” Revassan teased him, only to moan as quietly as he could when he felt Dorian’s teeth scrapping against the sensitive skin of his ears.

One hand slowly snaked towards his crotch, brushing against his bulge innocently enough to play it off accidentally. But he knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t help but press against the hand, secretly yearning for more as the mage’s lips and teeth drove him insane in such a short amount of time.

“Dorian…~” he whimpered as the Altus kissed his way to his earlobe, only to continue at his neck. 

His hips couldn’t help but move against the hand cupping his erection, but he was too proud to beg. He wouldn’t give in to Dorian’s demands that quickly, but he also couldn’t help the dizziness rushing through him. It probably was the mixture of the blood flow and the wine. 

“I love it when you moan my name like this, Amatus.” The cocky mage whispered against his heated skin.

His lips left marks where they touched him as his hand slowly vanished within the elf’s trousers. They were so close to the goal as they stretched over the smooth skin above his hard cock, the touch so very teasing as Revassan wanted nothing more but to be touched.

But Dorian wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Not just like that.

“You’re such a… a prick.” Revassan stuttered out, his brain unable to focus on anything but the heat and the throbbing pulse of his cock.

“I am, but admit it, You love me for it.” Dorian chuckled against his neck, leaving another mark behind after sucking the sensitive skin. Revassan felt every tooth dragging over his skin and the soft sensation of the mage’s lips as it pressed right against him.

But Dorian was right. He loved this man more than anyone else.

“Dorian…” a moan broke past the elf’s lips again, his hips grinding wantonly against the hand touching anything but his throbbing cock. “Pl… Please.” he gave in and fought his pride, not caring if anyone would see them.

All that he wanted was Dorian.

“I told you. You would eventually start begging.” The altus chuckled just as his hand traveled lover to wrap around Revassan’s cock. “It’s alright,” he added in a soothing voice as the elf moaned underneath his touch, his fingers curling firmly into his clothes. 

“I take care of you,” Dorian promised softly, his hand never ceasing its pumping motion as it dragged up and down on the pulsing shaft. 

It drove him insane. Both the sensation and the knowledge of being jerked off in the Empresse’s gardens were too much. He didn’t know what to think since all his thoughts became a heated blur, his hips thrusting into his lover’s hands on their own. 

It didn’t matter anymore where they were or what they did. All that mattered was that Revassan was here and the heat rushing through him, wanting more. And what he wanted right now was to find release within his lover’s hands.

“I’m close.” he moaned, his forest green eyes hooded and foggy when he tried to make eye contact.

“Then come for me, Amatus,” Dorian answered, his voice hoarse since he couldn’t hide his own desire. “Come,” he added in a whisper, his lips gently sucking at the tip of Revassan’s pointed ear as his hand kept a firm grip on his cock.

He didn’t budge when the elf found his release within his hand, hips stuttering as he made a small mess.

For a moment, he felt shaky. Only the body of his lover could keep Revassan from falling onto the ground as his heart rate went up. He almost felt like he was bursting, and everything around him was a blur.

But he felt Dorian’s warmth and strength as it held him, the mage’s aftershave so prominent in his nostrils.

Revassan could’ve fallen asleep but forced himself to regain a clear head. No one was around them, just the two of them sharing a heated embrace as the elf slowly came to his senses.

“What about you?” he asked hoarsely as one of his hands softly brushed questionably against Dorian’s bulge. 

“How about we join the party for now, and you repay me after we retire to our quarters?” The altus whispered against his ear, cleaning his hand with a handy spell and giving Revassan a moment to make himself decent again.

“You think anyone can lend us any silk shawls?” 

[hankwritten]

Words That Taste Bad in Your Ears

Zhanna/Scout, 1k

Saturday (July 8) : Spicy | Savory | Sweet

“We need car,” Heavy said when they landed in the middling Australian town barely propped up by the minuscule airport.

“We are here to find transportation,” Heavy reminded forty-five minutes later.

“We,” he grit out, emphasis on every syllable as Zhanna and Scout pressed their faces to a glass display case containing children’s toys—ooing and aaing as if they were children themselves—“come to village. For car.”

“Relax Big Guy,” Scout waved away, not taking his eyes off as a wooden cutout with mechanical limbs fired an unsettlingly detailed toy rifle, causing a 2D wooden kangaroo across the display to fall flat, “won’t kill you to slow down a goddamn sec.”

“These words. They come out of little Scout’s mouth. Are you even listening?”

“Mm hmm…”

“Scout! Tell Heavy to slow!”

“Yeah…” Scout still hadn’t taken his eyes off the display, watching as the toy hunter and toy kangaroo reset themselves with clicking precision.

“Chatterjay is right,” Zhanna, exposed to The Worst of Heavy’s coworkers and now traitorous and unhelpful, said. “Misha rushes us.”

“We are in rush.”

“If someone has not come and taken all the metal by now, a few hours extra hours will not make.”

“<Zhanna,>” Heavy said, switching to a language that could properly capture his annoyance. “<We came to do a job! We aren’t here to be tourists, to go sprinting about some no where town in the dry and the heat just to gawk at all the stupid things the Australians have come up with. I Are you doing this just to aggravate me?>”

“<Not everything I do is about you, Misha,>” Zhanna shot right back, straightening up from the glass display and nearing his high with a glare. “<Have you ever thought that maybe I want to go look at things that aren’t an endless icy expanse? That maybe your sister wants to live a little for the first time in twenty years?>”

“<Our family keeps our word. When we say we’ll do a job, we’ll do it.>”

“<That is what you do. And you’ve applied it to the rest of us without proof.>” Zhanna puffed up. “<We’ll go to the big rock when we’re good and ready. And if that little purple woman is cranky, well then she can just go cry about it.>”

“Yeah!” Scout said, puffing up beside her. “No idea what my girlfriend just said, but she sounded pissed at you and I support her wholeheartedly. Screw you Heavy!”

Zhanna, for whatever reason, thought this was very funny. “Screw you!” she repeated.

“Screw you!”

They echoed this back and forth a few times until Heavy had had quite a enough, marching off down the street to find suitable transportation on his own. His two—supposed—mission-mates kept laughing, Zhanna so hard she squeezed Scout in a sidehug that lifted him off the ground.

Still, through the oxygen throttling show of expression, he managed to throw out one last, “Screw- gak! –you…”

“Love you little chatterjay. Such a way with words.”

“…Thanks…*wheeze*…babe…”

*

Heavy’s solo expedition did not pan out as well as he had hoped. This was not how he would have split the Team had he been in charge, though at first he was relieved he could keep an eye on Zhanna a bit longer; she was the eldest of his sisters, but age did not translate to wisdom, and it often seemed she sought out trouble on purpose. Trouble like Scout for instance. Probably the worst man she could have chosen to suddenly fling her first ever affections on, Scout took her sudden interest in stride, and was in no way disturbed when they had calcified into this unshakeable loyalty. Zhanna had decided what she liked, and what she liked was this annoying little toothpick who wouldn’t shut up.

How he hoped Bronislava and Yana were getting into less trouble. He’d sheltered them out of love yet…

Yet he had to admit many of his decisions weren’t always the best ones. The quest for a rental car for instance. The last three Australians he spoke to insisted on arm wrestling him before doling out any quest information, and when he handily beat them it turned out most of their advice were things like, “Don’t know about that, maybe go ask Marsha up the road?” In the end Heavy was fed up that he started refusing ‘brawls’ all together, which only further decreased his success rate.

When he finally trudged himself into the town’s largest diner, he was less than pleased to run into Scout and Zhanna there, still dragging their feet.

“And in the states,” Scout was saying, “chicken comes in buckets. It’s great. I don’t know why but having chicken in a bucket is just so much better than regular chicken- you know I even have this chicken costume they let me have for free when the TFC—Teufort Fried Chicken—place was closing down. They just threw it away! Okay so they didn’t let me have it for free, I had to go out to the back and fish it out of the dumpster, but it was worth it because they’d had a guy wearing that mascot costume for thirty years before they closed down—thirty year old grease stains on the inside! Can you believe it!—but then the Italian place across the street ran them out of business.”

“Mm…” Zhanna said, chin resting in hands as she watched him across a plate of friend chicken.

“So instead of being a mascot, it’s now a mas-scout! Get it? Ha! I crack myself up.”

“Yes. Cracked like chicken egg. Scout is done talking now though, and will go back to putting showing me ‘real cuisine’.”

“Huh? Oh! Oh right, yeah.”

So Scout picked up a chicken wing, and leaned forward. Zhanna took a rip out of the flesh, then proceeded to lick the savory grease off Scout’s fingers. The two did break eye contact during this.

Heavy sat down beside them with a mild noise of disgust.

“Brother! Finally done wandering around?” Zhanna wiped the grease off her mouth with her sleeve. Scout watched her do this adoringly.

“Heavy,” Heavy grit, “was looking for car. To get us out of this place.”

“A ride? Ha! We already found one, dummy,” Scout said.

“What?” Heavy said. “When?”

“While you were out moping. C’mon, it’s out back.”

Heavy was left to be the one to throw bills on the table. This annoyed him. And then, annoyance didn’t even begin to cover what he felt when he walked to the back of the diner and found, not a car, but a scooter with a sidecar attached.

“This will not make five kilometers,” Heavy said doubtfully.

“Sure it will! The chick who sold it said it ‘outrun a pack of thirty dingoes, all while you’re transporting live feral wombats’.”

“Implication was that would be fighting wombats, while dingoes are chasing,” Zhanna nodded helpfully.

“…Fine,” Heavy said, walking toward the vehicle. “As long was we are leaving.”

But before he could even touch the thing Scout barked, “Nope! I’m driving, chucklenut.”

“What?” Heavy demanded.

“Sorry man, way it’s gotta be. I’m driving, Zhanna’s riding bitch, and you-” Scout paused, wiggled his finger in a circle, and papped it against Heavy’s chest, “-get the baby carriage.”

“Scout is not serious.”

“He is,” Zhanna nodded solemnly, “I will be riding this bitch all the way to big rock.”

She used one arm to squeeze Scout around the shoulders, who promptly turned bright ride. Heavy got in the sidecar. It was the only place he could effectively turn around, and not have to look at them anymore. Better alone in the hack for the entire rest of the trip than to spend one extra minute than he had to with them.

He would have words for Pauling when this was all done.

[heiayen]

Deliver us the failwife or suffer the hand of judgment

the greatest partner in the kitchen - tighnari x gn!reader

tags: headcanons, some kind of comedy, it's pretty short but it's brainrot moment lol he's just a funny failwife guy

summary: tighnari can't cook. no, he tried to cook, he listened to all the recipes and yet somehow... his dishes and cooking skills left you rather traumatized.

a/n: those are very scary threats. i have nothing to say in fear of my pride and life. please enjoy <3

(edit: the post refuses to show in the tags <3 tumblr doesnt want me back it seems AAAAAA wheeh it does now! a win)

If you ever need to cook something, please do not ask Tighnari for help. The only thing this man is good at is cutting things fast, and even so they aren't always in the right shape and then you are left with tomato slices when you asked for cubes…  (it's no difference for him, a tomato is going to taste like a tomato anyway.) 

Not only that, but please don't let him go near the spices. He knows all the plants used for spices, he could recite you an encyclopedic description of it but to actually use it in the kitchen? No, please don't let him do that, for the sake of your sanity and already poor stomach. If you tell him that you want your soup spicy then sure, yes, he will add the spicy spices. Except they probably won't be the right spices but anything that makes food spicy and you will end with… interesting results. 

Don't let him use salt and pepper too. He uses too much salt, too much pepper, not enough salt and not enough pepper, he used sugar once instead of salt and you wondered why your meat was… so sugary. Not sweet even, it was just sugar. 

To this day you don't know how he achieved that. 

As a person rather smart, he tried his hardest to use his botanical knowledge while cooking. Not botanical only, no, he tried many 'cooking tricks' that came from his own very not culinary knowledge… which, well. It ended badly. Both for your stomachs and the kitchen itself. From that day you decided to ban Tighnari from doing any kind of cooking tricks around you. 

If he wants to experiment on mushrooms and then feed you with it then no, he is going to eat it himself first and maybe then you will try this dish too. Depending on how he reacts. 

One day, you asked him to cut the onion– in cubes of course, you specified it to him this time. Tighnari looked at you and rather hesitantly nodded his head. Turned out that he's rather sensitive to some smells and others. It was an experience, seeing him cut the onion as fast as he could just to leave the kitchen and get as far away as he could from the goddamn onion. 

From that day you learned the exact reason why some of his dishes simply lacked certain vegetables and spices. 

Overall… he's…  a great emotional support in the kitchen. He can taste your dishes and tell what he thinks about them, he can talk your ear off about mushrooms and other stuff he's interested in, he can keep you company but never, and I mean never help you in the kitchen without it ending in some kind of disaster.

[yourfavoriteleex]

I haven’t made a post on here in a while so lemme tell you about how I fucked up recently

Since I’ve posted on here, I’ve gotten into a relationship with a really sweet boy named Ben.

He’s the absolutely love of my life and treats me better than anyone ever has before. And I don’t feel like I deserve to have him but I’m so lucky that he chose me.

Anyways. Enough sappy lol

Obviously when you start a new relationship, you have to tell the person about your kinks/fetishes if you want them to be used during spicy time lol… BUT… i fucked up 😂

As everyone on my blog knows, im a lee leaning switch. VERY LEE LEANING. Like im in a lee mood basically 24/7.

I told Ben about my t-word kink, expecting him to react confused, or weirded out. (No one ever seems to think it’s weird that I’ve told, but I still get nervous telling people because they might think it is.) but he did not react that way.

It started out with like light teasing and playful t-words while watching shows or goofing around. But it’s turned into something so much more now.

He wanted to go through my tumblr a few weeks ago. Of course I let him, because he seemed curious and interested. But I MESSED UP LOL

I have turned this man into a full blown Ler and I don’t know how I managed to do it.

Someone who had never even heard of this kink or been turned on by something like this, now gets into Ler Mood’s on the daily, craving to t-word me just to hear my laugh, and torture me.

His favorite thing to call me is his “tickle toy” because he knows how much it flusters me and makes my lee moods so much worse.

He’s started thinking of tools to use to tickle me, and even mentioned wanting to get one of the fucking tables to strap me into and I am NOT OKAY LMAO

I mean.. don’t get me wrong. This is literally EVERYTHING IVE EVER WANTED IN MY LIFE. But I can’t handle how flustered he makes me and how much I love this man.

So.. to fluster some of the other lees out there, here’s some of my favorite things he’s said to me that are t-word related.

“You better stop with that attitude or I’ll show you just how ticklish you really are.”

“Why are you laughing? I’m barely touching you” or “Nothing funny is happening. Better stop laughing or I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

“Come here, tickle toy.”

“Do I need to tie you to the bed and get the hairbrush? Maybe some baby oil?”

“You’re too ticklish to be talking to me like that.”

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it tickle toy?”

“I think Kitten needs to be punished.”

“You try to act all big and scary but really, you’re just a ticklish little lee.”

“You’re done talking.” (Then when I try to protest, he uses one of the others)

LIKE… ASDFGHJKL MY LEE BRAIN CANNOT HANDLE THIS.

Also especially when he just says the t-word to watch me get flustered over it and then tease me about it? I-.. I can’t handle it lmao

WHAT HAVE I DONE 😂

@theoncetickler

[lmelodie]

Helloooooo :D 💕

OKAY. SO.

Lucy —

🐁 Capybaras are friend-shaped. What shape does your OC have?

🌧️ What is the favorite thing for you OC to do on a rainy day?

Chimera — 

🥪 On a scale from ‘burns water’ to '5 course menu’ how well can your OC cook?

📚 Your OC has to improvise a 10 minute lecture about a topic of their choosing. What do they chose?

Killian —

🥞 Does your OC take proper care of themselves, like getting enough sleep and eating properly?

🪤 What is one thing that could be used to lure your OC into a trap?

I like how out of the box these questions are these are all really fun! I'll be coming for your inbox soon enough.

Lucy:

Lucy to me is either Sun shaped (ironically) or Flower shaped. Like one of those Japanese cherry blossom flowers. I think she's shaped like that. But truly there is no character more Freind shaped than one Lucy Miller. If not those than maybe main character shaped☀️🌸

I have come to the conclusion that she is in fact a gamer! Besides the multitude of games, she has on her phone she also has a 3DS and probably some kind of xbox console left as a hand me down from Charlie. Animal Crossing and Minecraft I wanna believe are her favorites. Tulip has been known to take up an AGGRESSIVE amount of space on her lap while she plays.

Chimera:

Regarding Chimeras cooking abilities, I would say that she shoots pretty much straight down the center lol. She can definitely cook for herself, has done so for thousands of years, but she is also not a master. I think she tends to make her food too spicy or acidic for other people to handle. Which is always mad funny to her.

Her ten-minute speech is on the differences between something that's venomous and something that's poisonous. She knows A LOT about these kinds of things and has a lot to say about how badly you will shit yourself if you consume something poisonous NOT venomous.

Killian:

Kills, my sweet terrifying blorbo man. He probably doesn't take care of himself as well as he should. Mans is like a goat and will literally eat whatever which isn't the greatest, but he seems to be fine anyway so ig it's alright. But because he deals in nightmare work, his magic makes it so that he can stay awake a lot longer than other spirits.

Sprites need at least four hours every day. Spirits (fully magical ones) need four hours at least every 3 days or so. Killian doesn't need to sleep until the one-week mark before he passes out. (Sandy is the only other spirit with an exception to these rules because he needs a regular human amount of 8 hours every single night). And it's a lot more of a common occurrence than you would think, so he isn't dying but he can always improve lol.

The stick and the box trick is a delima lol. Because you cant tell me HE himself isn't the one that came up with using the cardboard box and stick idea in the first place. But to answer the question, I'm thinking either Cheap Liquor and cigs or a potential victim of some sort. Someone really nervous or unsure that's ripe for the scaring. He never misses and opportunity.

And because Idk when I'll have the opportunity to post this you get a consolation prize for the asks! Ig it's a CC spoiler, but only just a little bit. Thank you K!

[1d1195]

✨part two✨

Okay BESTIE INDEPENDENT WAS SO GOOD!!! Idk where to begin tbh! He’s so wild for saying he loved her the first day he met without even asking her on a date first?! Crazy but I love him 😊 oh and you know I love when you throw in multiple tropes! Okay so I really felt for this MC :( I mean duh I literally always find something relatable to them lol anyways I felt so bad for her, everyone NEEDED her and I kinda felt bad because my girl was being used :( even if some didn’t do it with the “bad” intentions my girl is just being taken advantage of 😭(idk why I was so hurt I’m probably just projecting my own shit lol ) ANWAYS HE NAMED HER POPPY😭😭😭 he obviously “kitten” named dropped on the first day but him wanting a special nickname for her is just so 😭 all of this was giving rom com vibes especially when he would ask her out and his little moments of him never really giving up!! My heart BROKE when she was explaining why should couldn’t date anymore💔 and it’s so valid especially for he constantly giving her all! No one should settle for less though bc there are people who will love you the way they need too!! Anyways for some reason the MC was constantly giving me major Tulips vibe lol idk why but for some reason she reminded me of that story! ALSO loved the way it ended with them both being a bit sick and just finding comfort within each other 😭 such a sweet ending loved this one shot!!!!! So so good bestie!!!

I’m so OBSESSED that you’ve found a new book bf bc from what you told me about that basketball one this hockey one must be SO GOOD!! What are your fave things about this man?!?

Now my absence lol bestie I had to travel for a funeral lol I’m fine don’t worry like not even sad tbh! Anyways the most draining/anxiety inducing was just being around family members I haven’t seen in years or that I just simply don’t know lol and you know my thoughts about extended family so there’s that lol couldn’t be on my phone too much so I couldn’t even get out of awkward convos 😔AND technically it was my last full week off bc I start school next Thursday 😭 its such a horrible schedule bestie I fear this quarter will kill me lol anyways asides from that I also dyed my hair again🤭 it’s now a deep purple and Im kinda obsessed lol it’s so fun for me!

Missed you so much Sam😭 I hope your week/weekend was great! Also hope that you’re treating yourself well because you deserve it bestie! Wishing you the absolute best as always and I’m sending you so much love!!!! LOVE YOU!!-💜

I wish you could see the face I made when I read "my girl was being used" RIP to us. You're not projecting, that was literally the point of her unfortunately. I am nearly out of nicknames. I am hitting the bottom of the barrel STRUGGLING to come up with more ideas. I'm trying not to be TOO cliche. I have a few more left in me and then I gotta start looking internationally (if I remember correctly, you speak Spanish. Is mi vida an acceptable pet name for a FMC? that was one of my ideas.) Poppy is basically Tulips I just wanted to do this storyline a lot. But they're essentially the same and I was worried that it would be too obvious but I'm glad it's still working! It seemed to be a hit for which I'm so grateful 💕 Glad you liked it even if I broke your heart. I def loved making Harry sick but still caring for her. I think it's like the ultimate test of love.

WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE. He's smart, funny, he is OBSESSED with her. He brings her gummy bears and is so kind and caring about her past relationship. He's SO supportive and just lovely. Like she's writing a spicy roman-tasy novel and where I would be hella embarrassed (exhibit A being my secret blog life) she tells him all about it and he wants to read it and it's just so cute. He's also a wicked nerd. Which is adorable. Because he's like on the fast track to the NHL but here he is obsessed with Lord of the Rings. Like so adorable. I think basically I'm a softie for a book boyfriend that pays attention to the lead and is just so lovely.

I'm so sorry for your loss even if you're not that sad. I've been that way about the last few funerals I've been to, so no judgment here. Family really is the worst. Awkward convos and small talk is the worst AND ON YOUR LAST WEEK OF BREAK UGHHHHHH. I'm sorry, that sucks. I hope your quarter looks worse than it is. What's on your schedule this term? I love that you die your hair so often! I'm so not brave enough. I have virgin hair and have never done anything to it. Not really something I'm interested in enough to commit. I know it'll grow back and whatnot but still.

I treated myself by reading a whole book when I should have been working on lesson planning but oh well. There's always tomorrow 🤭

LOVE YOU!!!!

xoxo

[plasticfangtastic]

Carnivorous Lamb Ch. 6

A Homelander x M! OC fanfic.

A/n: first fic posted for 2024! thanks for all who've read this story and back to the lenghty chapters am so fond of, sorry this hasn't been proof read and its now slightly canon divergent ( I should be making a masterlist soon) prev. ch:

Tags: age gap, moral degradations, priest kink, voguelbitch mention.

Chapter 6

We skipped Autumn

Time had abandoned these holy grounds, trees continued to bear excess fruits, wild flowers still bloomed without control and the paint never seemed to fully chip away, the service had ended and not a single car or body of note remained in the building.

He flew closer and quietly, not wanting to disturb the perched bird or hungry bee buzzing about.

Landing with pebbles crunching under his red boots, examining the door to find the same old scratches but the smell of varnish stronger than the last time he’d been here.

Pews looked restored and the books were new, the balsamic scent of frankincense gentle, a wall of thick candles was a new addition to the altar, and the ornamental cross had been recently polished.

The man didn’t lift his head much, just leaning his ear to the sound.

He approached him with trepidation, steps unsure as to what he’ll find, he always expected to find a spook or a decrepit old man but all he finds its a mildly miffed older guy– Homelander feels his chest painfully swell under his padded suit as he takes in his sweet fragrance… redhaven peaches.

A thick stubble adornes his sharp features with mostly salt, his once long hair its shorter and brushed to the side, what was pale now mingles with a sea of gray and silver, his eyes have heavy bags under them and wrinkles somehow are deeper yet sparse, the lines on his forehead furrow as they look back at him– he was so handsome, Homelander thought… wishing to whisk him away to his tower before he could scold him or he himself could utter something stupid.

“I installed a door bell for a reason.” The man continued to fold a cincture into a small box– should you have come in?”

In truth it had been years… five years since he had even dared to come into this old building, five years since he had seen him, since he had held him.

“I’m unwelcomed?” he asked, his voice sounding meaner than he wanted, who was he to be offended when he had been the one to leave first?

“You must be quite desperate if you found yourself returning to this place after leaving… then again… I saw what happened on the news– Compound V… I’m sorry” He bit his lip slightly– is that why you’re here?”

He asked softly, taking a few steps towards him, keeping a close eye to his stiff posture, at the way his chest stays eerily still not keen to take another breath in his presence, Homelander assumes.

“God doesn’t exist. That’s proof of that.” Homelander watchest the creases of his forehead deepen– isn’t that funny?"

“Doesn’t mean anything. Not to me. It was hard to hear her the news… but–

“I’m not divine– Just some lab project.” Homelander felt a well form in his chest as he spoke, he certainly could never say such things to anybody else– so why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry your parents did that to you. I’m sorry that your company continued to hurt innocent kids to satisfy their parents' greed… none of that changes my belief that God made you.” His voice is hurt, it catchest Homelander’s by surprise genuine concern takes over him-- that you're proof of his glory."

Lost in thought for the first time he was taken by surprise as calloused hands took his face, dipping slowly into his neck to hold him firmly in his sight.

“No, Jonah Voguelbaum made me in a lab. Kept me in a white brick shoebox… he made me… there was no God involved.”

“Argue with me all you want John… when I look at you that’s all I need… it’s not up to debate… that you're made by him... Now tell me why after all these years you’ve come back.”

“It had quite the day today…” His smile faded as quickly as it came– I had no one to talk to… ” His lips quivered, sinking into his touch, unclenching his shoulders– you should be mad at me… for leaving…”

“I could have never asked you to stay, John.” His words are almost cruel had his voice not been a lullaby– even if I wanted… I’m an old man… regardless… you’re back… and you look so upset… tell me… tell me all the things you’ve held inside you.”

Homelander thought he was so sweet… who needed candy and chocolate when his touch was just as sweet.

They would lay on the floor with their backs against the altar, Homelander rested on his lap as he spoke candidly of all the endured misfortune since he was gone, of visiting Voguelbaum, of their discussions, of his feelings after he witnessed his death how little he felt at first but in the company of only his shadow he cried, unable to understand why, he cried when he watched the funeral from afar, unwelcomed by his family as if he was guilty of something… of Edgar’s distaste of him, of the tragedies befalling the Seven, of Madelyn’s death at his hands and her betrayal… of her lies… of all the things he did for her… only for her to lie to her about the most sacred thing in his heart… of his english stalker, and that brat with the hipster haircut coming into the Seven.

He spoke of horrible things until sunset, when the room grew darker and shaded– a pale orange glow overpowered the blues and greens of the painted glass. Spoke until his mouth felt unbearably dry and the hand stroking his hair the only comfort he had ever experienced in his life was getting exhausted, Amarello always gave little when it came to expressions… so serene and poised, even as his legs grew numb and his shoulders burned from discomfort he soldiered on, not wanting to leave him, not wanting to let him hurt alone while he was there.

John had aged in that short span of time, his hair slicked back giving him a serious look, he looked sleep deprived and even in those perfect blue skies there was a darkness buried deep within them.

His boy who had always been so delicate had hardened.

All these edges sharpened but beneath the blade he could still spot John, he kissed his Forehead as the boy calmed down, as he could see him grow lighter after letting it all out.

“Why did you went to the funeral…? I thought it's been years since you last spoke… I understand everythign else... but why?"

“I don’t know. I… I wanted to understand why I hurt so badly… after all he did… Why did it hurt?” He buried his face into his stomach wanting to not be seen in such a state– why wasn’t I invited?”

His shoulders shivered as he caught a sob escaping his mouth.

“I… I used to call him dad…” 

He wished he had anybody else beside him to cry, but this was something he was grateful for, that despite his abandonment, despite being forced to leave him– the man would allow him in his arms and comfort him.

As he cried he began to forget of Voguelbalm, of the funeral fiasco and being asked to leave shortly before the ceremony began by his third ex-wife, he forgot of the faces the other Vought execs gave him and the other Supes who were invited as he forced himself to smile politely and listen to their request in the midst of curious whispers, of how he was made to watch perched on a tree as that headless body was taken away into a box six-feet under, how strange it had been to not even be allowed to see him until he stood before the grand marble box staring at the body within, his fingers certainly looked chubby and familiar and the scar he gave him on his shoulder back when he was learning about temperature control and lasers was still present but without a head… it didn’t feel real, despite being in the room when it happened.

He cried and pushed it out, thinking of what it took for him to deprive himself of this… he thought of the meeting with Madelyn and Stan and those other buffoons, and the therapy sessions he was mandated to attempt where they told him the same things he was told when he mentioned he thought Sylverster Stallone was handsome and not in the way that sounded like admiration… of the same things he was told when he was caught staring at an orderly for a minute too long, of the way he was told to how everything would be ruined if anybody found out… of one frantic phone call begging him to help him as he felt his life was in danger.

How he had to promise to never come back or he would die.

But now all those people whose opinion allegedly mattered were gone.

“You should come to the tower…”

His eyes heavy and sore, he wants to sleep but not alone.

The night has barely peaked from the other side of the heavens, and for some reason the man humors him.

“Why not… I’ve never been to the city… maybe I could get some inspiration for next week’s sermon.” 

Homelander jumps in surprise.

The view was certainly interesting, flying hadn’t been nearly as frightening as he imagined, the feeling in his gut was more prominent than he expected and the wind had been a lot colder than he could have anticipated.

The lights were so dazzling– disappointed when they landed on the Tower’s helipad wanting to see it for a little bit longer.

Not late enough for it to be mostly vacant but Homelander had been wanting to show him the tower regardless if people spotted them or not… a small tour, promising to show him the city later for even at the early hours of the morning there would be things to do.

“You really never been to New York?” Homelander asked as they entered the elevator just to make it to 99th.

“It’s quiet in Wyoming… the furthest I’ve ever been was Arizona and that was only to go watch the Superbowl… great game sorry your team lost.”

Homelander chuckled, he didn’t really care for football but he humoured him.

He found the place too bright, it might’ve as well be daylight, he showed him around the galleries, so many creepy pictures of Supes adorning the walls, even the busts made him uncomfortable and the metal monstrosity watching over the boardroom– he could barely discern the masked face of the supe that left him a bloodied knife on his parish door five years ago from that metal thing.

“So this is where the magic happens?” He asked not sounding amused, he took to the small table and served himself a drink– "which one is your chair?”

“The one in the middle of course.” Homelander says with a silly smile moving to take a seat– come sit.”

He had failed to notice the man had served him a drink too, he sat on Maeve’s seat and for a brief second he was peeved by this until one of the whisky glasses slid towards him, the man turned on his seat watching the view behind him.

“Can you turn the light’s off…?”

“Why?”

“It’s so pretty outside but you can barely see it with all these lights…” his voice sounded saddened, catching the Supe by surprise– is okay if you cannot.”

Homelander looked at one of the security cameras.

“Can somebody turn the camera’s off and the lights” He shouted his head tilting towards the east awaiting for the man in the control panel to do his thing almost growling as it takes his time, eventually the light flicker and the room its engulfed in darkness, even a stranger on the next door high-riser takes note of the unusual sight– we’re offline.”

The priest was admittedly disturbed by the presence of cameras, but ultimately it made sense for a building like this to have security up the wazoo, he took a sip of the whisky savoring the burn, it was but a fancy tickle in his stomach compare to Homelander, he looked to his companion one gloved hand gingerly holding the glass.

“What are they saying?” 

He looks at their direction, his lips turn stiff and for a brief moment he lifts the drink to his lips just letting them touch his gums, retching as the flavor it's much too strong, somehow it only tasted bearable when it stained other’s tongues, he listened to their quiet bickering thinking they were silent enough to miss him.

“They’re wondering why I bought a priest…if I finally decided to stop being such an asshole… laughing… can’t tell if you’re a priest-priest or an escort.” He chuckles– bastards–

“Don’t do it. Don't hurt them.” The chair slides closer to him, resting his free hand on the nook of his elbow– why did you invite me here, John?”

His mind immediately wandered to that meeting, to the paperwork that said so little and everything about Father Dennis Amarello– born an only child, in Colorado Springs, father had suddenly lost his mind and murdered his wife and attempted to murder his son, no motive was ever found and Agent Rogue successfully rescued the boy, only realizing of the crime that was taking place after catching the shrieking of an attacked woman’s during her patrols (In reality she just happened to have been visiting a boyfriend who lived two doors away from the Amarello’s by sheer luck). 

He began pursuing the call at 17 and had decent enough grades to get a scholarship and study to become a priest, when he turned thirty he was assigned to the dilapidated parish in a small town and had an uneventful life until he met Homelander it seems.

He was boring.

Nothing about him made sense to them, he could read the dossier a dozen times and fall asleep with ease, nobody understood why he had gone out of his way to hook up with this man, it hadn’t even mattered entirely that he was a man… but that he was a priest and 17 years his senior was certainly more problematic.

They could at least see he was quite agreeable.

But what they didn’t mention was his generosity, his kindness, his passion, or the way he made Homelander feel happy… how none of them had ever much so offered him a single cup of coffee in his years, how none of them could bare to listen to him if there wasn’t something they were gaining from him, how Madelyn who seemed the most perturbed by the news never invited him for Christmas and Thanksgivings, or fourth of July parties– sure they fucked but all he got were Christmas cards and half-dates that felt like meetings.

They weren’t there when he invited him to watch the Superbowl with some of the locals at the sport’s tavern, where he was pretending to care, being treated as their priest tourist friend.

They didn’t see how much… how much he gave him by just letting him be himself without ever saying a word against him, without judgment, just providing his undivided loyalty and devotion.

Letting go of him… knowing they would kill him for fear the news would destroy them both… his demographic would throw him away in an instant but Amarello would be killed by the public, he could see the disturbing spinning of the headlines, Amarello would never forgive him if he was excommunicated, if he was outed… but as they told him Noir was already there, he said he would never see him again and swore to never go there if that meant he could stay alive.

Amarello would in fact suddenly leave to another church, of which he had no idea of its location for three years before returning back to Wyoming.

As he looked at him with that horrid taste in his mouth.

“They asked me to swear I would never see you again, that they would kill you… back then… I was so easy and malleable… I would’ve done anything not to disappoint Madelyn.. or Voguebalm… he was there to tell me to stop… the bastard hadn’t even talked to me in years but he was there to parent me!” He cried.

“So this is defiance?” he asked, sounding a bit too amused by the gesture.

“I love you. I caved in… I was scared… because I love you.”

[peterlorres21stcentury]

Happy Thanksgiving 🦃

Sorry friends, I really wanted to have the next chapter of my story ready today (it's a story of eating! and weight gain and gluttony! and also I'm hungry for that turkey in the oven right now so it all seemed very appropriate). Unfortunately this didn't happen because most of my week was spent prepping the actual real-life cooking, even as I was composing paragraphs in my head.

I will say it was pretty funny to hear the Baron's mental comments on all the food I was making, and I do actually have an ending planned now! But the next chapter is delayed for another day or so. :( I did want to share just a little bit so here's a tiny teaser. I hope everyone has a great feast day, if you celebrate! And even if you don't, I hope you eat well. 🍗

“Too bad, really,” he sighed at last. He devoured a shortbread biscuit in two bites and absently held the plate within Lena’s reach without looking at her. His eyes flicked towards her when she did not make a move to take any. “Here, have some.”

“Oh, um. Are you sure?” she stammered.

“Of course I’m sure. Here, don’t be shy. Take several,” he snorted, leaving the plate in her hands. “Remember, this is for your benefit. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“That’s true. I mean, yes, of course. Thank you, Herr Baron.” She took a polite nibble of a biscuit. At once her entire mind sparkled with the sweet interplay of sugar and sea salt and dense crumbly butter dissolving in her mouth. She ate another, and then another, faster and faster. It wasn’t long before the entire stack of pure buttery confections had disappeared, leaving only a greasy sheen on the plate and a full, heavy feeling in her stomach that wasn’t there only minutes ago. She momentarily forgot herself and licked the delectable crumbs from her fingers, stopping only when she sensed the Baron’s eager, hungry gaze on her. Red-faced, she clasped her fingers in her lap.

“Oh… I’m sorry, Herr Baron. I didn’t mean to. That is, they were so good, and...”

“I know! Aren’t they wonderful?” he beamed. “Marta is an absolute miracle worker. You must ask her to bake more of those sometime. Would you like any more? I think there must be some in the pantry still.”

“No thank you,” she hastened to say. Her stomach quivered, full and a little sick with excess sugar and fat, yet somehow the slightest bit unsatisfied. “I’m almost worried I might eat them all.”

“Ahh.” He smiled knowingly. “Yes, they are filling, aren’t they. Perhaps you need a bit of this.”

He took the glass stopper from the decanter and poured out a shot of the mysterious clear blue liqueur in a fresh glass. “Here you are. This should make you feel better.”

She took the glass and held it close to her lips. Fumes of potent alcohol stung her nostrils as she inhaled, and—there it was again. That faint spicy aroma stayed her hand.

“Well, go on. What do you think, it’s poison or something?” the Baron laughed. “I hope not, I’ve drunk enough of the stuff.”

“No sir, that’s not it.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “Herr Baron, before I drink this, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Lena. Why? Is something troubling you?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that…” She hesitated, nervously biting her lip. “What exactly is the spice?”

“What is the spice,” he murmured drowsily. A deep frown furrowed his brow as he gradually realized the question. He stirred himself with difficulty and growled: “What do you mean, ‘what is the spice?’ You mean to tell me you don’t know?”

“N-no sir. Was I meant to?”

He blinked and sent a bewildered look to Madame Lushenko. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I was not aware you wanted me to,” replied the tight-lipped Madame. “My job is to keep your secrets, not reveal them to everyone in your employ.”

“But this is different! This is—” He sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth the energy to get too excited, and settled back into the chair. “Very well. If Lena wishes to continue working here, I think it’s time that I explained a few things to her. Celia, would you mind if I spoke to her in private? Oh—I will need the key before you go.”