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pretty-toru · 1 year ago

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boyfriend quiz ᰔ gojo satoru

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. fem!reader. established relationship. mentions of sweets. making gojo think every question he answers is wrong on a quiz you made up.

“Baby, let’s take a little couple’s quiz together, hm?”

Satoru had just stepped into your shared bedroom after a hot shower. The ends of his hair still damp from towel drying and his cheeks just a tickled pink from the steam as he takes long strides toward you, crawling into bed and stealing some of your warmth from under the covers.

“Hmm, why do I have a bad feeling about this~?” There’s a boyish smile on his face as he holds you close and nuzzles your neck softly, feeling like his head’s up in the clouds the moment he’s wrapped up in your scent. “But alright, I’m game! Let’s go, I’m ready. What’s the first question?”

The white tufts of your boyfriend’s hair delicately grazes your nose and you press a tender kiss to the top of his head. “So, imagine you’re at our favorite bakery, what do you buy?” You start with an innocent question, leading him to believe that there's no right or wrong answers but he suspects there's a trick up your sleeve.

“That’s a fun one! I’m at our favorite bakery, right~?” He ponders carefully for a moment. “Well, of course, I would want those delicious pastries, those yummy cakes, and those fresh breads! And while I’m there, I should grab a few of your favorites too!”

You almost forget just how incredibly thoughtful and caring Satoru can be. How you’re always on his mind and he spends a lot of time thinking about you no matter his whereabouts. You know this because it usually manifests in forms of gifts and trinkets—some sweet, some odd, some over the top, but they’re all very near and dear to your heart.

“Wrong.” You shake your head gently, forcing an exasperated sigh that tells him you’re disappointed and upset he managed to get the question wrong. But really, you’re just messing with him, making him think his answers are somehow incorrect in this one-sided game of yours. “You weren’t supposed to be there without me in the first place.”

“What do you mean, Angel~? Why can’t I be at the bakery without you? Even if I’m getting you something, too?” There’s a glimmer of confusion behind his cerulean hues, yet his earnest smile still remains and he’s a bit at loss for words but continues to indulge you.

“Next question—” Satoru quickly plops an affectionate kiss on your cheek before you continue, hoping to remedy your crestfallen face. “You have now left the bakery, what’s the next thing you do?”

“Easy. The next thing I do after leaving the bakery is be with my favorite girl, and share all the delicious things I got. I want to be with you, no one else.”

There he goes being so sweet again! He’s making this extremely hard for you not to openly swoon over him and smother his face with so many kisses, and he can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek trying to suppress your smile that he’s getting to you. But you shake your head again, “Wrong! You’re supposed to pick up the strawberries from the market like I had asked you to.”

“Oh my goodness, you’re right! I forgot all about the strawberry you wanted~” Satoru gasps loudly and runs a stressful hand through his hair. He then laughs and playfully rolls his eyes that he somehow answered wrong for the second time now. “Fine, I’ll go pick up the strawberries.”

You couldn’t help the quick kiss that lands on his cheek for being so utterly cute and adorable as you giggled along with him. “Okay, next question—a girl approaches you and she looks like she wants to hug you. What do you do?”

“Hm, who is she and why does she look like she wants to hug me?” He tilts his head to the side as he considers the situation. You feel like maybe, just maybe, he’s merely seconds away from getting a curveball thrown at him. Even though you know kind of partner he is, you’re quite curious as to what he’ll come up with.

“Well, what do you do~?” You gently urge him for an answer.

“It really depends, Angel. Are you the girl then?” His lips curl into a smirk, and he looks at you almost too knowingly like he could read your mind. But you know that even his Six Eyes can't do that.

You hate that he was able to figure it out so easily. He watches as your face lights up into your perfect and gorgeous smile, with your head falling onto his chest and face burrowing in defeat. All of his answers were simply too sweet and considerate with you in mind and you can feel your heart swell with so much love and adoration for him.

Your muffled words come up to reach his ears, “How’d you know to answer that I was there with you? You’re too smart for this. But yes, the girl is supposed to be me.”

“So you approached me, and you wanted to hug me, right~?” He strokes your hair softly and offers an amused chuckle. You slowly lift yourself off him to meet his soft gaze, nodding. “If you want a hug, you always get a hug, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t need to be told twice to have his strong arms coil around your figure, locking you sweetly in his hold that makes you feel completely safe and secure in his warm embrace. Then, a lingering kiss to your forehead just before he releases you but you can feel the faintest waver in his loosening grip that he never wants to let you go.

“Okay, one last question?” Your weight dips on the mattress beside him, tucking yourself in the nook of his arm and resting your head on his chest. He hums contently when your body always seems to fit so perfectly with his as he brings you closer to him like he can’t get close enough. ”What are we doing next?”

“Well, we could go home, eat the baked goods and the strawberries. After that, maybe snuggle while watching a movie and take a long nap together. How’s that sound to you, baby?”

You briefly mull over his words, and you can’t remember the last time he truly took some time off and enjoyed himself without restraints. So you’re determined to plan a fun and romantic getaway because even your loving and goofy boyfriend deserves a much-needed break to experience the small joys and pleasures with you every now and again.

“That sounds like our perfect next date.”

#sobsobsobs #pretending I didn’t see anything the leaks weren't real mentally I am here with my most beloved safe in my arms and happy #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk imagines #jjk x reader

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hxlxnaaa · 1 month ago

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: over one summer, a whirlwind romance creates an obvious choice: to stay in the life she's always known or follow sylus into the unknown, chasing love and freedom.

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: sylus

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: first-person POV, sort of present day au? pretty fluffy, some implications but nothing obvious, soft sylus, may have spelling errors (i wrote this at 2 am)

★ 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: this is super short and not really meant as an intense read. just some poetic fluff about sylus (lord knows we need more sweet reads of him *sob*)

I remember the first time I saw him.

He was so… different from everyone around. The way he acted, the way he held himself, the devious smirk that always graced his devilishly handsome face. He had this aura that was off, but in this perfectly, sickeningly good way. He was something this dull town never had.

He came in once to my bakery, smiling and talking to me as if he had known me forever.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” That was different, no one spoke to each other like that around here. Anyone in their right mind would be creeped out, yet I enjoyed every second; every word that came out of his mouth spoke with his deep, velvet voice. I loved the difference, I loved the attention he gave me. Constant indulging in the feeling his presence brought on.

Introducing himself as Sylus, I said his name thousands of times in my head.

The look he gave me when he learned my name was engraved in my mind for centuries. His hard eyes softened, repeating every syllable as if it was candy on his tongue. Of my name.

Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.

After that, he would visit at least once a day, if not a few times. He’d lean over my counter, propping himself up on one of his arms. He always rolled his sleeves up, and buttoned his shirt to his lower chest, showing enough of his perfect skin that I always resisted to touch.

“Red is your color.” I had told him this after he wore this delicious, wine red top. It complimented everything on him, like a rose in the snow.

“Everything is your color.” He leaned towards me, holding his face in his hand.

“Why do you say that?” I started serving a customer, and I could feel his eyes on me.

“Well,” He started, “Your personality is very warm, like yellow, orange, and red.”

I glanced at him, “Have a good evening!” I bid the lady I served goodbye.

“And your looks are very cool, blues and purples fit you best.”

Turning away from him, adjusting things on my shelves, I asked, “What about green?”

“What about green?” He repeated.

“You didn’t mention green. Does green fit me?”

He smirked, “I told you every color fits you. So green would too. I’m sorry I didn’t mention every shade in the rainbow.”

I turned back to him, and he had his head resting in his arms, staring at me with his usual smug look. Walking up to him, I ran a hand through his hair, “Y’know, green actually takes up most of the color spectrum. It has a countless number of shades.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” I gave him one of his favorite pastries I made, “it's evolutionary. Humans are omnivores, so our eyes help us differentiate between shades of green to help us find plants to eat and avoid, but it can help us find prey animals that are seeking specific kinds of plants.”

“You’re truly fascinating, sweetie. You and all your shades of green.”

“As are you, Sylus.”

As are you.

Sylus was on a trip here for the summer. When I asked him why?

"To find someone like you."

I thought of him as borrowing my heart, when I knew he wouldn’t return it when he left at the end of the summer. When the leaves turned yellow, red and orange, just as he described my personality, he’d take my heart with him back to his home.

I felt something with him, a spark, a waterfall of passion. Something I had never felt in this city before.

There were the ruins, a place where all the young civilians would go to party into the early mornings. Sylus convinced me to go with him once.

“I want the experience of being here.” He had stated matter of factly, yet I knew the tall man was just finding an excuse to be with me a while longer.

I rolled my eyes, “That’s not much of an experience, being around a bunch of sweaty drunks.”

Oh but it was. To travel back to that night, where we had danced together, our cheeks flushed with red wine, or bodies pressed into one.

He took me back to the bakery, and kissed me against the old brick walls. Him in his red shirt, buttoned down and sleeves up, his hair a mess, but still shining in the illumination of the moon and street lights.

From there, something shifted.

I’d show him all my secret spots, just to fall into a field together, tangled in each other's limbs. He’d kiss me like I was his world, and nothing else existed; and with him, nothing else did exist.

I tried to teach him how to bake, how to knead dough, how to remember measurements without a recipe. Sylus would get flour in his hair, on his cheeks, his nose, his shirt and his pants (all on purpose, courtesy of me).

"We have to match.” He’d say, before taking his flour covered hands and taking my face in them, rubbing his dusty nose on mine, rubbing our cheeks together. I giggled and smacked his chest with a towel, before wiping his and my face off.

There was the night where I wore a new dress; an emerald green sundress that matched the grassy hills of the city in the night. He took one look at me, his red eyes burning with love and desire, and as I took a step forward his hands were all over. Dinner was scrapped, and I spent the night under him tangled in the sheets, one with love.

After, cuddled together, a sweaty beautiful mess, he adjusted his bare chest against mine. Placing his hand on my hip, drawing shapes with his finger, he whispered to me as I was about to fall asleep,

“So many shades of green, and I was lucky enough to find you.”

“I love you, Sylus.” I mumbled through reality and my dreams.

He smiled against my lips, “I love you too.”

As they say, time flies when you’re having fun. Eventually, the end of summer came around.

I would have to say goodbye. Say goodbye to Sylus, say goodbye to everything.

No more grand entrances into my work, messing with the collar of his red billowy shirt. No more watching his bare back as he’d stretch in the morning, smirking back at me as he’d trace his fingers over marks on his neck and chest. Life would go back to routine, everything in this town staying quiet and still as it once was. Before I knew him.

The day before he had to leave, he swung open the door to my bakery, a wild look in his eyes.

“Come with me.” He said, stern. The look on his face told me I wasn’t getting much of a choice. I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

I raised a brow, “What?”

He walked behind the counter, one hand grabbing my waist, the other going through my hair.

“Come back with me. Stay with me. You can open a bakery there, I’ll help. Everything will be the same. You said it yourself, you wanted out of here, come with me.” His usual put together look was coming undone, his lips pulled tightly together as a silent plea.

He could make it happen, the man had more money than I could ever imagine. Going with him could make all my dreams come true; getting out of this monotonous town, living comfortably, being…happy.

I shook my head, almost trying to convince myself not to listen, “Sylus, you’re not thinking about this.” Hypocritical, I’m not sure I was either.

His brows furrowed, “I have. That's all I’ve done. Now, sweetie, say yes.”

I thought about all the shades of green.

…

“Yes.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #lnds #lnds smut #lnds fluff #lnds angst #sylus love and deepspace #sylus fluff #sylus x mc #love and deep space

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thelcsdaily · 6 months ago

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Parisian Chocolate Cake from Porto's Bakery

This delicious moist cake is a constant favorite. Composed of a smooth chocolate mousse layer with Porto's famous whipped chocolate ganache on top. Crispy pearls made of dark and white chocolate were used to finish. A heavenly creation. Life is too short not to indulge in the rich, decadent flavors from time to time.

"In the childhood memories of every good cook is a large kitchen, a working stove, a cake who cooks and a mom." - Barbara Costikyan

#food #confection #desserts #pastries #sweets #sweet treats #cake #chocolate cake #original photography #my photography #food photography #thelcsdaily #porto's bakery

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sameschmidtdiffname · 1 year ago

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Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark #thg peeta #peeta x reader #peeta x you #peeta x y/n #peeta smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

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roguishcat · 6 months ago

Text

Augustarion Day 6 - Cream

Pairing: the reader (You) x Astarion

Tags: just silliness and fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Excerpt: “Oh, goodie! Someone in need of a rescue,” Astarion whined and threw his arms up dramatically. “What is it with people falling over themselves to get into trouble just so we can play hero time and time again! Let’s just go,” he said with an air of an overtired toddler.

A/N If you want to be on the tag list, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment. ❤️

Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

It started with you craving some pastries. The four of you were making your way through the city when you caught a whiff of something sweet, delicious and so very tempting. You kept on walking at first, because you were on a budget and new armour for Karlach was more important than letting your sweet tooth dictate your purchases. But then your stomach made itself known, to your embarrassment.

Gale smiled and pointed in the direction of the bakery. “Seeing as we are nowhere near Elfsong, how about indulging in some baked goods? I, for one, wouldn’t mind having a sweet butter bun or two.”

Well, that was a different matter entirely! If it wasn’t a senseless purchase but rather something to improve morale, who were you to refuse?

“And I find your blood tastes just a little sweeter if you enjoy yourself, dear,” Astarion whispered into your ear.

“Oooh, I’ve heard about this place!” Karlach pushed the door open, “it’s meant to have the meanest, best damn apple pie in the city!”

Looking around, you wondered why Karlach was excited about the place. The bakery looked like any ordinary bakery except for one detail. It seemed to be suspiciously empty of any people. You listened carefully. There was shouting and thumping coming from the direction of the kitchen. Something seemed off.

“Oh, goodie! Someone in need of a rescue,” Astarion whined and threw his arms up dramatically. “What is it with people falling over themselves to get into trouble just so we can play hero time and time again! Let’s just go,” he said with an air of an overtired toddler.

“We can’t leave!” you frowned, bow at the ready as you took a step in the direction of the commotion, “they might need help!”

“Well, then some other do-gooder is welcome to come by and- hey!”

Ignoring Astarion’s protests, you burst through the kitchen door, the rest following close behind, to be greeted with a most peculiar sight.

Kobolds pranced around the kitchen to the dismay of the baker and a woman who appeared to be his spouse, the latter’s face almost puce as she shouted at the wretched creatures to leave. The kobolds seemed to think that her shouts and the weak, spluttering spells aimed at them were a nice accompaniment to their meal. They mostly ignored the couple and seemed to be quite content to gorge themselves on the pastries and cakes and, cream, cream, cream and more cream! What did not get eaten got carelessly thrown at the floor, the walls and the owners. There was a great big glop of custard on the baker’s cheek and his wife almost slipped in the puddle of jam on the floor.

Astarion doubled over in laughter.

“Oh, this was not what I expected to see but I definitely needed this!”

“Oh hush,” you admonished him, feeling your own lips twitch as you fought a smile. “We have to help them.”

“The kobolds?”

You gave him a deadpan look.

“Right, so how should we go about this one, soldier?” Karlach shouldered her axe with a frown, “can hardly use most of my attacks.”

“Yes, in such close quarters and with this much flour in the air, a single spark will set off an explosion. Most magic might prove too destructive. I doubt that us destroying the building in an effort to drive the kobolds out will be received with thanks,” Gale frowned.

“Perhaps we could try to reason with them?” you suggested weakly. The idea was not without its merit. You did have a somewhat successful chat with the kobold at the Circus of the Last Days.

“Are you proposing to hold a conversation with these base creatures? Oh, I have to see this,” Astarion grinned, giving you a shallow mocking bow and motioning for you to proceed with the entertainment.

That bastard. Sometimes you could not believe that you let him get away with being such an ass.

You cleared your throat loudly, which garnered no reaction from both the battling parties. It took Gale briefly casting a Silence spell on the kobolds for them to realise that you and your companions were even in the kitchen. All inhuman senseless eyes turned to you as the creatures adjusted their stances, clearly seeing your group as a bigger threat than the baker and his wife.

“Right. Can somebody please tell me what is going on?” you motioned at the destruction.

“We give money for treatos!” kobolds screeched, each wanting to be the first to complain.

“One gold piece! It was not enough for all the buns that they demanded from us!” the baker protested loudly.

“You give no treatos, so we take treatos!”

“Oh, and just look at all the damage that you have done!” the baker’s wife lamented, wringing her hands and being quite understandably upset.

“Next time, you remember to give treatos. We give money!” the kobolds defended themselves, tongues flicking out of their mouths, shaking their scaly fists as they shouted about the great injustice that was committed against them.

“So how are you planning to defuse this one, darling?” Astarion leaned closer to you.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?”

“Very much.”

“Any chance you might want to contribute to the conversation?”

“When you are doing so splendidly? I don’t think so.”

The kobolds seemed to have decided that you were not on their side and started gathering whatever buns and cakes that were not destroyed. Their ammunition in their hands, they attacked in quick succession. Karlach and Gale were fortunately out of their range, but you and Astarion found yourself swiftly covered in jam, and cream, and sticky dough. Astarion roughly pulled you down behind an overturned table, the second barrage missing you by an inch as you dropped to the floor.

“Argh, just look at me! Will the horrors never cease!” Astarion flicked a flaky piece off his shoulder and into your face. “This is all your fault, you know! If only you did not have some kind of hero complex, we would have grabbed some cakes and been on our merry way. But noooo, we have to get involved!”

“Oh, shut it,” you hissed, “how could I have known this would happen?”

“Rule of thumb, if you see people in trouble, you walk away!”

“Astarion?”

“Yes?”

“You have jam in your curls.”

The look of pure horror on Astarion’s handsome face was just the revenge you needed.

“Gale! Slow spell!” you commanded, hoping he could still hear you over the cacophony of shrieks and cries.

“On it!”

You heard the incantation and dared peek from behind the table. The kobolds were still on the offensive, but their movements were sluggish, as if the air thickened and they had to fight against it.

“This is your last warning, you little rat bastards! Either you stop this, or we are going to turn your asses to stone and sell you to Popper!”

“Popper? You tell Popper? No tell Popper!”

Apparently, you mentioning the kobold from the Circus of the Last Days did the trick, as he was the law and order when it came to their community in the city. You rubbing shoulders with Popper, the best and the greatest of them all, was reason enough for the kobolds to regret their actions, renounce their fiendish ways, promise to never set foot near the bakery, and hastily make their way out of the kitchen.

Finally, there was silence. Complete blessed silence. Beautiful silence that lasted for a grand total of ten seconds before it was broken.

“Oh, these horrible creatures, I thought they would never leave!” the baker’s wife wiped her eyes as she tried and failed to hold back tears, “However can we thank you?”

“Coin always works best,” Astarion chose that moment to speak up.

“What coin?” the plump woman bawled pitifully, “we didn’t have the chance to sell anything!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shot Astarion a look full of admonishment, “we were glad to help.”

“But of course we were,” Astarion rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “It was a pleasure to be of service,” he mocked and marched out of the room, muttering something derogatory under his breath.

The walk back to Elfsong was uncomfortable and silent. You were hungry, sticky and quite frankly not in the mood to entertain one of Astarion’s moods.

You knew that he was right, in a way. You didn’t have to help out everyone you came across on your journey. You could have looked the other way, turned a blind eye. But that wouldn’t be you. So, he would just have to deal with it!

You loved Astarion, faults and all. But if he berated you every time you chose to do a kind turn and made you feel small and stupid, then perhaps he shouldn’t have chosen to be in a relationship with you. Because you would do anything for Astarion, but you refused to change who you were on the off chance you would get a smidge of approval from him.

When you opened the door to your shared room at first there was complete silence. Everyone was trying and failing to keep a straight face as they looked at the damage done to you and Astarion.

“Oh, shut up!” Astarion shoved past Shadowheart, making sure to leave traces of cream and jam on her as he pushed her out of the way.

“I see you clearly fought a great, formidable foe today,” Lae’zel quipped sarcastically, “at least tell me that you were the victors.”

“Argh, so not in the mood to talk about it! Gale, could you do the talking, please? I just want to wash and sleep,” you grumbled and dropped your bow and arrows near the trunk. You could not wait to get out of your clothes and into a bath.

“Certainly, my friend,” Gale wanted to pat your shoulder, but then decided against it, not wanting to get whatever was on you onto himself.

It took several changes of water for you to scrub yourself clean. You were bone tired and prickly when you finally settled in, choosing to sleep alone rather than in the bed you and Astarion have been sharing pretty much ever since you started staying at Elfsong. You heard his annoyed huff from across the room and squeezed your eyes shut. If Astarion had a problem with your sleeping arrangements, he could shove his complaints in any orifice of his choosing. In spite of being worn out, it took hours of tossing and turning for you to finally drift off.

You were woken up by sunlight spilling into your eyes through the gap in the curtains. Rising and groggily rubbing your eyes, you noticed that your living quarters were empty, the others apparently deciding to let you sleep in and having gone out hours ago. You flopped back onto the bed and stretched out your sore muscles. Perhaps yesterday’s humiliating display was worth it if you were given the chance to have a lazy morning. But then you remembered your fight with Astarion, and your smile turned sour.

You heard the door open and shut as the subject of your musings came into the room. You quickly turned away and pretended to be resting, not really sure what to say to him. You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge.

“Darling, I know that you are awake. Will you look at me, please? I come bearing treatos.”

And he did. He held a tray laden with butter buns, delicate little pastries, fruit tarts and an assortment of other mouthwatering, freshly baked delights.

“The baker sends his regards and says that you, as his favourite customer, can be assured to have a discount for life. So, dig in my sweet! I got you the coffee you like to go with it.”

You sat up and looked at your vampire, worrying your bottom lip with blunt teeth. Cautiously, as if not unsure whether you will accept the gesture, Astarion took your hand into his, bringing your fingers to his lips and kissing them gently.

“I think an apology is in order. I- I do get annoyed that you spend your energies on creatures who, quite frankly, don’t deserve you giving them a moment of your precious time. Someone odd and pathetic that you pick up on the roadside and decide their cause is worth fighting for.”

He put a cream puff onto a plate and handed it to you, long cool fingers brushing against yours. You took a tentative bite without breaking eye contact. It was lovely, not too sweet, delicious and flaky. Astarion brushed a speck off your lips with his thumb and cupped your cheek tenderly.

“But then I realised that at some point I too was an oddity that you chose not to leave behind. A creature who did not deserve your protection, just seeking to take advantage of your kind nature at the time. Recognising your worth and how truly wonderful you are as I got to know you.”

You felt something warm and pleasant bloom in your chest, Astarion’s words making your shoulders relax as you all but melted into his touch.

“So, no matter how aggravating you may be, and how you drive me up the wall with your selflessness, I do not want you to change. You are perfect in every way.”

And then you thew your arms around your vampire and kissed him, all the worries and troubles seeming insignificant as you got lost in each other’s touch. You felt Astarion release a shuddering breath against your lips as he deepened the kiss.

All was well in his world. You were his and he wanted you, faults and all. Even if that meant that he had to spend half the evening getting various foodstuffs out of his curls.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfic #astarion fanfiction #fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #astarion x reader #augustarion #roguish cat

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fr33time · 2 months ago

Note

The ghouls fav ice cream flavor! Or just their fav desserts?

A/N: Hiii I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this! I decided to do favourite desserts if that’s alright, there’s so much variety in desserts. I’ll be splitting this up into different posts, Frostheim and Vagastrom ghouls releasing first! I have dessert ideas set up for all of the characters. I got stressed out releasing all of the ghouls at once so I decided to split up all of the ghouls for my own sanity. Enjoy these headcanons and have a lovely Friday, sending love!

♡Ghouls Favourite Desserts (Pt. 1)

Featuring: The frostheim and vagastrom ghouls ☆

Divider credits: @thecutestgrotto

Genre: headcanons

See: Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Requesting rules here!

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

☆Jin

Tiramisu - Jin grew up in a fancy household so I can only imagine how much desserts he’s had access to. Out of all of them, he loves tiramisu. Not only does it look beautiful in presentation, but it’s ice cold and has a mixture of nice tastes. He doesn’t ask for it often, and he wouldn’t be caught dead eating sweets around Tohma but he enjoys it the most.

☆Tohma

Danish - Whenever Tohma has tea, he always pairs it with a danish. The jam flavour depends on his mood, but he prefers lemon flavour above all else. It’s easy to eat, he hates cleaning up crumby messes because they get everywhere like sand. The school campus doesn’t sell many sweets, nevermind danishes so he needs to take out an R&R permit to get a box of them from a reputable bakery.

☆Kaito

Taiyaki - Kaito grew up with his grandma and Taiyaki is his favourite since it was what his grandma would buy him when he was little. He thinks that it’s a classic and since there’s many different fillings you can have, it’s perfect for a treat. It reminds him of home and the time before he had to fear for his life on missions, when he’s passing by a street vendor he makes sure to buy one.

☆Lucas

Trifle - Trifle is pretty popular in the UK and Lucas used to have it after dinner. It also reminds him of home and ever since he left he’s a bit sad that they don’t seem to have it anywhere. It’s sweet, refreshing, and he misses sharing it with people, he asks a bakery if they can make it and once the order is done he gets an R&R permit to grab it. Once he gets it he gathers the MC, Jin, Tohma, and Kaito so everyone can share it.

☆Alan

Cookies - Alan didn’t have many sweets or desserts growing up but if you asked him, he would say that he likes cookies. They are very convenient to get and if he’s lucky, they won’t be an absolute mess. He likes cookies that are on the chewy side due to the fact that it won’t crumble after one bite. He gets very annoyed when it falls apart, but other than that he won’t go out of his way to get sweets, although it’s a nice surprise if someone brings them to him.

☆Leo

frozen yogurt - Leo loves spicy things but he doesn’t mind indulging in some sweet frozen yogurt time to time. It’s delicious and totally photogenic for his social media pages, adding cute candies to make it cuter. He even started a series on rating frozen yogurts at different locations in tokyo. Time to time he can’t stand some of the yogurt flavours that he reviews so he adds spice to it to make it bearable.

☆Shohei

pudding - Sho finds pudding very convenient to make and he also finds that you can’t go wrong with it. It’s a small snack to enjoy and bonnie seems to love it so it’s an excuse to make it all the time. He excels at cooking but the only thing he can bake is pudding, he makes a large batch and puts them in small containers to eat on different days.

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#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #fluff #tokyo debunker headcanons #tkdb #headcanon #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #lucas errant #kaito fuji #alan mido #leo kurosagi #shohei haizono

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wroteclassicaly · 9 months ago

Text

A/N: I’ve missed this man. I hope you like? Next part will have some saucy little smut. Just trying this out first, also for self-indulgence.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, language, mentions of injuries, self-esteem issues, mentions depression and body image.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Plus size!Reader

Eddie Munson loves his new band of misfit friends, an extended family that has welcomed him and Wayne in with open arms. Hell, he’s even getting along with Harrington, Wheeler is tutoring him, and everyone else just understands. And then, well… Then there is you. He’s never seen someone so in tune with the needs of others without ever considering herself. Someone who purposely pushes herself on the world’s hottest back burner to avoid opening up and letting anyone truly see what’s going on… Behind incredibly beautiful eyes, if Eddie does say so himself.

It’s been over a year since shit unfolded with Vecna. They lost, he died for a little while, the apocalypse reigned down on the town and then he wasn’t dead anymore. Memories are vague, but most things he does remember. And when he wakes up tangled in his bedsheets, scars aching with prickles of phantom pains - you are the only person that he calls. A lot of times he ends up singing you to sleep, but it’s not without you always making sure he’s calmed and okay first.

It was a bond that grew since you began caring for him when he came back with memories. He’s lost track of days spent together, lunches shared, a graduation a long time coming, complete with a party he never expected to have. He isn’t sure when it became a deeper feeling than he’s ever known, one that scared him so damn bad he avoided you for days and began physically ill because of it. If Eddie Munson has to pick one moment, it was probably that day you walked into his Uncle’s living room, (a cookout happening in his yard with Steve and Wayne at the grill outside) your beautiful curves on display, a cherry sundress hitting you in all the right places, and some strappy red sandals adorning your feet. You wore a glowing smile beneath your bright red lipstick, energy matching with Henderson’s as you entertained his enthusiasm for Hellfire’s next campaign.

You didn’t have a clue of what you were talking about, but it didn’t deter you in the slightest. You were passionate about writing, you enjoyed Sci-Fi and fantasy, which meant you had to be the one who helped Dustin create new characters. He knew the game, you had some extra creativity to lend. You’d high fived Dustin, stealing his pen to jot down your scribbled suggestions on his spiral sheet. Eddie was a goner.

And now… Here you are, at his house, on a Friday night. You didn’t have plans, you didn’t make a date - nothing. You did what you normally do and called him up, accepting his invite to hang out all evening. He’d made sure to be off work by a steady time, picking up your favorite bakery cookies at the store on the way home, lingering over flowers that he was sure he should get, but knew it would probably cross a line if he did so. Eddie doesn’t want you to feel spooked, or even anything remotely close to uncomfortable around him.

You’re sitting above him, cross-legged on his bed as he rests with bent knees at the foot, your overalls bagging out at the sides to show your crop top with little lemons and daisies printed all over it, and the most delicious, overflowing curves Edward Munson has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. He’s got a pair of your maroon sweats tied down, extremely loose on his narrow hips, and one of your decorative character shirts with a picture of Eeyore plastered front and center, hanging across his torso. You might not be able to wear his clothes, but he can wear yours, and Eddie would be stupid to say he doesn’t notice your eyes crossing a little whenever he steps into some of your ensembles. You’ve been chattering away at the TV, giving your input on Friday the 13th part 2, whilst being blissfully unaware of sending Eddie to heaven with your pink brush running through his freshly washed curls, your neon yellow painted nails scratching at his scalp. He’s like a mother fucking purring cat in your grasp.

“So, anyways… I can’t figure out if Muffin survived or if that was her in the woods. And did Paul really make it out too, or was Jenny imagining shit?”

Eddie smirks, tilting his head back to look at the curvature of your physique, the contours of your face - upside down (no pun intended). “Haven’t you seen this movie, like, a thousand times before?”

You have a mock look of offense. “Hmph.” He doesn’t like what it brings, because you can tease, but please - for the love of all things unholy - don’t stop brushing his hair.

“Hey, hey. Why’d you quit?” He’s pouting, it’s rather cute. One tattooed arm, decorated with scars - elongates, ring clad hand seeking out your wrist. Anything to get you into motion again.

“You know that you can brush your own hair, Eddie.” You’re melting at those fluttering lashes draped over an enriching, smooth chocolate pair of irises. And his mouth… Fuck.

“But it’s so much better when you do it, sweetheart. Pleaseeeee? Forgive me for questioning your brilliant questions!?”

You make a good show of it, tossing the brush out of your hand, it landing a pile of Eddie’s clothes in an unpacked hamper. They’re clean, but he’d rather wear yours. He gasps, shifting positions so quick that you think Steve must’ve Ninja-fied him. He’s got you by your wrists, the cool of his rings tracking across your arms as they follow warm palms, and dip under your pits to gain leverage - easing you forward into a heap onto the carpeting with him. “Freak attack!” He’s gleeful, tickling your denim clad sides (well, at least where he pretends he can’t see the overspilling flesh more closely now).

He smells good, like that familiar Old Spice wash and whatever shampoo he’s lathered his curls with. He’s hovering, he’s incredibly warm, he’s safe, he’s Eddie. Someone you didn’t know you needed until he appeared and retrieved his piece of your heart, snapping it into the place where all the people you love have their own shards. Hmm, not entirely though. If you could describe it, it’s as if they make up the outside lining, keeping the inside of your heart reserved for a more… Different, private type of love, that only Eddie Munson seems to have found.

“Should spank your ass with that thing for stoppin’,” he starts, interrupting your reverie, moving to shut his mouth when he realizes he crossed a line. Maybe? It’s there, your eyes flicker over his lips, your hidden reaction dancing behind your pretty little temple - he sees, giving him a fraction of hope. He isn’t used to this…

You jolt, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, “Like that would be a punishment,” you finish, effectively crossing that line for him.

Both of you remain silent, your sweet perfume making him lose focus. What he thinks he should do and what he wants to do, those are two very different battles raging inside.

// Eat me paragraph //

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Writing Notes: Anthropomorphic & Zoomorphic Sweets

EXAMPLES

Animal crackers ⚜ Chocolate Easter bunnies

Decoratively iced animal-shaped cookies

Gingerbread man cookies ⚜ Gummy bears

In Spain, many sweets are nominally anthropomorphic, their names referring to states of mind. These can be categorized as follows:

Signs of melancholy: lágrimas (tears); suspiros de novicia (novice’s sighs), light airy meringues; very tiny paciencias (patiences)

States of mind: melindres (apprehension), picardías (cunning), alegrías (joy), regañadas (scolding), fanfarrona (boastful)

Natural states: dormidos (asleep), tontas (silly), listas (clever)

Addictive attitude: borrachos (drunks)

Other Spanish sweets are more or less realistic reproductions of bodies or body parts, such as:

cabello de ángel (angel hair) ⚜ trenzas (braids) ⚜ orejas (ears)

bocas (mouths) ⚜ dentaduras (false teeth) ⚜ bigotes (mustaches)

labios (lips) ⚜ lenguas (tongues) ⚜ gargantas (throats)

corazones (hearts) ⚜ brazos de gitano (gypsy’s arms)

dedos (fingers) ⚜ tetas de novicia (novice’s tits)

barrigas de fraile (friar’s bellies) ⚜ tripas de monja (nun’s innards)

chochos de vieja (old lady’s vulvas) ⚜ penes (penises)

huesos de santo (saint’s bones)

anthropomorphic & zoomorphic sweets

Have, over the centuries, been prepared, bought, and exchanged as presents that add significance to convivial, pagan, and religious celebrations.

A wealth of creatures, or parts of their bodies, convey symbolism from the most remote, even pre-totemic times.

These sweets are highly aesthetic, as well as delicious and diverse in their ingredients, techniques, intentionality, and meanings.

Remind us who we are and where we come from.

These edible metaphors, vestigial markers of identity often closely tied to festivities, combine tradition with innovation and encourage collective indulgence, as if to prove the truth of the adage “You become what you eat and survive from what you sell.”

Whether homemade or bought from convents, stalls in fairs and markets, or from bakeries and cake shops, these ritual sweets offer an opportunity for families and friends to gather and celebrate.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#food #writing reference #writeblr #langblr #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #poetry #words #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #literature #writing inspiration #creative writing #lit #sweets #dessert #dark academia #petrus van schendel #writing resources

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jacky93sims · 1 year ago

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Deliciously Indulgent Bakery - Birthday and Wedding Cakes Functional for The Sims 2

As requested, I made functional these two cakeS by Veranka, low poly. They have their own slices, found in Party Section.

DOWNLOAD BIRTHDAY CAKE DOWNLOAD WEDDING CAKE

#sims 2 cc #the sims 2 #sims 2 download #ts2 #the sims 2 cc #ts2 download #food #cute #sims 2 food #sims 2 objects #functional #wedding cake #birthday cake #buy mode #party #birthday party #wedding party

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patrycarro · 17 days ago

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TS3 - Blue Haven Bakery (No CC)

ENG:

Blue Haven is more than just a bakery—it’s a place where unforgettable moments come to life. The inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air all day long, creating the perfect setting to relax and indulge your loved ones with our handcrafted sweets. Every treat is made with fresh, locally sourced ingredients, delivering authentic flavors of the highest quality. At Blue Haven, every visit turns into a sweet and lasting memory.

Features:

Lot type: Community, visitors allowed

Lot size: 30x20

Furnished lot value: 101.304 §

Unfurnished lot value: 51.793 §

Packs used in this build: EP02, EP04, EP05, EP06, EP08, EP09

Requirements:

Deliciously Indulgent Bakery from the store.

Terms and conditions:

DO NOT claim my creations as your own.

If you want to use any of my builds in your custom world or save file, you are allowed to do so, BUT make sure to credit me as the original creator.

DO NOT re-upload my content under any circumstances; share it with your friends using my own links.

If you experience any issues, let me know and I’ll try to fix it as soon as possible.

Download it here. (Early access until 02/01/2025) 🤍

SPA:

Blue Haven es más que una pastelería: es un lugar donde se crean momentos inolvidables. Aquí, el aroma a café recién hecho te acompaña a cualquier hora del día, mientras disfrutas de la calidez del ambiente y consientes a los tuyos con nuestros dulces. Cada una de nuestras delicias está elaborada con ingredientes frescos y de origen local, garantizando sabores auténticos y de la más alta calidad. En Blue Haven, cada visita se transforma en un dulce recuerdo.

Características:

Tipo de solar: Comunitario, se permiten visitantes

Tamaño del solar: 30x20

Valor del solar amueblado: 101.304 §

Valor del solar sin amueblar: 51.793 §

Packs utilizados en esta construcción: EP02, EP04, EP05, EP06, EP08, EP09

Requisitos:

Panadería y pastelería Delicias Decadentistas de la tienda.

Términos y condiciones:

NO proclames mis creaciones como tuyas.

Si quieres usar alguna de mis construcciones en tu mundo personalizado o save file, tienes permitido hacerlo, PERO deja claro que yo soy su creadora original.

NO resubas mi contenido bajo ninguna excepción; compártelo con tus conocidos usando mis propios enlaces.

Si experimentas algún problema, házmelo saber e intentaré solucionarlo lo antes posible.

Descárgalo aquí. (Acceso anticipado hasta 01/02/2025) 🤍

#no cc build #sims 3 build #sims 3 builds #sims 3 download #the sims 3 #ts3 #ts3 build #s3house #sims 3 #sims 3 lots #cafeterías y pastelerías #30x20

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2-dsimp · 10 months ago

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——|———-|———|———

Yandere hitman squad

Introducing the Enforcer

——|———-|———|———

Yandere Enforcer that is the right hand man of the boss and bears a striking resemblance to a lion that is benevolent but also ferocious. He is the second tallest compared to the torturer standing at 6’ 5 having a lean muscled build littered with battle scars.

Yandere Enforcer Who is a rowdy impulsive individual that’s a bit rough on the edges with his intimidating looks and scruffy voice but in reality is just a giant ball of fluffy joy that can never sit still and always has to be on the move with his mind racing over peculiar tasks such as chatting up with random strangers, attending multiple activities, and picking up the Boss’s slack.

Yandere Enforcer That can’t get you out his mind from the current incident being replayed in his mind repeatedly, remembering you, as the cute firecracker who maced him in the dark alleyways when he was just tryna return your wallet that had fallen out from your pocket when you were leaving from the club after you were ditched by your friends who went to go hop another bar.

Yandere Enforcer who’s surprised at the attempted assault which fails because you were to short to aim it at him correctly and only messed up his pants leg but nonetheless laughs heartily at the misunderstanding and at the lil firecracker who’s embarrassed at their actions and blurts out many apologies and words of gratitude for his act of kindness.

Yandere Enforcer who finds your timid nature to be endearing and adorable enough for him to want to devour you. As he watched you struggle to formulate words in order to formally invite him to your apartment so you can offer him some bakery goods from the bakery shop that you owned as an apology gift.

Yandere Enforcer who’s fiery eyes lit up in childish excitement at the prospect of getting bakery sweets and breads, and at the fact that you owned a bakery to which he immediately asked you if he can drop by sometimes and when he received permission he gave you a big bear hug lifting you up into the air as if you weighed like a piece of paper. And that’s how you got him hooked.

Yandere Enforcer who gets very passionate when it comes to timid darling as they say a way to man’s heart is through his stomach and because you kept on indulging him in his gluttonous habits he’s now grown a taste for you and is just completely obsessed with his sweet baker. And since the Torturer is also an excellent baker one day he’d love to see the both of y’all collab and make some delicious food for him to eat.

Yandere Enforcer Who will always try to be around you wether it’ll be coincidentally bumping into you on the streets are just calling you frequently to see if you wanna go on adventures with him and will go to any lengths just to make you smile. He’ll be your best friend and lover making sure to always think about you and what you’re doing and how he can rock your world 24/7.

Yandere Enforcer Who unlike some of the others is not as prone to using violence as a means to keep his competitors at bay. Since his physical build and high levels of confidence he displays speaks for himself, I mean who’d wanna try a man who’s built like Tarzan and has the confidence of Gaston? But when it comes down to an unavoidable situation he will “accidentally” critically harm his rivals and turn them into a cripple for the rest of their lives. It was very unfortunate that your “friends” had gotten into an “fatal car accident” a few days later…

Yandere Enforcer that will be your exclusive guard dog being your best friend while also you shielding away from the world that dares to harm you, his little firecracker.

#the Enforcer #yandere hitman x reader #yandere hitman #yandere hitman squad #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere blurb #yandere content #yandere concept #yandere x y/n #yandere male #male yandere #yanderecore #yandere scenarios #yandere enforcer

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strwbnnie · 2 years ago

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Oh nothing, just thinkin about a cute, chubby little babe whose new fav hobby is baking. Do you like sweets? Sure, but that’s not why you started.

No, it was the look on your husband’s face whenever you’d go to the bakery to pick up fresh bread. He’d stare at the dessert case like a kid in a candy store, begging you to let him get one as if he wasn’t a grown man making his own salary and now he makes that same face whenever you offer him first pick of your own delicious, freshly baked pastries.

This time is no different, you hear the click of the front door shutting, he’s walking into your quaint little kitchen with a news paper tucked in his axillary and his briefcase in hand. He’s dropping his case near the threshold and tossing the paper onto the table, footing over to you and placing an earnest kiss on your lips before flipping on the sink’s faucet to wash his hands.

Your husband is old fashioned, no social life and not many hobbies due to his demanding work schedule. He says you’re too pretty to work a job so he works six days a week, every single week, in order to give you your soft life.

You carry not a worry in the world except whether or not you may have over starched his jeans or added too much salt in your latest confection. Of course these little desserts and things don’t equate to all that he does but it’s literally the least you can do to thank him. He swears he doesn’t deserve it, coming home to your love and a hot meal everyday is more than enough but you tell him otherwise every single time.

“Made ya somethin.”

He’s drying his hands with a dish towel, turning around to see what delectable treat you’ve gone out of your way to make for him today.

Bright eyes lighting up as you present him with a display tray of heart shaped puff pastries, lightly dusted with powdered sugar, split down the middle and filled with a tall dollop of a blush-pink colored cream. He’s pulling the chair out, pulling up the legs of his trousers and plopping down in the seat, his legs spread wide. Today was long, or at least it felt long, but even a second away from you is just too damn long. But, it’s over and now he gets to indulge in a sweet treat and hopefully his sweet wife later on.

He goes to grab one and his pinky finger catches some of the cream from another, those big hands of his are never really ideal when it comes to grabbing such delicate, tiny things. He admired your creation, from the flaky layers of the puff pastry to the little specks of red littered throughout the cream.

“Strawberry cream?”

“Mhm.”

He’s so attentive, it melts your lil heart. “But they’re not in season.”

“I got the freeze dried ones from the store and a tiny bit of strawberry flavoring. Tastes just as good, I promise.” It tastes the same to you, but who knows if it’d taste good to him, his favorite fruit is strawberries after all.

He goes in for his first bite and he’s not surprised when a tiny little bit of the cream oozes out and plops onto his white collared shirt—some of your pastries do tend to get messy sometimes, his face and his laundry have come to find out.

But it’s no big deal, he just swipes it up with that same pinky & sucks it off like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

He let’s out the sweetest groan—one that has his cute little wife squeezing her thighs together, trying to keep your cool as you wait for him to finish.

“Damn that’s tasty.”

“Yeah?” You gush, the way he closes his eyes and tosses his head back has you damn near squealing.

“Mhm, but everything you make is delicious.”

Gosh, when he gives you that dazzling smile you almost melt. You rarely ever heard your husband swear, at least not outside of the bedroom, and you have to admit it’s so damn sexy.

“Reallyyyy?” You drag.

“Yeahhhh.” He mocks your tone, free hand gently grasping your jaw to pull you in for another quick kiss.

Two bites. Two bites is all it takes for him to finish the dainty little pastry before he’s reaching for another.

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head when you pop his hand and push the tray away.

“You’ll ruin your dinner.”

He’s not sure what you’re cooking, maybe a roast or stew and it smells hearty and delicious. He’s sure one more little cream puff won’t ruin his appetite.

“Babyyy.” Here he goes with the damned whining. “Just one more.”

He pulls you closer by the hem of your pretty pink gingham lace trimmed apron, the scraping of the chair’s legs against the wooden flooring harsh and loud as he pushes back to give you some room. A pat of his thigh has you raising your leg, throwing it over both of his and straddling his lap.

“I just wanted you to try one! You can have more for dessert after dinner.”

“I tried it and I liked it. I want another.”

It’s a little while before you feel it—him moving his hips back and forth, grinding the hard bulge in his slacks against your panty-covered cunt. He thinks he’s sooo slick, giving you those eyes, that look—you know the one.

“Please baby, you don’t mind dessert before dinner when it’s you I’m eating, let’s keep things fair, my love.”

Your mouth goes ajar for a quick second, opening and closing in speechlessness before a heavy gasp escapes. You don’t have a comeback and your adorable little pout is no match for his fiery gaze and quick tongue, determined to get his second treat. You’re folding almost immediately, sighing as you reach back to grab another cream puff.

“Okay, but only one more.”

This is soooo Rengoku coded but you can insert any of your favs really 😁

*this wasn’t even supposed to be this long 😭

#black reader #black fem reader #anime x black!reader #black!reader #black coded reader #black!y/n #demon slayer x black reader #kny x black reader #mha x black reader #black coded #black!fem!reader #aot x black reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x black reader #kyojuro x black reader #HentyeHottie🌸

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waight-gain · 5 days ago

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Chapter 4: Discovery

Mike and Sam

This whole story is filled with more NSFW scenes than my previous

Mike stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand, as he watched Sam take a deep breath and step onto the scale. The morning sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the slightest curve of Sam's belly, and Mike couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement.

The number on the scale seemed to freeze for a moment, before Sam's eyes widened, and a small smile played on his lips. "Looks like I've put on a few pounds," he said, trying to sound casual, but not quite succeeding.

Mike feigned surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. "Oh no, babe! You're going to turn into a sumo wrestler! We need to work off a few calories." He winked at Sam, the glint in his eye implying that he had a far more enjoyable form of "exercise" in mind.

Sam chuckled, still looking pleased with himself as he hopped off the scale. "I don't know, Mike. I kind of like the way I look. And it's not like I'm unhealthy or anything."

Mike snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. "You're looking good, and that's all that matters. Besides, who needs a six-pack when you can have a keg?" He winked again, enjoying the way Sam's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Shut up," Sam responded, trying to hide his own enjoyment and arousal at the teasing.

Mike leaned against the doorway, watching as Sam sifted through his wardrobe, finally pulling out an old college t-shirt. The shirt was a faded band logo, and Mike remembered Sam wearing it all the time back in school. But as Sam pulled it over his head, Mike couldn't help but notice the way it stretched across his broader chest, accentuating every new curve of his body.

Sam grinned, catching Mike's eye in the mirror. "See, my college clothes still fit," he said, sucking in a breath as he worked to get the shirt to cooperate.

Mike's eyes were glued to the sight, his arousal growing as he took in the way the shirt hugged Sam's body. As Sam turned to head for the closet, Mike's gaze fell on the tight line of his underwear, highlighting the thickness of his thighs and the gentle swell of his butt. Mike's mind already racing with all the ways he could help Sam indulge and grow even more.

He was so caught up in the sight that he almost missed Sam's muttered comment about maybe needing to try a different laundry detergent, most of his clothes seemed to be shrinking. Mike just chuckled, knowing that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Mike's eyes sparkled with mischievous intent as he watched Sam walk out of the room, oblivious to the changes that were about to take place. He smiled to himself, thinking about the little "adjustments" he had been making to Sam's diet over the past few days. But it was time to take things to the next level.

Having already upgraded from 2% to whole milk, he opted to escalate further, replacing it with heavy cream, aware that this switch would significantly amplify the caloric content of Sam's daily diet. Specifically, incorporating heavy cream into an array of baked delights that Sam had persistently devoured in Mike's absence at the bakery. Mike continued to deliberately leave an assortment of calorie-rich treats, strategically positioned for Sam to discover and indulge in.

Feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation, Mike began to prep for the day's meals, using exclusively gainer recipes he had been experimenting with. He was making a mental note to pick up some of Sam's favorite snacks later that day, the ones that were notoriously high in calories.

As he busied himself in the kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, enticing Sam's senses and building his anticipation for the meal to come. Mike had never been much of a chef, but he had quickly become an expert in creating dishes that were both delicious and calorie-dense.

Sam walked back into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the cookies cooling on the counter. "Mmm, cookies? You're speaking my language now," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Mike grinned, knowing that he had set the stage for a day of indulgence and overeating. "Just a little something I whipped up," he said, handing Sam a still-warm cookie. "I figured you could use a treat to tide you over until lunch."

Sam took a bite of the cookie, his eyes widening in delight as the flavors and textures exploded in his mouth. As Sam savored the cookie, Mike began to prepare lunch, expertly juggling multiple pots and pans on the stovetop. The aroma of sizzling meat and steaming vegetables filled the air, making Sam's stomach growl with anticipation. He took another bite of the cookie, feeling the crumbs dissolve in his mouth, and then reached for a glass of heavy cream to wash it down.

The cream was rich and velvety, coating Sam's tongue and the roof of his mouth. He closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as the flavors mingled on his palate. Mike smiled, watching Sam indulge in the creamy treat.

With lunch almost ready, Mike called out to Sam, "Hey, why don't you take a seat at the table? I've got a special surprise for you." Sam's eyes lit up, and he eagerly made his way to the table, his stomach rumbling with anticipation. Mike had carefully set the table, placing a large, ornate plate in the center. On the plate was a feast of gainer-friendly dishes, each one designed to tantalize Sam's senses and fuel his weight gain.

Sam's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. "Wow, Mike. This is…incredible," he stammered, his voice filled with awe.

Mike grinned, feeling a surge of pride at Sam's reaction. "I thought you might like it. I've been working on some new recipes, and I wanted to try them out on you."

Sam's eyes darted between the dishes, each one more enticing than the last. "You've really outdone yourself," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Mike beamed, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. "I'm glad you like it. Now, let's eat," he said, gesturing for Sam to take a seat.

Sam eagerly sat down, his eyes never leaving the food. Mike served each dish with care, explaining the ingredients and the preparation process. Sam listened attentively, his stomach growling with anticipation. As they ate, Mike watched Sam's body respond to the food, his belly expanding slightly with each bite. Sam's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and he moaned softly as he savored each mouthful.

Mike's heart swelled with love and desire as he watched Sam indulge in the meal. He reached out, gently tracing the curve of Sam's expanding waistline with his fingers. Sam leaned into the touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. As they finished their meal, Mike leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. He had always loved watching Sam eat, but today had been something special. He had seen the pleasure in Sam's eyes, the way his body responded to the food, and he knew that this was what they both wanted.

With every bite, Sam's eyes rolled back in sheer pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he savored the flavors. Mike watched with an unspoken intensity, his heart beating faster in response to the sight. He could see the effect his cooking was having on Sam, and it fueled his own desire.

"More?" Sam murmured, his eyes pleading. Mike simply nodded, as he brought out a platter of assorted pastries, their glossy icing and flaky crusts beckoning Sam like sirens.

Sam's hands shook slightly as he reached for a pastry, his eyes fixed on the desserts as if they were the key to a hidden treasure. He took a bite, moaning softly as the sugary sweetness coated his tongue. Mike smiled, watching the way Sam's eyes fluttered closed in delight, his body responding to the sensations.

As the meal continued, the room filled with the sounds of soft moans and the rustling of food wrappers. The air was thick with desire, the scent of pastry and cream heavy in the air. Mike couldn't help but reach out, his hand hovering over Sam's thigh, his fingers itching to trace the expanding curves.

Sam leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering open to meet Mike's. "More, Mike," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. Mike's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a hungry smile.

With a swift motion, Mike stood and moved to the kitchen, returning with a tray laden with an assortment of ice creams and chocolates. Sam's eyes widened as he took in the sight, his breath hitching in anticipation. Mike set the tray on the table, his fingers tracing the curve of Sam's waist as he moved past him.

Sam's eyes followed Mike's every movement, his body trembling with desire. Mike poured a generous scoop of ice cream into a bowl, the sound of it hitting the ceramic causing Sam to shiver. Mike brought the bowl to Sam, his eyes locked with Sam's as he fed him the first bite.

Sam moaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the rich, creamy texture of the ice cream. Mike watched, his heart pounding in his chest as he fed Sam another spoonful. This continued for what felt like hours, the room filled with the sounds of soft moans and the clinking of spoons against the bowls.

As the meal came to an end, Sam's body was a mass of soft curves, his belly round and full. His eyes were heavy with satisfaction, his body sated but still craving more. Mike leaned in, his lips brushing against Sam's ear as he whispered, "Next time, I'll make more pastries for dessert."

Sam's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with Mike's. "I can't wait," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Without a word, Mike stepped closer, pressing his body against Sam's. The weight differential was significant, but Mike's height and lean muscle dominated Sam. He wrapped his arms around Sam's back, their bodies melded together in a dance born of intimacy and love. Mike's heart pounded in his chest, his breath hitching in his throat as he whispered, "I love you, Sam. I love every inch of you."

Sam's breath hitched as Mike's fingers trailed along his skin, tracing the paths of his recent weight gain. Mike gently caressed Sam's stomach, his fingers working their way lower, before finally finding the zipper of Sam's shorts. He unzipped them with deliberate intent, pushing them down and off Sam's hips, exposing the ripe expanse of Sam's thighs and the firm, round cheeks of his ass.

Sam's moans grew louder, his body trembling as Mike continued his exploration, his hands roaming every inch of Sam's expanded form. Mike nuzzled against Sam, his breath hot against his skin.

Sam's eyes closed, his breath hitching as he nodded in agreement. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the pressure building with each passing second.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, Sam's eyes began to narrow, a hint of curiosity sparking within them. "Mike, can I ask you something?" he said, his voice low and shaky.

Mike's fingers continued to trace the curves of Sam's belly, his touch gentle and soothing. "Of course, baby. What's on your mind?"

Sam's gaze drifted away, his eyes focusing on some point in the distance. "When did you…I mean, how did you know about my…. Thing? About wanting to gain weight?"

Mike's smile was slow and seductive, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, Sam. You're so adorable when you're oblivious. I've been encouraging you to eat more and more for weeks now. I've been bringing home your favorite pastries, making you those decadent desserts…I've even been experimenting with new recipes to tempt your sweet tooth."

Sam's eyes snapped back to Mike's, a look of surprise and realization dawning on his face. "You mean…you've been doing it on purpose? You've been encouraging it?"

Mike's laughter was low and husky, his chest vibrating with the sound. "Oh, baby. I want to see you grow. I want to see you happy and content, with a belly full of sweets and a heart full of joy. You're so beautiful to me, Sam. Every curve, every inch of you is perfect."

Sam's face flushed, his eyes dropping to his lap. "But…but are you sure? I mean, I'm getting pretty big. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

Mike's fingers tightened around Sam's waist, his touch possessive and reassuring. "I'm more than okay with it, Sam. I'm thrilled. I love watching you eat, watching you indulge in your desires. I love seeing the way your body changes, the way your skin stretches and your curves grow."

Sam's eyes fluttered back to Mike's, a look of wonder and adoration on his face. "But… it's so weird… I…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mike's smile was radiant, his eyes shining with love and desire. "I love you, Sam. And I'll keep feeding you, keep encouraging you to grow, as long as you want me to."

"So, are you happy? Does this turn you on?" Mike asked, sliding closer to Sam and running his hand over his growing belly.

Sam gasped at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed. He could feel the heat emanating from Mike's fingers, and it was almost too much to handle. "Yes," he whimpered, pressing his body against Mike's.

Mike's laughter was low and seductive. "Oh, I know how to push your buttons, all right," he purred, nipping gently at Sam's neck. "And I plan to continue doing so. Just keep pretending like you're oblivious, and let me take care of the rest."

Sam shivered, his whole body tingling at Mike's touch. He couldn't believe how turned on he was by this newfound power dynamic. It was as if Mike had unlocked a part of him he didn't even know existed. With a contented sigh, Sam leaned into Mike, ready for whatever came next.

Mike leaned in, his lips brushing against Sam's ear, his voice coming out deep and passionate, "Oh, Sam you've really outdone yourself tonight," Mike whispered, as he traced the curves of Sam's bloated belly. "I can't believe you managed to finish that entire cake all by yourself."

Sam's breath hitched, his body trembling with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. "I…I couldn't help myself," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was just so delicious."

Mike's fingers traced the soft, plump flesh, his touch gentle yet firm. "You've always had a sweet tooth, my little gainer," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Remember when you used to be a twink, all skin and bones? Now look at you, all soft and round." Sam's arms wrapped around Mike's neck, his body pressing against him.

Mike's hands roamed, tracing the landscape of Sam's belly. The soft, plump curves under his fingers were a symphony of sensations, each touch eliciting a soft moan from Sam, his body arching into Mike's touch with a fervor that spoke volumes of his desire.

Mike's fingers danced lower, his touch lingering at the waistband of Sam's pants, teasing the skin just above the elastic of his underwear. Sam's breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation, with a gentle tug, Mike pulled Sam's shirt off, revealing a rounded, bloated belly, the skin stretched taut over the swelling contours. The sight was a feast for Mike's eyes, his gaze lingering on the soft, jiggling flesh, the creases that had begun to form.

Mike's fingers traced these lines, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he were mapping out the terrain of a new world. The sight of Sam's body, the evidence of his dedication to his desires, filled Mike with a sense of pride and admiration.

Mike's touch became more insistent, his hands squeezing the soft, plump flesh of Sam's thighs, his breath hot against Sam's ear as he whispered words of encouragement, of desire, of love as he thrust his hips against Sam.

Sam's breath was coming in shallow, gasping breaths, his body trembling with desire, and Mike couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as he watched Sam respond to his touch. Ripping Sam's underwear off, his lips trailed down, his tongue traced the indentation they too small underwear had left on the gentle curve of his belly. Sam's body arched, a soft moan escaping his lips as Mike's tongue

Mike's lips trailed lower, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of Sam's skin, his touch sending a shiver of pleasure through Sam's body.

Sam's body arched, his back bowing as Mike's tongue explored the sensitive flesh, his tongue sending waves of pleasure through Sam's body. Mike's fingers continued to tease Sam's body, squeezing the now soft flesh.

Mike's tongue danced along the plush folds of Sam's belly, savoring the taste of his skin as it rippled under his touch. Sam's body quivered with pleasure, his moans a symphony of desire that filled the room. Mike's exploration continued, his tongue tracing the contours of Sam's expansive form, each curve and crevice a testament to the transformation they both cherished.

As Sam's moans grew louder, Mike's fingers traced the sensitive skin of Sam's lower belly, teasing the soft, hanging flesh that had grown so lush over time. The sight of it, the feel of it, was a source of immense pleasure for Mike, a testament to the power exchange they had embraced.

With a gentle command, Mike leaned Sam over the table, his hands caressing the soft, round mound of Sam's belly as he entered him from behind. The feeling of Sam's body enveloping him was overwhelming, Sam's hips bucked, his body responding to Mike's touch.

Mike's hands tightened on Sam's belly, his fingers digging in as he began to move with a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. The sight of Sam's body, now so much larger than it had been, was a source of immense pleasure for Mike. He reveled in the feeling of his own power, the way he could control Sam's movements, the way he could make Sam's body respond to his touch.

With each thrust, Sam's belly jiggled, the soft flesh quivering under Mike's touch. Mike's eyes were fixed on the sight, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lost himself in the moment. He could feel the tension building, the pressure growing, and he knew that he was close.

Sam's moans filled the room, his body arching as he reached his climax. Mike followed close behind, his body shuddering as he came. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against Sam's back as they both caught their breath.

As they lay there, Mike's heart still pounding in his chest, he couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him.

He gently traced the curve of Sam's waist, his fingers lingering on the soft, plump flesh. "I love you, Sam," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Sam's body trembled, his voice hoarse as he replied, "I love you too, Mike. Are there anymore cookies left?"

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