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lightvixxen · 8 months

Text

His housewife.

I GOT THE IDEA OF BEING SPENCERS LIL HOUSEWIFE AND I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT IT

summary: after Spencer has been away on a weeklong case you decide to make him dinner, which leads to him calling you his housewife and absolutely refusing to admit it.

WC: 2278

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, this is pretty vanilla ngl, kinda soft dom! Spencer Reid, housewife kink, breeding kink (How did that happennnn), lingerie.

You hummed around the kitchen, you looked at the time and smiled to yourself. It was 5:30pm, meaning that in thirty minutes your husband, Spencer Reid, would walk through the apartment's door. If they weren’t pulled away on a last minute case. And you were praying that wouldn’t be the case tonight.

The BAU had already been gone on a week-long case, and they just got back last night. You barely got to spend any time with your husband before the poor thing fell asleep on your couch. You missed him desperately, it was always hard, with his job. There was always the looming possibility that he would be pulled away from you for weeks on end, leaving you to your own devices.

Though for tonight, you had made a nice dinner,making use of the recipe you had gotten from Rossi when you and Spencer had married. You smiled to yourself, realizing just how much of a housewife you looked like. You worked down at a local coffee shop, Spencer's salary was surprisingly enough to keep you both comfortable but you needed something to fill the lonely days he wasn’t with you. Besides, extra money never hurt anyone, you used your paycheck for luxury items for both you and spence, while he went to keep you in the apartment.

You set the table then walked to the living room, which was closest to the door and you waited for Spencer's return. You laughed at yourself when you realized that you were akin to a dog waiting for its owner to return but that's how you felt.

The second you heard the door unlock you were jumping up from your spot on the couch, the book in your hands immediately forgotten, Spencer wasn’t even through the door before you were pouncing on him, You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you kissed him senseless.

“Well- mmf- Hello- mm~ to you too.” Spencer's arms held you up as he walked through the threshold of your apartment, kicking the door shut.

“Missed you.” you mumbled, fingers tangling in his wild hair, you captured him in a desperate kiss, making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep waiting for him to arrive.

“Missed you too, my darling.” Spencer smiled softly, letting you love on him, it was definitely welcomed, especially after being away from you for so long. As he breathed the air around him in he noticed something,

“Did you cook dinner?” You nodded excitedly,

“I finally put the recipe Rossi gave to us at the wedding to good use! I swear I need a whole cookbook of that man's recipes-” You continued to ramble as Spencer put you down, his arms growing tired, you took hold of one of his hands as you led him into the kitchen.

Spencer couldn't help but look at you lovingly, you had been home all day, run to the grocery store because he knew you did not have the ingredients for the recipe Rossi gave to you on hand. And then, you slaved over the stove for god knows how long to make him dinner for when he got home.

He couldn’t help the flutter in his chest when he sat down at the table with you, a plate full of food already waiting for him. It was so domestic and he absolutely adored it.

“My little housewife…” he mumbled, before digging into the food you had presented before him, moaning at the taste, coming home to his drop dead gorgeous wife jumping into his arms, then eating the delicious food she prepared is definitely what he needed after the week he had.

You looked up at him from the food you had been eagerly waiting to actually get your hands on and eat,

“What was that babe?” you asked, you had caught a little of him said, ‘my’ and ‘house’ being the only things you managed to makeout, Spencer could be extremely quiet when he wanted.

Spencer looked up from his respectful plate and shook his head,

“Hm? Nothing, it’s not important.”

“No, no, no, what did you say?”

Spencer smiled sheepishly before getting the brilliant idea of stuffing his face full of food to avoid admitting to you that he had called you his housewife, he wasn’t sure what your reaction would be, despite being with you for five years and him being a profiler it was always hard to gauge your reactions. He blames the fact he’s wildly in love with you, it acts as some sort of shield from his profiling skills. And he was just too fucking embarrased to actually admit it.

You huff realizing you're not gonna get it out of him while he has something to change the subject with.

After dinner you had decided to watch a movie, cuddled into Spencer's side on the couch. You had put on a horror movie, which you definitely were not paying attention to, and you doubt Spencer was either, you were just basking in the knowledge you were next to each other, instead of being miles apart.

You glanced down at his watch realizing it was close to midnight.

“Shit, it’s almost midnight.” You said, moving to get up. Spencer moves his arm that was slung over your shoulder.

“Gonna get ready for bed?” he asks you, and you nod, standing up.

“Yeah but I'm probably not gonna fall asleep for another few hours.” Your husband nods in understanding,

“I’ll be in there in a little bit” You nod again smiling, leaning down to peck Spencer on the lips before you move towards your shared bedroom. You were in the bathroom that connected to your bedroom when Spencer came in. You were brushing your hair, not wanting to deal with the unbearable knots that form in the morning.

You picked out a silky babydoll nightgown, it was purple, and just so happened to be Spencer's favorite nightgown that you owned. You were going to get what Spencer said out of him whether he likes it or not.

“Hey Spence…” you call, getting his attention, he was already in pajamas reading a book in the bed, like usually is.

“Yes?” he calls back, turning his attention away from the book he had in his hands. Before dropping it to the side entirely. “Really? The nightgown?” He asks, eyes scanning you up and down.

“What do you mean the nightgown…?” Spencer smirks at you.

“Sweetheart, you only wear that nightgown on our anniversary or when you really want to get something out of me.”

“Well…not my fault it works getting information out of you.” You cross your arms under your breasts, the nightgown already accentuates your curves, along with your breasts, other than the color that was the reason why it was Spencer's favorite, it showed off his favorite parts of you.

He groaned when he realized what you were doing.

“That's why it works, you're the definition of temptation when you wear it.”

You smirk, walking towards the bed while swaying your hips, Spencer's eyes were trained on you, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted out of him. You slowly slid yourself onto his lap, making sure you kept eye contact with him. Once you were fully settled onto his lap Spencer attempted to put his hands on your waist but you caught his wrists before he could.

“Nu-uh no touching, you get to touch when you tell me what you said earlier.” you tell him, and he groaned again.

“Evil woman, you know how to exactly get what you want from me, don’t you?” You smile at him, “Spill it, doctor Reid”

“God you are evil.” Spencer smiles. “I uh- I called you my housewife…just you cooking, waiting for me to come home…it's so domestic, the thought just slipped out.” You hummed, leaning down to kiss up his neck, leaving bruises in your wake, you released his wrists in favor of balancing yourself on his chest. His hands went to rest on your waist.

“That's it? Not really embarrassing.”

“You weren’t even meant to hear it.” Spencers hands moved from your waist to your ass, and buried his face in your neck. “I really should burn this nightgown, you get the upper hand too easily.”

You gasp when you feel his hands squeeze your ass “I’m more surprised you haven’t ripped it yet-!” you squeal when he changes the position, swapping you so you're on your back and he’s towering over you, he places his knee so it's in between your thighs.

“I’ve definitely thought about it…” He mumbles into your neck, his hands sliding the bottom of the nightgown up to bunch around your hips, his knee presses into your center, you have no doubts he can feel a damp spot in your panties.

“Spencer…” you whimpered, feeling his lips trace the column of your neck, he liked to take his time with you, especially after you decided to tease him.

He tugged the nightgown down to free your breasts, thanking the heavens that it didn’t take too much effort. He moved his head so he was leveled with your breasts, his mouth wrapping around one of your nipples. You shivered at the sensation. Spencer was obsessed with your boobs, he could spend hours just sucking on them if you’d let him.

His tongue circled your nipple, and his other hand came up to pinch and pull at the other, soft moans flying out of your mouth at your husband's ministrations. Spencer spent a generous amount of time on one before he moved to give his attention to the other, giving both of your breasts equal treatment.

“Spencer please, don’t tease-”

“Baby, you're the one who decided to tease me first.” He tells you, breaking away from your breasts, deciding he was done anyway. He rucks up the bottom of the nightgown, exposing the matching lace panties.

“Why do you even bother to wear panties with this thing, you should know I get them off of you the second you give me the chance” He pulls the lace down your legs, flinging them somewhere in the room.

You shrug, “I don’t know either sometimes.”

Spencer pulls down his pajama pants and boxers enough to let his cock free. And you can feel your mouth water at the sight. Spencer had probably the most perfect cock you’ve seen, He was long but not to the point it was painful, and he had the perfect amount of girth to just to make you feel full.

He drags the head of his cock through your lips, coating it in your wetness, letting it catch on your clit a few times. You throw your head back and moan.

“Been thinking about this all week, been thinking about you all week” You tell him, moaning again when he finally sinks himself into your hole.

“Yeah?” He smirks, starting to slowly thrust in and out, he would pull out enough to where just the tip stayed in you, before slamming himself back into you. “What were you thinking about sweetheart?”

“Just- fuck- this, you, your cock filling me up, filling me with your cum- Fuck!” He made a calculated thrust into your g-spot, he can find and play with your body with terrifying precision.

“Really? Want me to fill you up, darling? Maybe we should try for a baby this time, hm? That way I can just keep you plugged up all day…” Spencer's thrusts became more steady, he kept a harsh rhythm, making sure to hit your g-spot with each one.

You moaned loudly, nodding quickly.

“Spencer! Please, shit, yes!”

“Yeah? Want to make me a daddy? Be my cute, pregnant, housewife?” he asked, and you nodded, his thrusted were deep and quick, he knew exactly how to force you close to the edge, paired with the fact you refuse to get off without him, he had you hurtling to the edge quicker than you’d like.

“Spencer, I’m gonna cum, please, please!”

“I am too sweetheart, just hold it a little longer, I’m so close baby” Spencer buried his face into your neck, he got vocal when he got close, and he liked using your body as a way to muffle his own moans.

“Spence no- Wanna hear you please-” Spencer lifted his head, putting his forehead against yours, moans falling from both of your mouths.

“I’m so close, you gonna cum with me baby?” One of Spencer's hands moved in between your bodies, his thumb rubbing tight circles into your clit. You nodded, feeling the tension tightening in your stomach.

“Shit- Fuck, please hurry Spence, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it!” You threw your head back into your pillows, eyes screwed shut, focusing on not cumming too early. Spencer laced his hands through yours, hips desperately chasing his own release.

“Now, fuck, cum now!” His words were enough to have the tension in your stomach snap, your cunt spazzing and tightening around his cock. Your orgasm is what tipped him over the edge, with one last thrust Spencer buried himself deep inside you, filling you up with his cum.

After a few minutes all that was left in the room was the sound of your rugged breathing, you’re pretty sure you’ve ascended to heaven, after a week of being pent up and how powerful your orgasm was you’re confident that it killed you.

Spencer had collapsed on top of you, catching his breath. He looked up at you, resting his head on your chest. You smiled back, hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair.

“Welcome home, Spence.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer reid x afab!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #lightvixxens spencer

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bbyquokka · 2 years

Text

You love me though ˗ˋ꒰♡꒱ˊ˗

➥ pairing: Lee Minho x F!Reader

➥ genre: fluff, smut. MDNI

➥ synopsis: Minho helps you cook for you and your date, despite feeling jealous. However, when your date stood you up, Minho comforts you, making you realise your true feelings.

➥ warnings: smut, protected sex, fingering, clit play, blowjob, nipple play, blood [mentioned, not described], violence [mentioned, not described], cheating, unrequited love, explicate language, dirty thoughts [m], alcohol consumption, pet names [babe, kitten], jealousy – if i missed any, lmk!

➥ words: 7.5k

➥ a/n: i know, i know. another minho fic but this has been unfinished in my drafts for a while plus i have minho brain rot rn i blame taste soooo. i also got this idea from rewatching minhos vlogs and skz code ep 10-12, where he would cook for the boys. i hope y'all enjoy!

Feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

➥ m.list

Flicking through various cookbooks, you groan, slowly feeling yourself becoming frustrated. You discarded the current book you were flicking through beside you.

You run your hand through your hair, looking at the piles of discarded books and printed recipes. You grab your phone, looking for something online but to no avail.

"What am I going to do? All these recipes are too difficult for me." You mumble to yourself. You put your head in your hands, feeling frustrated tears pooling in your eyes.

You sniffle, blinking back the tears as you thought of what to do. You have a date tomorrow night and – for some reason – you agreed to make them dinner at your place.

You have been talking to your date for 1 month before deciding it was time to take it a little further. Unbeknownst to him, you cannot cook a single thing, no matter how hard you try.

"Wait.. I know someone who can help me!" You grab your phone, pulling up the contacts. You press the call button, putting your phone to your ear as it rings. After two rings, you got an answer.

"What do you want?" You scoff.

"Well, nice to hear from you too, Minho."

"I'm busy, (Y/N)" Minho exclaims. You hear the sounds of something rustling, Minho making cooing sounds. You raise a brow.

"And by busy, you mean, 'I'm actually spending time with my three fur children so could you please leave me alone?'" you mock, doing your best Minho impression. Minho sighs. You can practically see his eyes rolling at you.

"Exactly. You know this so why are you bothering me?"

"Minho?" You question. You receive a small "Mhm" from him, indicating that he is half listening and half occupied.

"How long have we been best friends?"

"Since we were children, why?" Minho sighs again, realising where this is going. You giggle. "Okay, spill it out (Y/N) what do you want from me?"

"I need help, like desperately!"

"Okay, with what exactly?"

"Uh, well, you know how I've been talking to someone," Minho hums. "Well, they're coming over to my place."

"Look, if you've called me just to ask me for love advice, I'm not interested." Minho removes his phone from his ear, about to hang up on you.

"Nonono, waittt." Your desperate voice echoes through Minho's apartment. He rolls his eyes, placing his phone back on his ear.

"I'm cooking.." You mumble.

Silence. You blink, looking at your phone screen thinking Minho disconnected, but he was still on the phone with you.

"H-Hello? Minho?" A fit of laughter suddenly erupts in your ear. You can practically see his eyes scrunching up at the corners, his teeth on display as he clutches his stomach.

"Y-You?! Cooking?!" Minho splutters between his fits of giggles. "No way!"

"Minho! stoppp!" You whine as you pout, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"How did you manage that?" Minho's laughter dies down, a finger coming to the corner of his eye to wipe away a tear.

"Man! I don't know, okay! I guess I just want to impress them, so I said I would cook. I've looked at so many recipes, but they're so complicated, Minho." you grumble.

"Okay, first of all (Y/N) recipes are not complicated, they're designed to be fool proof. You just, really suck at cooking." You roll your eyes, moving you mouth in time with Minho's words, mocking him.

"Second of all, just order and pass it off as your own, I'm sure they wouldn't see a difference."

"I can't do that! That's just – morally wrong, Min!" You gasp.

"Then if you don't want to do that, why phone me?" Minho says, petting Dori who took vacancy on Minho's lap.

"Well, I was thinking–"

"Yeah, no wonder it smells like burning. Don't think too hard, you'll fry your brain." Minho laughs, interrupting you mid sentence.

"You're so meann!" You whine.

"You love me though, Kitten." You blush softly, going shy at his words. You can feel his smugness radiating through the phone.

"Fuck you, Min." You softly speak, playing with the ends of your hair like a shy school girl who has a crush.

"You wish."

"Min, stoppp. let me speak!" Minho chuckles.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry. You were saying?" You clear your throat, gaining back your composure.

"Anyways – I was thinking, seeing as you're so good at cooking – you could help me!"

"Uh, no."

"Huh? Why?" You whine

"Because, you got yourself in this mess, you can get yourself out of it."

"But Min! I'm your bestest ever friend in the whole wide world! You love me!"

"Yes and–" Minho cut himself off, clearing his throat as he runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm not helping you, Kitten."

"But, what if I start cooking and I suddenly burn my apartment down?!" You gasp, getting an idea "Then I can come and live with you Min! Wouldn't that be so much fun!!"

"Absolutely not! I have all the fun I need in the form of my beloved 3 cats."

"Plus me. It'll happen Minho. If I cook and I burn my apartment down, I'm going to live with you! It'll be so much fun! Just think of all the pampering sessions we would have."

You smirk, hearing Minho groan. You have him right where you want him – you won.

"Ugh! fine, you win. I'll help you out!" You grin, cheering victoriously

"Thank you Min! I love youuu." You coo

"Yeah yeah. Just get your ass down to the supermarket. I'll meet you there." Minho hangs up. You punch the air excitedly, basking in your glory.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Standing at the supermarket waiting for Minho, you shiver as the crisp autumn air runs shivers down your spine. You nuzzle into your scarf, hands in your coat pocket.

You look around at the various people walking past you and inside the supermarket. You look at your digital clock on your phone, your wallpaper background being of you and Minho, taking a cute selfie together.

You look up, seeing Minho walking towards you. You beam, waving your arms in the air before running to him.

"Minho!!" You shout, giggling as you run to him. Minho looks up, rolling his eyes at you before laughing softly. He stops in his tracks, opening his arms wide. You run into his arms, Minho grunting at the sudden impact.

You nuzzle into Minho's chest, taking in his scent as you hum. Minho looks down at you, smiling softly as he wraps his arms around your figure.

"I've missed you, Minho!" Your words muffled against his chest. Minho laughs softly, ruffling your hair. You whine, pushing his hands away.

"We spoke literally 10 minutes ago!" You pull away from Minho, fixing your hair as you pout at him.

"You know what I mean. You spend more time with your cats than you do with me." You whine.

"Because my cats are adorable and oh-so sweet."

"And I'm not?" You raise a brow playfully. Minho takes a few seconds to think, humming in the process. You scoff, playfully hitting his chest. He grunts and laughs.

"You know I've always found you adorable, kitten." Minho smirks, winking. You blush, burying your face into your scarf.

"Fuck you and your charms." You mumble. Minho hums, loving how you always act shy around him. It makes his heart swell up with more love for you.

Minho has loved you for as long as he can remember. He believes that you two are soulmates. He didn't realise he had feelings for you until you got your first serious partner.

Minho hated it. He hated it so much. How he couldn't have you to himself – it made him green with envy. Your partner wasn't exactly nice to you during the relationship. They had a history of cheating in the past but, for some reason, you thought you'd be different.

However, 2 months in and they had already fucked someone else. You stupidly forgave them after they spewed lies about how they would 'change' and 'it meant nothing, just a one off'. The cheating carried on for months as well as the constant disrespect

Your ex partner hated Minho because Minho wasn't blind. Your ex had you wrapped around their little finger so they knew they could get away with anything, however, Minho's different.

He saw past the bullshit and that scared your ex. They knew you went crying to Minho, they also knew that Minho 100% tried to convince you to leave them.

To add fuel to the fire, Minho and your ex got into a fight. Minho was around yours and your ex hated that, accused you of doing sexual things with him. You were dumbfounded, your blood boiling with rage as your ex screamed accusations after accusations.

Seeing you in so much pain and distress caused Minho to stand up for you, joining in calling him a bastard and that they don't deserve you. Due to rage, Minho said some things that should not be repeated. Your ex hated that, felt threatened so, in their usual cowardly ways, they swung so Minho swung back.

You broke up the fight, your ex calling you both bitches. You were in floods of tears. A busted lip and a black eye along with some blood were the only injuries Minho sustained. You helped clean him up and once done, Minho had a serious talk with you.

Minho is direct, he doesn't sprinkle sugar onto shit because at the end of the day, it's still shit. The words Minho spoke hurt but it had to hurt in order for you to open your eyes – which you finally did, after 9 months.

Since then, you have been healing with the help of Minho. He was so good to you, making sure you were eating and staying hydrated. Occasionally, he would storm into your apartment, swing you over his shoulder and force you to get dressed by throwing random items of clothing at you.

He loves you and as much as he wants to tell you his feelings, he's scared. He doesn't want to lose you and if that means being friend zoned until the day you both grow old and live with 10 cats, then so be it.

You take Minho's hand into yours. Minho made a mental note of how soft your hands feel against his skin. His heart rate speeding up a little as you drag him inside the store.

You grab a shopping cart, pushing it into the store whilst Minho walks beside you.

"So, what do I need?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After half an hour of shopping for ingredients, amongst other things, you paid for it all, walking out the store with multiple bags in hand. You and Minho walk to your apartment. You somehow convinced him to help you cook and by that you meant – 'You cook, I watch'

But how could Minho say no to you when you give him your best puppy eyes, ones that make him melt.

Once home, you got to work unpacking. Minho rolls up his sleeves, washing his hands as you did the same. The ingredients for the meal you plan on cooking spread out across the counters.

"Okay. First things first, we need to cut the meat." Minho instructs. You nod, grabbing a knife. Minho keeps an eye on you, ready to come to your aid in case you hurt yourself. You place the meat on a chopping board, cringing at the texture.

"Ew! it's so slimy!" You whine. Minho shakes his head, laughing softly.

"Slimy? It's raw pork belly (Y/N) How can it be slimy?" Minho chuckles, grabbing a knife also and the veg.

"It just is okay. Don't question my intelligence." You state playfully. Minho looks at you as he washes the veg, eyebrow raised.

"Intelligence? What intelligence?" You pout, glaring at him as he dried the veg, smirking at you.

"You're so mean, Minho!"

"Yet you love me, kitten." Your face flushes red, heart rate slowly speeding up, like it always does when he is his usual charming self.

"Yes, I do." You admit, slicing up the pork. Minho swallows, pressing his lips together. He knew you meant it in the friend way however, he couldn't stop his heart from racing, pounding against his chest.

"Ah, this sucks." He whispers to himself, voicing out his thoughts as he peels and chop the veg.

"Minho!!" You whine, placing the knife down. His head spins to the side, eyes widening as he notices blood from your finger.

"Shit. Are you okay?!" He rushes to your side, looking at your cut finger.

"It hurts, Minho." You sniff.

"I know kitten. Go run it under the water. I'll get first aid." You nod, placing your finger under the cold water. You wince at the sting as Minho comes back with the first aid kit.

"Can I?" He holds his hand out to you. You nod, placing your hand on his. He brings your hand close to his face, looking at your wound.

"Oh kitten. What are you like." He chuckles softly. You pout, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "Lucky, it's only a small cut so, you'll be okay. I'll clean it and put a plaster on for you, okay?"

You nod, your bottom lip still sticking out. Minho cleans your wound and puts a pink plaster around your finger. He kisses it softly, making you go shy at the sweet gesture.

"Now, no more accidents. Okay?"

"Yes Sir!" You salute, giggling softly as Minho rolles his eyes and ruffles your hair.

"Let's get back to work kitten."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It took you and Minho exactly 4 hours to prepare and cook the meal for your date. You're currently getting ready whilst Minho sits on the sofa, sipping some cold water and browsing on his phone.

You instructed him to stay. You insisted you needed help in what to wear for your date and knew Minho would give his honest opinion. As much as Minho didn't want to, he did. It was bad enough he had to help you cook a meal for someone that wasn't him, but hey, if you're happy so is he.

You walk out your bedroom dressed in a sexy yet elegant dress. Your hair styled and face decorated with minimal make-up. You press your lips together, smoothing down your dress as you clear your throat.

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes widening at the sight of you. His body feels warm suddenly, blood rushing south as he looks at you up and down. His mind went blank

"So..?" You nervously ask after seconds of silence "How do I look?"

Minho's brain short circuits. He's speechless. To him, you're the most beautiful women on the planet and even though he is use to seeing you in casual clothing, seeing you in a elegant dress, was breath-taking to him

"Beautiful. You look absolutely beautiful, (Y/N). You're so breath-taking." You look at your feet shyly, playing with your fingers as you smiled softly

"R-Really?"

"Absolutely." Minho stands, walking towards you. He cups your face in his hands, making you look at him "You're the most beautiful woman on this planet."

Your face flushes red. The rosy red blush you used to decorate your cheeks, merging together with the colour of your flush.

"Y-You don't mean that Min." You whisper, hands coming up and placing them on top of his.

"I mean it kitten. With all my heart, I mean it. I've never seen a more beautiful, yet elegant woman in my life. You make me speechless."

He wants to kiss you. He saw your eyes flickering to his lips and back up again. He wants to convince you to not have this date. Every fibre in his body is screaming at him to just kiss your soft lips, even if it means you hating him for eternity.

He just wants a feel, a taste. To feel your soft skin against his fingertips. To hear your sweet, delicate moans. He's always wondered what you would sound like whilst his cock strokes the deepest parts of your body.

Are you loud or are you quiet? Do you whimper and beg or do you demand? So many questions he's asked himself. So many sinful thoughts he's masturbated to. So many times he's wished he could do sinful things to you

Now is his chance. Should he grab it with greedy hands or should he leave, allow you to have your date even if it means he has to watch from afar, yet again.

He wants it

He wants you. It's so close, he can taste it. That forbidden fruit coating his taste buds, making him addicted to you. His mind fuzzy as your perfume hits his nostrils. It's the same perfume you always use and has no effect on him, however this time, it's different. He feels dizzy. Greedy. Needy. He wants you so bad.

You clear your throat, removing your hands from his. Minho clears his own, blinking a few times as he comes back down to reality

"My date will be here soon."

"A-Ah. Yes, of course. I'll uhm, I'll get going." Minho rushes to the hallway, putting on his coat and shoes. "Have fun kitten. I hope it goes well for you!"

That's a lie.

He doesn't want it to go well. He wants it to end terribly. He wants you to phone him up, sobbing as you decide to tell him how much of an asshole your date is. He wants to be the one to hold you, kiss your forehead and tell you it's all okay. To soothe you of your pain, in more ways than one.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hours pass by. Minho keeps checking his phone in case he misses you phoning or texting him, but nothing. Knowing that it was probably going well for you, he sighes, his heart heavy with despair and jealousy. Picking up Doongie from his lap, he rise up from the sofa, deciding to call it a night.

Taking off his clothing so he was just in his boxer shorts, he gets into bed. As he's about to shut off his lamp, his phone rings. Looking at his screen, a burst of excitement and hopefulness runs through his body as your contact pops up

There's only one reason why you would phone him so late – your date went terrible

"What do you want?" Minho gives his usual greeting. Silence. He blinks, looking at his screen thinking you disconnected before placing his phone back on his ear

"Kitten? Hello? Are you there?" That's when he hears it. Your heartbroken sobs. Minho shoots up out of bed, redressing himself.

"M-Minho." You sob.

"Hold on kitten, I'll be there."

He drives to your apartment, breaking every law possible but he didn't care. He hates seeing and hearing you cry however, when it comes to your heartbroken sobs, it hits Minho differently. It breaks his own heart.

He knocks on the door before using the spare key you gave him years ago. He lets himself in, looking around your place. He notices the food and table you set has been untouched. The bottle of wine plus one glass was missing from the table

"Kitten?" He softly calls out.

"Living area." Minho rushes to where you were, his legs carrying him as fast as they could. The living area is dimly lit with a lamp that was suppose to set a romantic atmosphere but now held a much sadder atmosphere

His eyes fell on to you, his gaze softening as he sees you sipping the wine on the sofa. He walks over to you, sitting beside you as he cups your cheeks softly.

"Oh kitten. What happened?" Tears prick your lower lash line, spilling over and replacing your dried mascara stains with new ones. Minho's heart break.

"T-They never came! I waited Min. I waited and waited and nothing." You speak through broken sobs, your breath hiccupping in your throat. Minho frowns, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Not even a call or text?" You shake your head.

"Nothing! Nothing at all. They just stood me up Min! It'd hurt less if they gave me a shit excuse but no."

Minho pulls you into his chest, rocking you back and forth slowly as he wrapped his arms around you gently. He strokes your arm soothingly. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

His musk cinnamon scent hit your nostrils and before you know it, you broke down. Your sobs shake your body, breathing becoming erratic. Minho hushes you softly, stroking your hair to calm you down.

He thought he would be ecstatic to hear about your failed date. That way, he could selfishly have you all to himself. However, seeing and hearing you in so much pain, broke his heart and he no longer felt ecstatic, but sad and stupid.

"There, there kitten. It'll all be okay in the end." His soothing words calm your cries. You pull away from Minho's chest, your breath hiccupping at the back of your throat and chest.

Minho wipes away your tears gently. Your eyes swollen and puffy as they look glossy from the tears. Your cheeks flush red as your skin feels warm from your outburst.

"M-Minho." You hiccup, struggling to catch your breath.

"Before you even think about doing or saying anything, you need to calm down kitten. C'mon, take deep breaths with me." You copy Minho in taking deep breaths, slowly calming down and feeling your heart rate resume its natural pace.

"Good girl." Minho praises, kissing your forehead gently.

"Am I cursed, Min?" You mumble. Minho looks at you confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Every relationship I have fails. Maybe I'm cursed. Maybe I'm destined to be forever alone with 10 cats." Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head.

"You're not cursed kitten. You just haven't found the one yet."

"Have you found 'the one'?" You looked up. Minho was taken aback by your sudden question.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Well, I know you've had relationships in the past but when was your last one? 1, 2–"

"4 years kitten. It's been 4 years since my last relationship."

"Why so long Minho? You're a handsome man, you could have anyone you want."

"But I don't want just anyone, I want you" – is what he wanted to say. He ruffles your hair softly, making you pout.

"Thanks kitten. I'm flattered." Minho winks. "Now, go get changed into something comfortable." You pout, nodding slowly before standing and walking to your bedroom.

You return bare faced, hair down and wearing shorts and an old oversized t-shirt that once belonged to Minho. He smiles, his heart warming up as he sees the t-shirt.

"You still have that old thing?"

"Of course! It's special." You speak, sitting down next to Minho and grabbing your wine glass. He hums softly in acknowledgement. He spent some time with you, helping you clean up the forgotten food. Once he was convinced you were going to be okay, he decided it was time for him to head home.

"Well, I'm going to leave now kitten. Now that I know you'll be okay, I'll be on my way." Minho turns his back to you as he was about to walk to the hallway.

Your hand fly's out instinctively, grabbing Minho's wrist. He looks back at you over his shoulder, slowly turning to putty as you look at him with doll eyes

"Don't go." You whisper. Minho swallows. He's spent the night with you numerous times, however, tonight feels different. He nods slowly, agreeing to stay with you.

"Okay, I'll stay kitten."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2am rolls over. You and Minho are sitting on the sofa, laughing and gossiping. You both have had a drink so you were feeling a little bit tipsy.

"Don't you miss it, Min?" You ask before bringing your wine glass to your lips. You sip the red liquid, licking your top lip to rid of any residue.

"Miss what?" Minho's eyes dart to your tongue, watching it lick your top lip before disappearing back into your mouth.

"Sex." Normally, Minho would have rolled his eyes, scold you about how nonchalant and straight forward you can be when it comes to sex. However, with the alcohol running through his bloodstream, he didn't mind.

"Yeah. I do."

"What do you miss about it?"

"Everything. The touch, the taste, the sounds. I miss all of it kitten. I am a man after all and just like you, I have needs." Minho winks, sipping his alcoholic beverage. You stick your tongue out at him playfully "Do you miss it?"

You think for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah. I miss having a connection with someone though."

"What do you mean?" Minho looks at you, his hand placed on your thigh gently as he strokes your soft skin with his thumb.

"Well, I don't mind one night stands but I miss sex with a meaning. I want to feel connected, feel what my partner is feeling. I want to share it and enjoy it." You let out a deep sigh before speaking "I thought I did, but turns out they're just like the rest of them." You mumble bitterly.

"Don't worry kitten. You will find the one eventually. You're gorgeous, smart and adorable" You roll your eyes at Minho.

"Ahuh and pigs can fly."

"Don't be like that, kitten. I mean it. To me, you're perfect."

"I am?" You ask, looking at him with those eyes that makes him melt. He swallows his saliva. Now is his chance. It's now or never, even if it means sacrificing the friendship.

"Yes, you are. To me, you're the most perfect and beautiful woman to have walked the planet (Y/N)" You blush a deep shade of red. Your heartbeat speeding up and thumping loudly against your chest.

Your skin on your thigh feels hot where Minho is stroking and truth be told, you've forever felt like this around Minho. You've always thought it was because he's a charming man but maybe that's not the case.

Is this – love? Has 'the one' been right under your nose this whole time?

"Remember when you asked me if I've found the one?" You nod "The answer to that is yes, I have."

"Who??" Minho closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for impact. He opens them again, leaning in close to you. You swallow, frozen in place as his face gets dangerously close to yours.

"You." He whispers against your lips. Whether it was the events that happened or the alcohol in his system, he feels a surge of confidence run though him.

He leans in, connecting his lips to your own. Your eyes widen in shock. Minho's lips stay still as you struggle to understand what was happening. Minho's heart beating against his chest so hard, he thought it was going to rip out from his ribcage

Seconds went by painfully for him and when he thought all hope was lost, that he lost you for good, you close your eyes and move your lips against his, encouraging him to move in sync with yours.

A burst of giddiness and disbelief washes over him. You, the person he has loved since forever, was kissing him. It feels like his birthday had come so soon.

You don't hate it, in fact, you love it. Minho's lips are soft and plump. They mould together with your own, like you're made for one another. It's blissful to you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers interlocking behind his neck to keep him close to you. Minho squeezes your thighs gently. You deepen the kiss, lust and want slowly washing over you and consuming your mind

Minho nibbles and licked your bottom lip, silently asking for permission which you granted. Your lips part for his tongue to dive inside. He tastes the inside of your mouth, wine coating his taste buds.

He hum in the kiss as you whimper. Your tongues meeting together. The wet muscles colliding and fighting for dominance – a fight that was guaranteed for you to lose. Saliva pools at the corners of your mouth, your fingers buried in Minho's hair as your skin feels hot to the touch.

Your mouth feels good. Minho's skilful tongue tasting and battling against your own. Lust pools at your core, breathing becoming irregular. Minho parts from your lips, panting softly as the oxygen resumed back into his lungs.

Your lips swollen, cheeks flush as you look at him and whimper.

"Minho. More."

Minho snaps. The rationality that told him no. That told him to hold on, snapped. He stands up, before picking you up by your ass. He cups under it as you wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck.

You mewl, feeling his erection against your clothed pussy. As Minho walks to your bedroom, you lick a long, wet strip up his neck, stopping at his ear. You nibble the lobe, causing Minho to shiver and grunt before kissing his neck softly.

Once in your room, Minho places you on the bed gently. Your back landing against your soft mattress. Ethereal. You look so ethereal to him. He wants to caress you, take his time with you. He wants to drive out each and every sweet moan from your lips.

He's wanted this – wanted you – for so long, that every fibre in his body is screaming at him to just pounce on you. Take you roughly, corrupt your mind. He wants to piledrive into you, make you so sore that you'd have no choice but to depend on him for help.

He's a rational man, but when it comes to you, the beast comes out from hiding.

"Minho." You mewl. "C'mere." You extend your arms out, doing grabby hands at him. Minho laughs as he kneels between your legs. The mattress dipping at his weight as he leans over you, hands planting firmly on the mattress against your head.

Leaning in, his lips attached themselves to the skin of your neck. Sucking and nibbling, you moan softly, hands tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt.

He pulls away for a second, taking his t-shirt off. You hum at the sight of his toned body. You place your hand on his chest, feeling how sturdy it is against your fingertips

"You've been working out?"

"From time to time." Minho states with a shrug. He takes your hand from his chest, kissing the palm of your hand gently as he looks in your eyes. You melt as you see nothing but love coating his honey eyes.

"Beautiful. You're so beautiful (Y/N)." you whine softly, turning your head to the side to avoid his gaze. Minho leans over you, tilting your head back to face him with his fingers against your jaw.

You whimper again, closing your eyes as your lips connect again. This time, the kiss is filled with passion, want and love. It's slow and seductive. It allows you both to bask in the feeling of each other. You feel Minho's love radiating from him and you hoped he felt yours.

He's always been the one. You've just been too blind and stupid to realise it – until tonight.

Minho slips your shorts off, throwing them on the floor. You shiver as his fingertips stroke the inside of your thighs, getting dangerously close. You pull away from his lips, lifting the t-shirt up and over your head.

You blush a deep shade of red, feeling exposed in just your baby pink cotton panties. Minho's eyes scan up and down your body, taking in every detail and curve you have to offer.

"M-Minho. Stop staring." You whimper, head turned to the side. You put your arms over your breasts, covering them. Minho clears his throat as he grabs your wrists gently, removing your arms.

"Don't hide. You're extremely gorgeous." His words coated with love as he speaks softly. He looks at your breasts, licking his lips before looking at you "Can I?"

"Of course." You nod. His head dips low. He plants soft kisses down your neck and between your breasts. He cups your left breast in his hand gently, squeezing the soft flesh as his lips kiss your right.

You hum softly. The tip of his tongue circled around your areola as his fingers gently stroke over your hardened nipple. He rolls the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger.

You hum at the sensation, the tip of his tongue flicking across your nipple before he sucks and gently nibbles it. You groan softly, feeling his lips attach to your skin. He kisses and sucks the skin of your breast, leaving marks behind.

He pulls away from your breasts, his cheeks flush. He looks down at you, biting his bottom lip softly.

"Fuck, you drive me crazy." He whispers before kissing your lips again. His hand travels down your stomach to your inner thighs, stroking them slowly.

He gently parts your legs before moving to cup your clothed pussy. You groan in the kiss, his fingers rubbing up and down your slit, feeling a wet patch from your slick slowly forming on your panties.

He gently starts to rub your clit over your panties. Minho swallows each one of your sweet whimpers. Your fingertips lightly travelling down his back, goose bumps rising on his soft skin.

You tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting off. Pulling away from your lips, he takes his sweatpants off, throwing them beside your t-shirt before sitting on the bed, back against the headboard.

You swallow, eyes darting to his crotch. An obvious tent had formed in his black boxer shorts, a wet patch slowly forming from his pre-cum. This time, it was Minho's turn to feel shy

"Stop staring kitten." Minho blushes, clasping his hands together in front of his erection. You sit up, crawling between his legs as you remove his hands slowly

"Don't hide, baby. Show me." You mewl. Minho groans softly, feeling your fingertips dance along his shaft through the material.

"You feel so – girthy. I wonder how you're going to fit inside me." You mewl, locking eyes onto him. He presses his lips together in a thin line, shivering at your words.

"I'll take care of you kitten, don't worry."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that Min." You kiss his shaft gently through the material of his boxer shorts as you hook your fingers under his waistband. You look at him with questioning eyes, to which Minho nods, granting you permission.

You pull down his boxer shorts, discarding them on the ground. His cock springs free from its restraints as a sigh of relief leaves Minho's lips. You swallow, eyes widening.

His cock a little over average in length however, he's girthy. Tip red and coated in a thin layer of pre-cum. His veins protruding along the side, fading at the tip.

"Kitten seriously. Stop staring at me. You're making me shy."

"You're so adorable Minho." You coo. You wrap your hand around the base of his penis, his skin hot against the palm of your hand. You hum softly, slowly stroking him as you lowered your head. The tip of your tongue connected with his tip.

You give small kitten licks, humming as the salty flavour of pre-cum coating your taste buds. You alternate between stroking him and massaging his balls causing Minho to groan softly.

You look up at him through your lashes, your core clenching at the sight of him. Rosy cheeks, glossy eyes and lips parted – he looks so dreamy. You close your eyes, wrapping your lips around his tip. You slowly lower your head, your warm and wet mouth trapping Minho's length. You take half of his length in your mouth.

You bob your head up and down slowly, wasting no time. Your tongue swirling along his length, saliva accumulation in your mouth threatening to spill from the corners. You stroke what you couldn't reach, wrist rotating.

Minho grips the bed sheets, sweet moans leaving his lips. He cannot believe his eyes. He's dreamt of this for so long, that seeing you give him a blowjob feels like another dream.

Your lips around his shaft, the feel of his cock stroking the insides of your mouth as your tongue swirls along his length feels so heavenly to him. He tucks your hair behind your ear, looking down at you as you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hum, the vibrations hitting his cock sending shivers down his spine.

You pull away from him, hand still stroking his cock. Your lips plump and eyes glossy with lust.

"Fuck, I can't." Minho grabs your shoulders gently, pushing you down so your back is against the soft mattress. You squeal, laughing softly.

Minho pulls down your panties, his mouth salivating at the sight of your cunt. Your slick coats your folds making it shine in the dim light. Using two fingers, he parts your folds before stroking up and down your slit getting his fingers coated with your juices.

You hum softly at the feeling, biting your lip as you anticipate his next move. He press his finger against your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly as he uses your slick as lubricant. Your hips buck at the sensation, Minho chuckling softly.

"Everything okay kitten?"

"M-Mhm. everything is fine just, I haven't been touched like this for a while."

"Do you feel good?"

"I feel amazing, Minho." You look in his eyes and smile softly. Minho's heart leaping out of his chest. He wants to take his time with you, show you how much you mean to him. He's going to handle you with care, like you're the finest pottery on the planet.

"Gosh, you're so beautiful (Y/N)" He whispers, his eyes scanning your body. You were about to protest his statement until you feel a finger slowly insert inside your entrance. He stops at the first knuckle, slowly moving it. He can feel how tight you are. Your cunt clenching around his finger.

"Kitten, relax." He softly speaks, leaning down to kiss your lips again. You hum, allowing yourself to relax which allows Minho to pump his finger inside you. He can feel you loosening around his finger, more of your slick coating him.

He wants to add a second. He wants to penetrate you with his thick cock, but he vowed to himself that he would treasure you. Make it just as pleasurable for you as it is for him

You may have been friends since childhood. You may know each others habits, however, when it comes to sex, you both clearly have some exploring to do. It's all about the chemistry, the connection. It has to feel good for you as it is for him and vice versa.

Only when you moaned out a breathy "more" did he insert a second finger, slowly. You groan, feeling his fingers scissor and stretch you out. He curls his fingers against your walls, his fingertips brushing against you. You wither, soft moans leaving your lips as you grip onto Minho's bicep. His muscles visible tensing as he thrusts his fingers inside you, veins slowly protruding alongside his arm.

Minho takes this time to admire your body. The way your stomach tenses and chest rises rapidly from your laboured breathing. How you would struggle to hold onto something because you feel too good. Your hair fanned out on the sheets, a thin layer of sweat slowly forming on your body.

This image of you will forever be engraved in his mind.

"M-Minho. I need more, I need so much more." Minho swallows, slowing down his thrusts. His cock twitching at the implication.

"A-Are you sure, kitten?" You nod your head fast, looking at him with doll eyes, begging him to penetrate you. "Okay, only if you're sure."

"A hundred percent Minho. Please, I need you so badly." You whimper as Minho pulls his fingers out off you slowly.

"Protection?" You point to your side draw. Minho raises a brow, opening the drawer to reveal a pack of condoms. He takes one before kneeling between your legs.

"You have a habit of keeping condoms in the side drawer or?" You playfully glare at him as he smirks.

"You can never be too sure, Minho! Its always best to keep protection close by."

"I guess." Minho shrugs as you raise a brow

"Don't you keep a pack close by? You know, just in case you bring home a one night stand?" You question.

"Nope." Minho opens the packet, taking the condom out.

"So you mean to tell me that you don't use them?" Minho shakes his head slowly as he smirks at you "Why."

Minho pumps himself a few times before rolling the condom on his length. "Because kitten, I prefer to go in raw."

You press your lips together, shivering at his words. "Maybe one day, you can fuck me raw."

"Don't tempt me kitten. It's bad enough that I'm battling between being rough and being gentle." You smirk, opening your legs wide. Grabbing the base of his cock, he guided his tip to your entrance.

"Ready Kitten?" Minho speaks softly.

"I'm ready." Minho pushes himself slowly inside you, taking extra care not to hurt you the best he could. You hiss, the burn radiating throughout your body from the stretch.

Minho pushes half his length inside you, pausing to allow you time to adjust. Your tight cunt clamping around his length, making it harder for him to cling onto the little bit of rationality he has left.

Minho interlocks his fingers with yours, stroking your hand softly with his thumb hoping to relieve you of your discomfort. You squeeze his hand gently.

"It's okay kitten. Take your time. Just let me know when you're ready." He speaks softly. You whimper, nodding. Minho patiently waits for you to adjust. Seconds later, you indicate that you are. Taking your waist in his hands, he slowly starts to thrust.

You groan at the feeling, the pain slowly turning into pleasure the more he thrusts. Your warmth encapsulated Minho's cock, making him shiver and slowly drown at the feeling

"Minho, faster, more!" You whisper. Minho grips your hips tightly, inserting the remaining of his length until he's bottomed out. You groan at the feeling of fullness, gripping the bed sheets in your hands. Minho's thrusts become powerful and fast. Skin slapping on skin, moans mixing and bouncing off the walls. You wither beneath him, unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure you're receiving.

Minho was also struggling to comprehend his own pleasure. Your warm, wet cunt feels so good around him. He feels like he's drowning. His head kicked back as soft groans left his lips. His body shining in the dim light due to it being coated in a thin layer of sweat. Beads of sweat run down his forehead and temples as his hair stocks to his skin.

"This is so much better than what I imagined." He groans between pants. You purposefully clench around his cock, making his moan.

"You feel good babe?" He nods fast, bottom lip captured between his bunny teeth. "Me too, It feels so good."

Minho's hips began to falter, his movements becoming sloppy. He squeezes your waist tightly, panting hard before the pad of his thumb comes into contact with your clit.

He rubs the sensitive bud as he thrusts into you. Your thighs shaking as your body jolts at the new sensation. You moan and whimper, the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening. Minho feels it from the way your cunt has a vice grip around his length, making it difficult for him to move.

"I think I'm going to cum." You struggle to say between your pants.

"Cum kitten. Cum around my cock." You squeeze your eyes shut, your orgasm washing over you in an instant. You cunt clenches and releases around Minho as your body shakes and empty moans leave your mouth. From how tight your cunt has a hold of him, Minho stops moving as he groans, emptying himself in the condom.

Minho continues to rub your clit, helping you rid out your high as he shallowly thrusts inside you to help rid out his own. Once calm, you push his hand away, claiming you're sensitive to the touch.

Minho chuckles, pulling you out of you and taking the condom off. He ties it before disposing of it in the trash. He lays next to you as your eyes slowly close.

Pulling your sweaty body against his own, you snuggle into him, enjoying the warmth and comfort he provides. You hum softly in contentment as you feel yourself relax – sleep slowly consuming your body

"Hey, no sleeping. We have to get cleaned up Kitten." Minho speaks softly

"What's there to clean? We used protection." You whisper.

"Well, you're probably sore and sweaty, so we have to help you get comfortable."

"I guess so, but I'm too tired, so carry me!"

"Absolutely not." You pout as you whine.

"You're so mean Minho!"

"But you love me."

You smiled softly at him. The typical banter between you both now having a new meaning.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

1K notes · View notes

renecdote · 1 year

Text

simmer

“This isn’t another Bobby secret recipe, is it?” he asks.

“Nah,” Buck answers. “I found it in a cookbook.”

“Okay, then let me do it,” Eddie says, moving forward to peer into the pan. “You can sit down, ice your shoulder…”

This amused little huff, like Buck can see right through him to the messy, beating heart underneath his words. Like he’s not quite sure what to do with it—being loved—which Eddie can’t even blame him for because he doesn’t know what to do with it sometimes too.

For BTHB: hurt caretaker

[Read on AO3]

Eddie wakes up to the smell of garlic and onions. He can’t place himself for a moment, the ceiling too high and the room too bright, the mattress just a little too soft and the duvet too heavy, and then he hears the sound of Christopher’s laugh downstairs and it all comes flooding back. He’s in Buck’s apartment. Buck’s bed. His fingers are tingling as feeling rushes back into the arm he was sleeping on.

“Just a quick nap,” he said earlier. “Wake me up in half an hour.”

But he can tell even before he fumbles for his watch on the nightstand that it’s been a lot longer than half an hour. His body feels heavy, his mind sticky with cobwebs, and it would be so, so easy to just roll over and go back to sleep.

He forces himself up instead.

“Dad!” Christopher calls when he sees him coming down the stairs. “We’re making lunch!”

Eddie rubs the lingering sleep from his eyes, warmth from the kitchen rolling over him as he draws nearer.

“Smells good,” he says, tousling Christopher’s hair when he reaches the island. His son twists his head away, groaning like the almost-teenager he is, but he’s grinning when he bends back over the recipe book open in front of him.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Buck greets him, too busy smiling at Eddie to notice the sauce dripping off his wooden spoon and onto the counter, bright red against granite grey.

“Hey.” Eddie has to clear his throat, his mouth dry from sleep. (And maybe, a little bit, the way Buck’s biceps bulge in his long-sleeved shirt.) “You were supposed to wake me.”

Buck’s head tilts, his smile bending into amusement. “I did. You grumbled about wanting five more minutes, then pulled the covers over your head. I figured you needed it so I let you sleep.”

Oh.

“I don’t remember that,” Eddie admits, sheepish. “Sorry.”

Buck shrugs, then winces, rubbing at his shoulder. Ice and rest, Hen instructed this morning, her gaze sweeping over Eddie as well like she already knew they’d be going home together. There was the suggestion of a sling as well, just in case, but Buck turned it down. Eddie wonders now whether he should have insisted on it, knowing Buck.

“This isn’t another Bobby secret recipe, is it?” he asks.

“Nah,” Buck answers. “I found it in a cookbook.”

“Okay, then let me do it,” Eddie says, moving forward to peer into the pan. “You can sit down, ice your shoulder…”

“It’s just spaghetti and meatballs, Eds, I think I can handle it. Besides, my sous chef is doing all the hard work.”

Christopher nods seriously. “I measured the ingredients and rolled all the meatballs.”

They’re sitting on a plate by the stove now, browned and ready to be added back into the sauce. Eddie is surprised the cooking didn’t wake him up earlier, but at the same time not surprised at all. Buck and Chris are a constant background hum of safe safe safe in the back of his mind; he thinks he could sleep through the end of the world, as long as they were nearby.

“At least let me do the spaghetti,” he tries.

Buck squints at him suspiciously. “You’re not going to break the noodles again, are you?”

Christopher’s giggles are music under Eddie’s groan. “That was one time. One time!”

“One time was enough,” Buck tells him solemnly.

“Fine.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I guess I’ll just sit here and look pretty.”

Buck opens his mouth, then closes it, swallowing the first instinctual response that came to mind. Eddie has the crazy thought that he should kiss him. Reach in there and pull the words out with his tongue. He bites his cheek instead, hoping the flush he can feeling crawling up his neck isn’t visible to anyone else. Are Buck’s cheeks more pink than they were a second ago too? Maybe. It’s probably just the heat of the stove. What are the odds that he was thinking about kissing Eddie as well?

“You can make the salad, dad,” Christopher suggests. “Buck says we have to have greens too because of all the carbs.”

Buck says.

Eddie thinks about saying it sometimes: you don’t have to take care of us.

He thinks about saying the other thing too: I like it when you take care of us.

It all feels too dangerous to put into words. Too much like standing on top of a cliff and peering over the edge, unsure where he might land if he fell. Unsure how much it will hurt. Daring to hope that it won’t.

Eddie clears his throat. “Well if Buck says so…”

He chops salad ingredients under Christopher’s careful supervision (“that’s too big, dad” and “no, that’s too small”) while Buck moves around behind him and, god help him, it’s so easy to imagine doing this for the rest of their lives. So easy to look back and see the way they’ve already been doing this for—how long has it been? Not the whole time they’ve known each other, but close enough. Buck ducks his head over the pasta sauce, stirring his wooden spoon through the simmering tomato-y goodness, and when he comes over with a teaspoon of sauce a second later and says, “hey, taste this for me,” Eddie opens his mouth without question.

“Mm. Good.”

The pasta sauce. He’s definitely just talking about the pasta sauce.

“Yeah? You don’t think it needs anything?”

I think I need you, forever, and it scares me how much I want you to need me too.

“No,” Eddie answers. “It’s perfect.”

Buck’s smile is like a drug, shooting through Eddie’s veins straight to his heart. It feels dangerous, being smiled at like that. Like maybe he’s not standing on top of that cliff after all. Maybe he’s already falling—has always been falling—and with every foot closer to the ground, the hope wrapping around him like a hug gets a little harder to ignore.

****

“Video games?” Chris asks hopefully, when pasta and meatballs have been demolished, the faint red of the sauce all that remains on their plates.

Buck turns to Eddie as well, ready to follow whatever lead he takes, and Eddie probably would have caved right then and there if not for the pain lines creeping in around Buck’s eyes.

“You have a book report due Monday,” he reminds Chris instead. “Get it at least half done and then we can talk about video games.”

Christopher groans. “Da-ad.”

“Chri-is,” Eddie mimics, and Buck snorts beside him.

“You better listen to your dad, Chris,” he says, “that’s his serious tone.”

Eddie throws a wadded up napkin at him while Christopher grins.

They clear the table so Chris can set up there with his book and his tablet, putting on his headphones, “so I can concentrate, duh”. Buck runs water in the sink and pulls on his floral gloves to wash the dishes, so Eddie settles in beside him to dry and puts things away. It’s as easy as it always is; he doesn’t have to think about where anything goes, doesn’t have to say a word for both of them to move around each other so he can get to the cabinet right next to the sink. Buck’s kitchen is as familiar a place as his own and Eddie—doesn’t really know what to do with that.

There’s been this itch under his skin lately—more than usual—an uncomfortable feeling that he should have been more honest with Pepa. That he should have just looked her in the eye and said, “It’s okay, I’m not lonely, I’m not stuck, you don’t have to worry about me because I have Buck and Chris.”

But there’s fear with the itch—what if she didn’t understand what he meant? What if she did, seeing right through him to all the things he’s too scared to put into words? Eddie isn’t sure which option makes him more anxious.

Buck drains the dishwater from the sink and goes to the fridge. He holds up a beer, a silent offering, but Eddie shakes his head. Buck grabs out the water pitcher instead, favouring his left hand when he reaches up to get two glasses to pour the water into. Eddie takes them without being asked, moving to the couch, and he hears the fridge door open and close one more time before Buck joins him with an ice pack in his hand. There’s enough space for them to spread out at each end, but he sits down in the middle of the couch and presses the ice pack against his shoulder with a sigh, sinking back against the cushions. It brings them even closer together, which. That’s probably just a coincidence.

“Overdid it a bit, huh?”

Buck groans. “Don’t tell Hen.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips: your secret is safe with me.

“You wanna take anything?” he asks, muscles half tensed to get up and grab the painkillers before Buck shakes his head.

“It’s not too bad,” he says, smiling reassuringly. “The meatballs were worth it, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pokes him in the stomach, smiling while Buck squirms away.

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” he teases. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you a glowing five-star review.”

“Shut up,” Buck complains, all laughter and no heat. “Was it as good as Bobby’s?”

“Not even close.”

Buck pokes him in retaliation, fingers digging in to tickle under Eddie’s ribs, and he chokes on a hastily-swallowed yelp. It comes out as an embarrassing wheezing-honk sound and Buck laughs so hard he has to abandon his assault on Eddie to clutch his own sides instead.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, tears in his eyes. “Ow.”

“That’s what you get,” Eddie tells him primly, but he reaches out and grabs the ice pack to hold it in place against Buck’s shoulder. Buck takes a deep breath, holding it, then releases it in another fit of giggles. Deep breath, hold it, hold it, giggles. It’s contagious; Eddie wants to laugh just because Buck is laughing. He’s happy, just because Buck is happy. If Buck was sad right now, he knows he’d be sad too, just because it’s Buck.

(“Does he know?” Frank asked six months ago.

“Know what?” Running his thumb nail up and down the grooves in his coffee cup instead of making eye contact.

“Eddie.”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes—sometimes I think he must because, how could he not? But he’s never said anything.”

“Well.” In that tone that meant Frank was about to say something completely reasonable and annoying. “Have you said anything?”

Eddie’s nail punched a hole through the cardboard cup and he cursed as warm coffee dribbled onto his pants. Buck would take one look at it when he got home and know that something had happened; Eddie could see the look on his face already, soft and concerned and so eager to make him feel better.

“No,” he finally answered. “I haven’t said anything.”

Frank made a sound—Eddie’s brain translated it to I can’t believe I’m being paid to deal with this lovesick idiot—and then he very reasonably, very annoyingly, suggested, “Maybe you should.”

Yeah. Spoiler alert: Eddie didn’t.)

“Hey,” he says, when the laughter has fizzled out, Buck slumped back against the couch with his eyes closed and Eddie closer than he really needs to be to keep the ice pack on his shoulder. It’s starting to numb his hand even with a tea towel wrapped around it, but he doesn’t let go. “Tell me the truth.”

A sound in the back of Buck’s throat, halfway to a question. Eddie wants to run his fingers through the curls that have been left loose after his post-shift shower. He wants to smooth the wrinkles in the front of Buck’s shirt, just to feel the beat of his heart underneath. He wishes Frank had never told him that he’s allowed to want things because now all he can think about is how much he wants Buck, all the time, in every way.

It’s dangerous: wanting things.

(“You don’t want to break your tia’s heart.”

“Or mine,” Vanessa said. “You get that, don’t you?”

And the way she looked at him—through him—like she could already see all the places where his heart was intertwined with someone else—

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I do.”)

“How are you really feeling?” he asks, hand curled in his lap so he doesn’t reach out.

Buck’s eyes open, his nose scrunching at the question.

“Tired,” he admits. “The carb crash is so real.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, more fond than annoyed. “Yeah, I’m sure it has nothing to do with being hurt, or calls keeping us up half the night.”

nothing to do with you dying not even two months ago

Buck pinches his thumb and index finger together, one eye squinted slightly. “Only a little hurt.”

A little is enough.

“I like it better when you’re not hurt at all,” Eddie tells him, and it’s not the first time he’s said those words, not even the second or the third, but something about the way Buck looks at him now—

Something about how close they are, and the family meal they just had, and Christopher mumbling to himself at the kitchen table—

Something Eddie can’t keep out of his voice and his eyes and his heart—

“Eds,” Buck says, little more than a breath, and Eddie knows—he knows—that if he leaned in and kissed him right now, Buck would kiss back.

He sits back instead. Reaches for the glass of water on the coffee table just so he can do something that isn’t stare lovingly into his best friend’s eyes. His skin itches and itches and itches.

“Eddie.” Stronger this time, fingers circling around Eddie’s wrist. “I’m okay.”

Eddie glances at Christopher—headphones still on, absorbed in his book report—and when he looks back, Buck’s eyes are wide and earnest. Eddie thinks about saying: you could so easily have not been okay. He thinks about saying: you don’t have to be okay all the time, not with me. He thinks about being brave—I love you—then shies away from it just as fast.

“Just—let us take care of you?”

Buck chews on his lip. More hesitant, Eddie thinks, than the question the deserves.

“I thought you had another date tonight,” he says eventually.

Aimee. A friend of a friend’s daughter who just moved to LA. She teaches kindergarten, Pepa told him. You’ll give her a chance, won’t you?

“I’ll cancel,” Eddie says, already preparing an apology to Pepa in his mind. “She’ll understand.”

Buck’s nose scrunches, like he doesn’t think she will, but he doesn’t fight it. “Okay,” he agrees, hand twitching up towards his shoulder, then falling back to his lap. “If you’re sure.”

Some days, Buck and Christopher are the only things Eddie is sure of.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, and he feels how fond it is but can’t bring himself to care if it shows his hand. “I’m sure.”

Buck smiles back, warm and soft, the whole moment fuzzy around the edges, and—

Eddie has that realisation again: if he leaned in and kissed him right now, Buck would kiss back. It would be so easy, he thinks, except for how it would be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.

“So,” he says instead, clinging to safer ground. “Meds?”

He raises his eyebrows and Buck sighs, head tipping back against the couch.

“Fine,” he tells the ceiling. “Half a dose.”

“And I’m cooking dinner,” Eddie adds, standing up, their hands touching for one electric second as Buck takes over holding the ice pack against his shoulder.

He sighs again, more put on this time. “You’re so bossy.”

Eddie grins, unable to resist poking. “Would you prefer I call Maddie to come look after you?”

It’s a joke—it’s always so easy to joke around with Buck—so it startles him, takes his breath away a little, when Buck’s answer comes thick with sincerity: “You’re better at it.”

You don’t know her the way he does, he told Buck once, Maddie’s absence and Chimney’s worry a gaping wound around them. And it’s not the same thing, it’s not like that at all—they’re not together like that—but here the words are, pushing into Eddie’s mind anyway. It’s an effort to shrug them away. An effort to keep his voice light as he answers, “Well, you’re pretty good at taking care of me too.”

Buck is beautiful when he smiles. Eddie shies away from that thought too as soon as it pops into his head—not for the first time, but increasingly more insistent every time it does.

“We make a good team,” Buck says, like it’s simple. Like it could always be that simple.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, that ever-present hope tightening its arms around him. “I guess we do.”

He doesn’t have to search to find the pain meds in Buck’s bathroom cabinet. They’re right there beside a spare pack of razors and a bottle of vitamin C that Buck restocks every time it expires but hardly ever uses, just like Eddie knew they would be. He used to tell himself that it didn’t mean anything, knowing his best friend’s apartment as well as he knows his own house. But every time they sit around that dining table and share a meal, he and Buck and Chris, a neat little family of three, it gets harder and harder to lie to himself.

Buck is right: they make a good team. One day, Eddie thinks he’ll be able to take a chance on that. Or maybe not much of a chance at all. A leap of faith, but the kind where his feet never leave the ground.

One day.

****

“So what did you tell her?” Buck asks later, dinner in the oven and the TV flickering blue light through the room while Chris decides what game they should play. “Your date. Did she understand?”

“I told her the truth,” Eddie answers easily.

It’s sitting there in his text thread: I think I’m in love with my best friend.

Buck nods, toggling with the joystick of his controller. “So you’re going to reschedule?”

“Nah.” Eddie knocks their elbows together, almost an accident. “I don’t think I will.”

Buck really is beautiful when he smiles. Eddie lets himself look this time—lets himself imagine what it might be like to kiss that smile away—and this time it doesn’t feel so dangerous. It’s just that same steady hum in the back of his mind that he always feels with Buck and Chris: safe safe safe.

(Loved loved loved loved.)

He thinks one day might not be too far away after all.

#Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #911 Fox #fic #badthingshappenbingo #lazy title for this one because I should definitely be sleeping rn #but enjoy these two being so dumb and so in love

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kcrossvine-art · 1 year

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Youre telling me a shimp fried this rice soup? No. But with your help it can, for just pennies a day. Today on the the Redwall Cookbook we're making Shrimp'N'Hotroot Soup.

(you may find the original recipe at the bottom if you’d like to follow along!)-

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Shrimp'N'Hotroot Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Unsalted butter

1 onion

2 leeks

Vegetable stock (or vegetable bouillon)

Milk

3 potatoes

Curry or chili powder

Salt and pepper

Pre-cooked shrimp or prawns

I also added parsley flakes and smoke paprika for serving. The recipe recommends crusty bread!

Crusty bread. Like garlic or a baguette.

Stale potato chips would prolly taste good if ur into that sorta thing.

AND, “what does Shrimp'N'Hotroot Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Of all the redwall dishes so far this one has the most distinct 'savory' flavor

Smooth, rich flavor

The veggies came out nicer than id thought and i think the simmering and then adding liquid let it seep in.

The seafood smells intense after an hour or so (serve immediately)

The powder and the milk kept separating and i wonder if stirring more or adding the milk earlier wouldve made it emulsify better?

You could strain and serve the contents without the soup part!

Would pair well with a smooth red wine and a 'naked' salad.

Shimp-shimp-shimp-shimp-a-doop

. Used almond milk where milk called for . Used curry powder . Used garlic bread

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Honestly feel free to just fuckin HEAP on the spices, in classic brit fashion, they have the tongues of arctic babies and you can barely taste the spice with the original portions given. The shrimp is understandably pre-cooked but as is they come out barely changed by the soup or spices, and if someone could tell me the reasoning behind not adding them earlier to soak up some of that good good stuff, id love to hear (genuine).

2 major points on this recipe; As its seafood, it does not keep well, you could maybe save it for later the same day. Beyond that youre playing with your life and it wont taste great. It is very fast to prepare (if you have prechopped veggies). Maybe 40 minutes from deciding to make it from having it in my belly, not counting veggie prep time as i did that the morning-of while reading.

So sorry for having this out late! I've been working on some projects like concept work for an upcoming indie TTRPG, commissions for folks DnD parties, and my own personal stuff. If it makes it up to yall, i did eat this on the 3rd of this month haha.

As much as I love seafood, unfortunately i dont make it much as its hard to store and can be finicky to prepare. This soup could be replaced with a few other centerpieces, or made vegetarian, but for how it is in the book- I give this recipe a solid 6/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again. 5 being average)

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 large onion, chopped

2 medium leeks, washed well and chopped

1 1/2 cups vegetable stock (or 1 1/2 cups water and 1/2 cube vegetable bouillon)

3 medium potatoes, peeled and chopped

1 teaspoon curry powder or chili powder, or to taste

Salt and pepper, to taste

8 ounces peeled, cooked shrimp or prawns, sliced if large

1 cup milk

Method:

In a large pot over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the onion and leeks and cook, stirring, until soft, about 5 minutes (do not let the vegetables brown).

Add the vegetable stock, potatoes, curry or chili powder, and salt and pepper. Cover and simmer until the potatoes are very soft, 15 to 20 minutes.

Add the shrimp and milk and gently heat. Serve with crusty bread.

#cross cooks redwall #digital art #fantasy

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mariacallous · 4 months

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When you think of Eastern European Jewish cuisine, which words come to mind? Light? Healthy? Plant based? Probably not. Heavy, homey and meat-centric are more like it.

Fania Lewando died during the Holocaust, but had she been given the full length of her years, Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine may have taken a turn to the vegetarian side and we might all be eating vegetarian kishke and spinach cutlets in place of brisket.

Lewando is not a household name. In fact, she would have been lost to history had it not been for an unlikely turn of events. Thanks to a serendipitous find, her 1937 work, “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook” (“Vegetarish-Dietisher Kokhbukh”in Yiddish), was saved from oblivion and introduced to the 21st century.

Vilna in the 1930s, where Lewando and her husband Lazar made their home, was a cosmopolitan city with a large Jewish population. Today, it is the capital of Lithuania but it was then part of Poland. Lewando opened a vegetarian eatery called The Vegetarian Dietetic Restaurant on the edge of the city’s Jewish quarter. It was a popular spot among both Jews and non-Jews, as well as luminaries of the Yiddish-speaking world. (Even renowned artist Marc Chagall signed the restaurant’s guest book.)

Lewando was a staunch believer in the health benefits of vegetarianism and devoted her professional life to promoting these beliefs. She wrote: “It has long been established by the highest medical authorities that food made from fruit and vegetables is far healthier and more suitable for the human organism than food made from meat.” Plus, she wrote, vegetarianism satisfies the Jewish precept of not killing living creatures.

We know little about her life other than she was born Fania Fiszlewicz in the late 1880s to a Jewish family in northern Poland. She married Lazar Lewando, an egg merchant from what is today Belarus and they eventually made their way to Vilna. They did not have children.

Lewando, to quote Jeffrey Yoskowitz, author of “The Gefilte Manifesto” was “a woman who challenged convention;” a successful entrepreneur, which was a rarity among women of the time. She supervised a kosher vegetarian kitchen on an ocean liner that traveled between Poland and the United States, and gave classes on nutrition to Jewish women in her culinary school.

“The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook” was sold in Europe and the U.S. in Lewando’s day, but most of the copies were lost or destroyed during the Second World War. In 1995, a couple found a copy of the cookbook at a second-hand book fair in England. They understood the importance of a pre-war, Yiddish-language, vegetarian cookbook written by a woman, so purchased it and sent it to the YIVO Institute’s offices in New York. There, it joined the millions of books, periodicals and photos in YIVO’s archives.

It was discovered again by two women who visited YIVO and were captivated by the book’s contents and colorful artwork. They had it translated from Yiddish to English so it could be enjoyed by a wider audience.

Like many Ashkenazi cooks, salt was Lewando’s spice, butter her flavor and dill her herb. The book is filled with dishes you’d expect: kugels and blintzes and latkes; borscht and many ways to use cabbage. There’s imitation gefilte fish and kishke made from vegetables, breadcrumbs, eggs and butter. Her cholent (a slow-cooked Sabbath stew) recipes are meat-free, including one made with prune, apple, potatoes and butter that is a cross between a stew and a tzimmes.

There are also some surprises.

Did you know it was possible to access tomatoes, eggplants, asparagus, lemons, cranberries, olive oil, Jerusalem artichokes, blueberries and candied orange peel in pre-war Vilna? There’s a French influence, too, such as recipes for mayonnaise Provencal and iles flottante, a meringue-based dessert, and a salad of marinated cornichons with marinated mushrooms.

“It’s hard to know who the target audience was for this cookbook,” said Eve Jochnowitz, its English-language translator. “We know from contemporary memoirs that people in Vilna did not have access to these amazing amounts of butter, cream and eggs,” she said. “Lewando was writing from a somewhat privileged and bourgeois position.” While many of these recipes may have been aspirational given the poverty of the Jews at the time, the cookbook demonstrates that it was possible to obtain these ingredients in Vilna, should one have the resources to do so.

While the cookbook is filled with expensive ingredients, there is also, said Jochnowitz, “a great attention to husbanding one’s resources. She was ahead of her time in the zero-waste movement.” Lewando admonishes her readers to waste nothing. Use the cooking water in which you cooked your vegetables for soup stock. Use the vegetables from the soup stock in other dishes. “Throw nothing out,” she writes in the cookbook’s opening essay. “Everything can be made into food.” Including the liquid from fresh vegetables; Lewando instructed her readers on the art of vitamin drinks and juices, with recipes for Vitamin-Rich Beet Juice and Vitamin-Rich Carrot Juice. “This was very heroic of her,” said Jochnowitz. “There were no juice machines! You make the juice by grating the vegetables and then squeezing the juice out by hand.”

Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, a Jewish scholar and Jewish cookbook collector, describes Lewando as “witty.” “She is showing us,” she said, “that once you eliminate meat and fish, you still have an enormous range of foods you can prepare.” Lewando is about “being creative, imaginative and innovative both with traditional dishes and with what she is introducing that is remote from the traditional repertoire.” She does that in unexpected ways. Her milchig (dairy) matzah balls, for example, have an elegance and lightness to them. She instructs the reader to make a meringue with egg whites, fold in the yolks, then combine with matzah meal, melted butter and hot water. Her sauerkraut salad includes porcini mushrooms. One of her kugels combines cauliflower, apples, sliced almonds and candied orange peel.

There is much that, through contemporary eyes, is missing in “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook.” The recipes do not give step-by-step instructions; rather you will find general directions. Heating instructions are vague, ranging from a “not-too-hot-oven” to a “warm oven” to a “hot oven.” Lewando assumes the reader’s familiarity with the kitchen that today’s cookbook writer would not.

Lewando and her husband were listed in the 1941 census of the Vilna Ghetto but not in the census of 1942. It is believed that they both died or were killed while attempting to escape. “She really was a visionary,” said Jochnowitz. “It is an unbearable tragedy that she did not live to see the future that she predicted and helped to bring about.”But in cooking her recipes, said Yoskowitz, as dated and incomplete as some of them may be, the conversation between then and now continues.

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luveline · 2 years

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Hi lovely could I request a baby blurb ? I was thinking one where the reader is super stressed with work and comes home and Steve’s cooking dinner ( she usually cooks) because he knows how stressed she is I love your writing so much always so cute and fluffy!

he is a babe and i love him !! tysm ♡ fem!reader | 0.6k

It's your turn to cook today. Which is fine – you don't mind sharing the chores with Steve, it keeps everything from building up. Plus, you love him, love living with him. It's just one of those things you have to do.

But you're so tired. Work demands your undivided attention while you're there and at least half while you're home lately. It's fine and you can handle it but it's so so heavy; you're trying to do things in your head days before you have to and now you need to go home and think of what to make with what's left in the pantry. Which is, like, a fucking millennium equation with no proof in sight.

"What can I make with a freezer full of vegetables and a quarter pound of rice? And spaghetti?" you mutter to yourself dryly as you open the door.

It takes less than a second for your nose to twitch. "Steve?" you call, perplexed.

"Yeah, hey!" You round the banister and trudge into the kitchen. Steve sees you and beams. He's wearing soft clothes and has a tea towel thrown over his shoulder. "Hey," he sing-songs.

"Hi," you mumble, your lips quickly squished against his, your greeting lost. His is a better one anyway.

It's a quick kiss but as comforting as they always tend to be. He pulls your face from his and rubs the highest point of your cheek before turning back to the burner, where he's hard at work.

"What are you making?" you ask weakly.

He nods towards a faded cookbook splayed open on the countertop and stirs the pot with a wooden spoon. "Minestrone."

You walk on light footing to peer into the cookbook, cautious, as though reading the recipe will make it less real. You smooth a fingertip down the page and can't bring yourself to look at him when you say, "It was my turn to make dinner tonight."

"I know. But… you know- you've been so overwhelmed at work, and I used all the good shit yesterday. I knew it was gonna be a jigsaw puzzle."

"I was thinking a millennium problem."

"Those math things?"

You laugh under your breath and turn away from the book, leaning back on your hands. "Thanks, Stevie."

"It's only dinner."

You raise your eyebrows and he raises his back. You spend a few seconds in limbo then, unstoppable force meets immovable object. Steve abruptly glares at you, his gaze accusing. "Oh, I get it. You don't think I can make dinner two nights in a row."

You meet his joke with your own deadpan. "Nope," you say, popping the 'p'.

"You're in for it, babygirl."

You try to hide how silly happy the pet name makes you but Steve knows you well. His brows soften, his lips part.

"I can make dinner all week, if it's what you need," he says carefully. "All month."

You push off of the counter and slide over the cold kitchen tile until your standing by his side. He peers down at you, assessing.

"Thank you," your throat burns with how much you mean it, "but I- I'll be okay. I have you."

He bumps his hip into yours. You look at him and he looks at you, the two of you smiling like fools.

"You wanna try the soup?" he asks.

"Is it good?"

"No," he says without missing a beat. You stare at each other and then burst into roaring laughter.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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rileythelonelyalien · 2 years

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Dottore x GN! Reader (Baking)

A/N: This is a fluff Dottore fic , in this fic the reader is making cookies for the harbingers for their next meeting but some clones come to help you out !

Lol i hope you enjoy the fic , it might be a bit longer than my usual fics but not by too much ! This fic may be a little rushed so i apologise if the plot seems to go by a little bit too quickly at the end.

You had recently heard from your lover that the harbingers will be holding yet another meeting, you knew that their meeting lasted for quite a few hours and it certainly wouldn't be any good for any of their stomachs to be low on food for such a long time , especially your lover he tended to get hangry when running on an empty stomach. Thus you had decided to take matters into your own hands , you were going to bake some goods which you'll take to the meeting room beforehand so that all of the harbingers would be able to help themselves to whatever they fancied.

As you got to the kitchen you got out the white and blue striped apron, of which was gifted to you by Dottore, out of a cupboard where it was neatly folded waiting to be used. You smile as you put the apron on, tying it around your waist. You start out by retrieving all of the ingredients you’d know you'd need by memory. Wandering from cupboard to cupboard you set each ingredient down on your workspace: flour , self raising flour , vanilla extract , soda bicarbonate , eggs, milk, and many more. As you set down the last of the ingredients you notice in your peripherals that two figures had stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, slowly you lift your gaze to determine just who it was standing there. Yet you are met with two familiar faces , you could feel a smile pull at your lips as you face them. It was some of your lovers' clones , specifically omega and number 6 , although you don't call the clone by their number you felt like it was too cold. He was still the same Dottore, just younger , thus you just called him Dottore when not around prime. You raise your hand and give them a wave before you greet them ‘Hello you two , what brings you to the kitchen?’. The two of them look at each other before the omega Dottore responds ‘well we have finished our duties so the both of us decided to wander around , we were not expecting to find you here however, although I must say it was a pleasant surprise~’ With the last comment the Omega Dottore's lips curl up into a wry smile. You wave your hand at this statement ‘alright , alright , well if you two have definitely finished your work and have nothing to do why not help me out with this?’ you bring their attention to the ingredients neatly laid out on your work surface. Both the clones' expressions immediately lit up as soon as they heard that they could help you out , they got to spend time with you without the interference of prime? You can count them in!

As the two Dottore’s were putting on their aprons as instructed by you , you had brought out a large notebook that served as a cookbook filled with recipes you have collected. Before you begun flicking through the pages you made sure to have a quick look at the clones to make sure they were not goofing about too much , you had to restrain your laughter when you realised that the younger of the two had put on the apron which in bold lettering said ‘KISS THE COOK’. Before they could catch you , your gaze quickly reverts back to the recipe book. You delicately hold each page looking carefully at what you had written down , searching for the first food that you wanted to cook : cookies! Absent-mindedly as you turn the pages you hum to yourself to fill the silence within the kitchen. Whilst you hummed to yourself you failed to see just how the Dottore's react to this , although one of the clone masks covered his eyes both of their expressions immediately softened at the sound of your voice, physically melting at how much they admired you and everything you do. Although the younger one was still a new clone relatively speaking , he hadn't even heard you like this he couldn't help but inch closer to you now standing by your side revelling in the sounds that escaped your lips. The older clone did not seem to take too kindly to this however he made his way to your other side just so that he could have an excuse to be so close to you once again.

‘Ah!’ You exclaim, startling the two beside you as you set your finger on the recipe you were looking for, you turn to where you last saw the clones to see that they were no longer there. It did not take long to realise that both were at either side of you. A smile creeps onto your face ‘My, my, excited to cook, are we?’ you let out a chuckle. Leaving both of the clones' faces to flush a shade brighter. You set up the scales and all the other equipment needed in order to make these cookies. You had tasked the older clone to weigh out each ingredient according to the recipe and the younger clone to collect any other ingredients that you may have missed out when retrieving them earlier. Each Dottore took their job quite seriously , perhaps even a bit too seriously, as you turn back to the older Dottore you see him carefully weighing out the flour to be the exact amount down to the micro gram ‘ Ah! Dot , you do not need to be that precise my sweet , it's only baking you're allowed to go a few grams above or below nothing bad will come from it I promise! It's not necessary to be so accurate like in the science you do’ You send him a soft smile. However he is so focused his only reply is a small huff , this was a mistake on his part as the flour came right back at him with the huff and coated his face and mask. He stops what he's doing before going to let out a deep sigh but he catches himself before doing so as to not receive another gust of flour his way. You couldn't help but laugh at this adorable scenario , he brings his face to look up removing his mask letting his deep red eyes fall upon your laughing face , his eyes soften at the sight as he could feel the heat rise up to his face causing him to blush. Abruptly he clears his throat as he attempts to change the focus of the situation ‘Right my darling , well I have weighed out the flour ,milk , butter , and sugar for you so what shall we do next?’ The smile doesn't leave your face as you place a kiss on his cheek ‘Thank you ! Right now we can start with making some great cookies’ As you turn toward the work surface again the older Dottore brings his hand up to the cheek that you had kissed , almost dazed at your sudden affection , he continued to watch you with a loving gaze as you continued on with the recipe.

You talk through the steps as you proceed , mostly just for yourself so that you do not forget at what stage of the recipe you were at but also just for the clones just in case they were making a mental note of it , just in case they wanted to bake without you around. Just before the dough has been fully mixed into a cookie dough consistency , you take the whisk out of the bowl and wipe some of the batter off onto your finger and then proceed to put it in your mouth ‘mmm! this batter tastes good, these cookies are going to be great for sure!’ you state to yourself. This seemingly innocent act from you seemed to get a rise out of the two clones who were watching you intently on either side of you , seeing you stick your finger into your mouth made them think of … less than pure thoughts. However they are very quickly brought out of their own filthy minds when you ask them if they wanted to taste the batter too.

Each of the clones oblige as they too try some of the batter both enjoying the rich flavours of the cookies. After sampling the cookie batter , you continue to mix so that the batter will be able to reach the correct consistency. Although the more you mix the more difficult it gets to move the whisk through the dough, your arms begin to feel tired the further you mix. Soon you feel a pair of warm hands wrap around yours as you feel the younger clone's body slightly press up against your back as he guides your arms when stirring the dough. ‘I hope you don't mind my dove , you just seemed like you needed the help , I don't like to see you struggle in such a way’ Dottore gently speaks into your ear as he continues to gently hold his hands over yours. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face as the intimacy of this moment finally settles in. Yet unfortunately as soon as it began, the moment was over as the batter reached the correct consistency. You curtly thank Dottore for being so helpful and he proceeds to point at his cheek , you stare at him before realising what he was asking for. You smile at how coy the younger Dottore was being before reaching up and kissing his cheek , leaving him to smile and giggle to himself in delight.

After all the shenanigans of cooking and preparing the cookies , there they were laying on a plate arranged by you with a handwritten note in the middle by you to all the harbingers , you hoped that they would enjoy the cookies that you and the Dottore’s had baked for them. The only thing left to do was to set them down on the table in the harbingers meeting room before they arrive , hopefully no mishaps will occur along the way.

#dottore x reader #genshin impact #dottore #genshin dottore #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin fandom #genshin x reader #dottore fluff

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felassan · 6 months

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Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas lore post Part 2

This post is part 2 of 2. [Link to Part 1]

(Post contents under a cut, in case anyone would rather not read cookbook spoilers. also due to post length)

If I have forgotten, misread or misunderstood something, please let me know.

This post is complementary to Part 1, so please see Part 1. The first post contains some other information, such as a full list of what culture[s]/area[s] each dish comes from, a full list of all in-world ingredients mentioned and notes on the worldstate that the cookbook was written in. The lore collected in this post is just a general note of lore mentioned in the cookbook, so it contains both old/previously known lore, and new lore from the cookbook. There is a bit of repetition in places where a piece of lore made sense in include in multiple categories.

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[Devon/mom mentions from blurbs]

Devon, their mother and the cookbook

The cookbook introduces a new character called Devon, who is the narrator, writer and compiler of the cookbook in-world. Devon is now an adult, and their mother was the cook for the Couslands at Castle Cousland (implied to be Nan from the Human Noble origin). In their youth Devon helped their mother out in the kitchen, undertaking chores like sweeping the floor. They also helped cook from time to time (which their mother approved of and expressed pride to them over). They were child-like and a dreamer, often daydreaming about going off on a grand adventure and engaging in acts of heroism, and getting into trouble from their mother due to this. They did not used to be very adept in the kitchen and at one time almost set Castle Cousland on fire with their first attempt at a stew. Since then they have been practising cooking extensively and are now a good cook. Their mother taught them the important lesson of love through food. Devon is very much their mother's child, and loves food.

The position of Cousland family cook is implied to no longer exist. Devon's mother is implied to have now passed away. (and in game Nan dies during Howe's Treachery)

Devon's mother nearly lost her mind trying to keep the Hero of Ferelden's mabari out of her larder. Similar to this, falling 'prey' to a nug's cute face once resulted in a nug (which are voracious omnivores) in Devon's kitchen eating lots of their food, and Devon discovering first-hand how voracious they can be in their efforts.

Devon has a desire to see all of Thedas and as an adult recently embarked on a journey to travel throughout Thedas in order to see and experience its different types of food, in order to honor and thank their mother. This was a year-long journey involving many weeks on the road, with the occasional encounter with bandits and beasts. They travelled by carriage and on foot.

Devon travelled throughout Thedas, including Nevarra, Orzammar, Tevinter, Ferelden, Orlais, Antiva, Rivain and among the Avvar. They met and spoke to various key characters including Varric, Sera, Krem and Bull's Chargers, and sampled every local cuisine they could get their hands on, even the downright strange. They filled their book with different recipes and thought of their mother with each new entry, in order to share them and the lesson their mother taught them with the rest of the world. Some of their recipes are based on these conversations. Others are Devon's mothers recipes or Devon's own recipes/experimentations with other foods.

Devon is something of a fan of the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke and the Inquisitor (especially the HoF) and displays a child-like excitement for the world. On their journey they tracked down foods eaten by the heroes and their companions. Devon's hero worship of the PCs and their companions was part of their motivation for their journey.

Devon's mother often had her hands full with the Cousland's meals.

Devon's mother had a recipe for Chocolate Cake. She baked it for Devon's tenth name-day and then at their every name-day after that as Devon always begged for this. To this day when Devon thinks about their mother's love for them, this cake sits front and center in their mind. The Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup included in the book is also hers, though for the book Devon put their own little twist on it, using crispy toasted chickpeas from Rivain for the crunch rather than a side of toasted bread. Devon loves stews and their mother's stews will always rule their heart (the recipe for King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew comes close to stealing that crown). Devon's mother always knew that there is no greater comfort than a warm slice of cobbler, and the simple pleasure of her baking would wash away all of Devon's troubles from the day when they ate some in her kitchen (it's hard to feel the sting of a skinned knee or a lost game when your belly is full of warm gooey goodness). Devon's mother usually made her cobblers with strawberries and rhubarb, but only the stems not the leaves as those are poisonous.

Devon's mother was kind and indulged her child, whom she loved.

Devon likes hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and dusted with cinnamon.

Devon loves sweets and desserts.

Tea is a nice accompaniment for sweet treats. Tea exists in many blends. Devon likes deciding which biscuit to pair with different blends.

Once when young Devon tripped and fell face-first into a patch of nettles. They cried and got a lecture from their mother, telling them to play elsewhere from then on. Also when Devon was young, they were very reluctant to eat their greens/vegetables. But their mother always used to say that you can't only live off meat, and any meal without vegetables is a meal half-finished. They didn't understand her reasoning then, but they do now. Ever since hearing Leliana kept a nug as a pet, Devon has desperately longed for a Schmooples of their own. Another lesson their mother taught them is that sides form an equal part of the equation in a meal to the main part of it, and that they deserve just as much care and attention as the dish they are served alongside.

Ferelden

Fereldans - including their mabari - love cheese and bacon.

Barley is a common grain grown in Ferelden. In Ferelden grain is usually barley or wheat. Rice is very rare in Ferelden.

Hearty Fereldan Scones are hearty, packed with cheese and bacon, and keep a person sated for a good while. They are less sweet and less delicate than their counterparts (referring to Orlesian scones?). Mabari like them due to the cheese and bacon content.

Pickled Eggs taste salty-sour and are a very common Fereldan folk remedy, 'prescribed' by them for almost anything, including fevers, colds, aching body parts and when you feel a bit of illness coming on (sounds like chicken soup in parts of our world hh ^^). If asked for advice on health or when they meet someone who looks a bit under the weather, many Fereldans recommend and provide pickled eggs. When Cullen was experiencing lyrium withdrawals, Fereldan members of the Inquisition left a heap of pickled eggs in his office. whether this actually works or not we don't know. Still, loving pickled eggs is a Fereldan trait and they are considered one of the country's finest snacks.

In Orlais, City and Dalish elves eat Peasant Bread, which is a rustic, hearty type of bread with a straightforward recipe that calls for wheat, salt and grease in nearly equal parts. This produces a biscuit that is good for mopping up last bits of stew and pairing with butter and jam. Devon remarks that this biscuit is reminiscent of Fereldan cuisine.

Fereldans love stews; people, including Fereldans themselves, joke about this often. The three key aspects of any good Fereldan stew are that it's hearty, humble and straightforward to make.

Devon assures the reader that Fereldans don't actually cook their ingredients until they're all "a uniform grey color", contrary to what Alistair once said. They do however throw them into the largest pot they can find, with the rationale being that if you're going to make a stew, you might as well make a lot of it.

Lamb and Pea Stew is hearty, humble, and straightforward to make. This dish is so ubiquitous in Ferelden that it's almost become synonymous with Fereldan cuisine.

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup is a Fereldan staple and Fereldans enjoy it regularly. It's more solid than liquid, filled to the brim with cabbage, tomatoes and other vegetables, and is paired with a thick slice of bread. This makes it a filling, satisfying and warming meal, especially on cold days.

A troupe of actors in Orlais focus on a popular comedy set in the fictional Fereldan village of Wilkshire Downs. Their performances sell out almost instantly. In order to play their roles well, and out of dedication for their craft, the actors changed their diets to match those of their characters. For example, there's a mayor character who specifically only eats cabbage soup (bear in mind this is Orlesians trying to get in 'Fereldan character').

Nug Bacon and Egg Pie is a traditional Fereldan farmer's pie.

Fereldan ale is soothing and relatively easy on the stomach, compared to something like a Hissing Drake.

Fereldans love turnips and enthuse about them. Turnips make a good addition to any stews and are also good in pies. They're versatile and can be prepared in many ways (boiled, stir-fried, roasted, steamed, mashed, eaten raw, etc). Turnip and Mutton Pie is a classic Fereldan dish served at taverns across the country. It's an unmatched, rich comfort food that is good on cold or miserable days. Even the smell is comforting. It consists of tender chunks of lamb and turnip enveloped by buttery crust. Cole once evoked this sense of comfort by throwing a bushel of turnips into a fire.

Kirkwall

Crab Cakes is a classic Kirkwall dish.

The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew is a famous dish from this Kirkwall tavern, and its feature dish. It's made from a different meat every morning, such as pork or something more suspicious/less appetizing. The waitress at the tavern claims that they hang people who ask what meat it is from the rafters.

Roasted Turkey With Sides is found in Starkhaven, Kirkwall and the Free Marches in general. This dish is common at birthday celebrations and dinner parties. The turkey is cooked til golden-brown and surrounded by a host of different sides, creating an impressive scene. This meal is complicated, difficult and time-consuming to prepare. The turkey alone can take hours to do. If a few sides are involved it can take most of the day, especially without kitchen staff. This meal is meant to be shared.

Orlais

A common feature of Orlesian cuisine is lots of cream.

Creamy soups seem to be emblematic of Orlesian cuisine.

Some strong/hot combinations of spices are a bit much for Orlesian palates, which are more delicate than others.

Lately in the Grey Wardens, a new variation of the Grey Warden Pastry Pockets (pastries stuffed with meat, potatoes and onion) recipe was introduced by new recruits from Orlais, which uses the more delicate Orlesian puff pastry. These newer pastries are delicious hot or cold but can't really be stored anywhere where they may be jostled as they will get mushed, unlike the original version of the recipe, which was tougher so as not to fall apart in packs when on the road.

Honey Carrots is an Orlesian staple, often found on the table at meal times in Orlais. The traditional Orlesian rendition of this dish is sweet due to liberal application of honey, implying that outside of Orlais other takes on this dish are less sweet with less honey due to differing palates/cuisine styles (since Orlesian standards run sweet).

"Blancmange" is an Orlesian word which literally translates as "white eating". The dish Blancmange is white pudding made with either milk or heavy cream that has been thickened. On its own it has a sweetness that is mild by Orlesian standards; it's generally served with various toppings which amplify the sweet flavors. Possible toppings include red grape compôte, toasted almonds, ribbons of fresh mango and cherry sauce (the latter is Devon's preference). Alone blancmange is plain-looking so the toppings are also a way to decorate it with various designs.

Vivienne's preferred arrangement of Blancmange is a stunning, elegant, pristine white-on-white tableau of white chocolate curls and whole jasmine flowers, served on a dark plate for contrast.

Orlesian dinner parties are long indulgent slews of extravagance. Not finishing all of the courses may be perceived as being rude to the host or taken by them as offensive.

Orlesian desserts often include sugar and cream.

Sour Cherries in Cream is an Orlesian dessert composed of a small bowl filled with black cherries dressed in sweet cherry sauce and whipped cream. This dish is an example of one which is lighter fare than usual for Orlesian cuisine, and may be eaten as the last course of an extensive dinner party (as even the Orlesians are sometimes in need of lighter fare).

The Orlesians know how to make a good pastry.

Croissants are the most well-known Orlesian pastry. They are a lot of work to make. To achieve their famous flaky texture, dough is layered with butter and then rolled (with a rolling pin) and folded several times over, before being rolled into a thin sheet.

In Orlais, City Elves and Dalish Elves eat Peasant Bread, a rustic, hearty type of bread with a straightforward recipe that calls for wheat, salt and grease in nearly equal parts. This produces a biscuit that is good for mopping up last bits of stew and pairing with butter and jam. Devon remarks that the biscuit is reminiscent of Fereldan cuisine.

Tevinter

A mysterious, strange, impossible-to-identify meat is often served in taverns across Tevinter, often with a big portion of Nevarran flat bread. It's something of a tall tale. Devon ordered a portion, wondering what exotic species it could be, and it turned out to be delicious chicken legs.

Stuffed Vine Leaves is a classic Tevinter appetizer sold in taverns there. Tender leaves are stuffed with rice, herbs and sometimes minced meat. Devon recommends topping it with lemon juice and some tzatziki sauce.

Dorian loves chocolate-coated orange peels, colloquially known as "Poison Stings". They are sweet, sour, crunchy, chewy and energizing. Dorian ate these a lot on his travels from Tevinter to Ferelden to join the Inquisition.

Cherry Cupcakes are decadent little pink cakes served alongside other sweets by servants on stilts at the Tevinter theater. The servants carry them to each private box. The cakes both taste and look good. They were once used as a vehicle for deadly poisons.

Tevinter Pumpkin Bread is one of Dorian's favorite foods. They are wonderful treats with limited ingredients, and can be made in a pan.

Starkhaven

Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie is famous, almost oval in shape and stuffed full of fish from the Minanter River. It has a light flaky crust.

Starkhaven is beautiful, almost oval in shape, sits perched on the Minanter River and is crowned with solid rings of tall, gray stone. It has lavish estates and fountains. Minanter River fish are implied to be common in Starkhaven cuisine and trade.

Prince Sebastian Vael has high popularity.

Free Marches

Nevarra

The gardens of Nevarra are extremely beautiful, dazzling in their vibrancy.

In Nevarran culture, food is as much a feast for the eyes as for the mouth. They create artful and aesthetically pleasing food arrangements. Nevarrans like their dishes to be pleasing to the eye, and take this into account when cooking.

Nevarran flat bread goes from dough to ready to eat in minutes, contrasting other methods of making bread which involve baking loaves for hours. It can be eaten in many ways, including on its own, brushed with oil, or as a vehicle for an assortment of dips such as yogurt dip.

Antiva

Antivan cuisine includes pasta.

Dinnertime is usually a late-night affair in Antiva.

Rice is not seen much outside of Antiva and Rivain. Antiva exports very little of its rice. Due to this, in Antiva it's relatively cheap compared to other grains and is a key component in dishes favored by less well off Antivans. Crow Feed is a simple, cheap and delicious dish of rice, butter and onions, named after the Antivan Crows.

Fish Chowder is a classic Antivan dish. It's a thick creamy soup that evokes Antiva City.

Pickpockets seem to be common in Antiva/Antiva City, as Devon includes them alongside corrupt politicians and Antivan leather when referencing Zevran's homesickness for the place and creating an image in the mind's eye of Antiva.

Antivan meals "sure are something to behold". Antivan nobles have decadent, indulgent spreads for dinner involving lots of courses. Such dinners can have ten dishes, full of ingredients like olives, truffles, pasta and cream.

Gnocchi is a filling Antivan dish, with small pieces made of wheat, flour, egg salt and potato. It may be dressed with leeks and rich cheese sauce.

Being bordered by the Rialto Bay to the east, Antiva is mostly populated on the coast. Because of this seafood plays a starring role in Antivan cuisine. The classic Antivan paella exemplifies this, consisting of rice, saffron and a variety of seafood, from whole shrimp to cuttlefish to mussels. It's made in a single pot and the end result is aromatic. It's traditionally cooked in a shallow, wide pan called a paellera (or confusingly, in some parts of Antiva, a paella) but can be prepared in almost any deep skillet. It's best paired with a glass of wine, preferably an Antivan vintage. Josie recommends doing this. :)

Cacio e Pepe is a classic, simple Antivan dish among its rich and poor alike. It's composed of three main ingredients - pasta, cheese and pepper. Despite its simplicity it's hard to make correctly. The sauce has to be smooth, not clumpy, which is a surprisingly difficult task. However the skill of making it can be learned with practise and perseverance. Antivan grandmothers may sternly judge their young family members' attempts at making it correctly, only approving when it's just right.

Treviso is a port city in northern Antiva that was captured and liberated several times during the Qunari Wars and the New Exalted Marches. During the dark times of occupation, food was scarce, and the city residents had to make do with what limited ingredients they had. From their creativity in these times Treviso Energy Balls were born. These combine peanut butter, nuts and dried fruit into a bite-sized treat that contains lots of energy. They are ideal to take with you when hiking.

Antivan Apple Grenade is an Antivan dessert (sweet pastry bundles filled with piping-hot apple) named for resembling the fire grenades used by the Antivan Crows, both in shape and in heat.

Rivain

Rivaini cuisine includes couscous (a sort of pasta made with semolina flour and water, a lot smaller than typical Antivan pasta). Couscous sounds like it is not common or even known at all in the south. It has a mild slightly nutty flavor on its own and excels in soaking up surrounding flavors, making it a great base for salads.

Rice is not seen much outside of Antiva and Rivain.

Chickpeas come from Rivain.

In Rivain, a Goat Custard recipe is very popular as a dessert. The custard is made from goat's milk and studded with roasted figs to add sweetness to the overall richness. Milk from the Ayesleigh gulabi goat is particularly prized by custard connoisseurs in Thedas due to its natural sweetness, which when used in this recipe enhances the sweet flavors.

The classic Rivaini Tea Blend is probably the most famous tea blend in Thedas. It's a mixture of peppermint, lemon verbena, oregano and licorice root. This combination is soothing and said to have healing properties. Celene of Orlais drinks this tea throughout the day to alleviate headaches.

Anderfels

Smoked Ham from the Anderfels doesn't actually taste of despair, contrary to what rumors and the importers say. The Anderfels are largely ill-suited for farming, but pigs do surprisingly well there despite the inhospitable climate. Due to this Anderfels ham is big and is delicious when glazed. Devon favors a glaze made from a combination of apples and apricots. One glaze in particular is made from wildflowers and can turn a smoked ham as hard as jade, rendering it unsuitable for eating.

Seheron

Seheron smells like tea, incense and the sea.

Seheron Fish Pockets are hot due to a combination of spices, but the heat is tempered somewhat by the soft wrap and crisp vegetables. (They are a group favorite food of Bull's Chargers). The fish involved is packed with flavor and the pockets fall apart if eaten haphazardly. Devon learned this recipe from one of Bull's Chargers.

Avvar

The Avvar are gatherers as well as hunters.

When Avvar can't hunt gurguts and wyverns, they go for smaller prey and forage for alternative food items such as snails, which are common on hillside boulders. Snails are an abundant and traditional source of food for the Avvar. When prepared correctly the texture and flavor are good. It sounds like the Avvar usually eat them without accompanying ingredients such as salad. They can be dressed in butter and oil. They aren't common in Lowlander cuisine and many Lowlanders are unconvinced on eating/trying them.

Many Avvar settlements populate the Frostbacks. In spring Avvar begin preparing for the following winter by smoking meat, picking vegetables and drying fruit. Springtime is the gurgut's mating season. At this time especially travelers are advised to keep their distance from gurguts, as they're dangerous.

Lowlander spices are prized among the Avvar and often reserved for feasts as rare delicacies.

The Avvar are generally utilitarian in their cooking methods, with lots of stews. Holds by lakes and rivers have a unique way of cooking fish. Instead of using a pan, the fish is wrapped in pungent leaves and salt then left baking all day over banked coals. Like stews, this method of cooking does not require constant attention. The salt helps keep moisture inside the fish, which turns the flesh creamy and tender. Cracking the salt open is good fun.

Avvar live on whatever they can glean from the land owing to living in the inhospitable Frostbacks. They hunt all kinds of beasts, including harts, rams, lurkers, gurguts and sometimes even wyverns. Wyvern can be delicious but if not prepared correctly are very poisonous. Correct preparation involves following detailed instructions.

Chasind

Chasind love poussin, a good alternative to roast turkey though significantly smaller in size. The Chasind typically cook it in a large pot over an open fire for an extended period of time. A similar effect can be achieved with any other cookware of suitable size and an oven. The secret to tender meat that falls off the bone is marinating and basting it to keep it moist during the cooking process. Devon recommends grilled poussin for more intimate dinner parties with smaller guest lists.

Chasind drink Chasind Wildwine and Chasind Sack Mead. Both are strong, even brutal. The flavor of the sack mead is almost poetic. First there is an overwhelming rush of honey, tinged with the sour-sweetness of apple blossoms, that fills the mouth with all the bright warmth of a summer's day. The initial sweetness then fades and there comes an unexpected bitterness, reminiscent of the slow decay into fall. The drink is therefore like the turning of the seasons in a single cup/sack.

Dalish Elves

Preserved foods play an important role in many different cultures across Thedas, including the Dalish. They help communities weather times of scarcity (e.g. in winter) and allow people to make long journeys away from home.

Dalish hunters take preserved foods such as Spiced Jerky with them on their hunts as provisions so that they can bring back game the clan is depending on. It means they won't be hungry and don't have to be back in time for dinner. Due to how long it lasts, Devon wonders if Spiced Jerky is used in offerings made by certain Dalish to Fen'Harel. His shrines are usually located well outside of Dalish camps, but Devon posits that leaving behind food that would readily spoil would be bad practise, especially given the fact that the prevailing opinion on these shrines is to avoid them.

Dalish make Hearth Cakes as comfort food. They are traditionally made over the hearth on an iron griddle or skillet, hence the name. The original recipe calls for halla butter but other types of butter work just as well. The resulting dough stays moist inside but crisp and flaky on the outside. Hearth Cakes can be made plain or with added dried fruit, such as cranberries, raisins and currants. The Dalish use whatever is on hand.

The Dalish make a warm, gooey, comforting dessert called Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler using whatever forest fruit is currently in season.

City Elves

In Orlais, City Elves and Dalish eat Peasant Bread, a rustic, hearty type of bread with a straightforward recipe that calls for wheat, salt and grease in nearly equal parts. This produces a biscuit that is good for mopping up last bits of stew and pairing with butter and jam. Devon remarks that the biscuit is reminiscent of Fereldan cuisine.

Lentil Soup is a popular recipe in City Elven alienages.

Orzammar / dwarves

Underground, dwarves raise spiders to eat just as surface folk raise cows and goats (this factoid appearing in the cookbook reinforces or perhaps, more accurately, properly canonizes this aspect of Orzammar/underground dwarven culture, as this was previously only featured in the DA TTRG). Spider legs are fried and served with a sauce containing alcohol. Spider legs are not unlike crab legs in taste. Sourcing spider legs above ground is not easy, and the demand from the surface for this kind of export from underground is minimal.

In dwarven culture sauces are often made with some type of alcohol. The precise kind depends on the establishment in question. The recipes for these sauces are closely-guarded secrets which chefs won’t specify. There are many varieties of these sauces. Orzammar has a fierce competition (to be crowned Orzammar’s Best Sauce) and so dwarves sometimes devise nefarious schemes and plots to acquire the secret sauce recipes. Lichen ale is generally not used in these sauces.

All mushrooms growing underground in caves and the Deep Roads are called "deep mushrooms" but there is no one variety of deep mushroom. There are in fact several. Some are squat, broad and flat-capped, while others are long and spindly, reaching towards the sky like an old man's gnarled fingers. They are used for many things, from making health potions to deadly poisons.

In Orzammar, deep mushrooms are farmed for eating. There they are a delicacy prized for their unique flavor and intoxicating scent. Some dwarves believe that a deep mushroom's proximity to lyrium and darkspawn improves its flavor. Devon, who is almost certainly human, suggests that non-dwarves and Surface dwarves who have lost their lyrium resistance should not eat deep mushrooms that have been in proximity to lyrium.

Dwarves roast cave beetles in their shells. Eaten in this way they are not unlike prawns, being similar in texture and flavor. This aspect of the lore book properly canonizes or reinforces another thing about dwarven underground culture that was previously only featured in the DA TTRPG.

Underground dwarves eat bread made from black lichen. Black lichen is toxic but high temperatures seem to largely neutralize this, making it safe to consume. Surface varieties of lichen can be substituted for the lichen used in making Black Lichen Bread. Any lichen used in making lichen bread needs to be thoroughly dried. Bark can also be used in place of lichen, although this would make the resulting bread more bark bread than lichen bread.

Nugs are edible and a key part of dwarven cuisine. The first dwarf to attempt eating one was called Varen. He did so out of desperation but became a paragon for his culinary discovery. The flavor is like a cross between pork and rabbit. Nugs are very tender, especially when roasted. There are lots of nug-based dishes including Nug Pancakes and nug-gets. For nug pancakes, other meats can be substituted.

Orzammar offers little in the way of choice when it comes to locally-produced foods. However, trade with the surface has ensured that foods from above ground are very popular underground. Jam, especially plum jam, is in especially high demand. It's very expensive there and only the most wealthy and influential Orzammar residents can afford it due to this. Recently Devon encountered a local jam maker in Orzammar who, rather than purchase jams as-is from merchants has opted to import only the individual components, in the hope that by making them themselves, they can sell the product at a much more reasonable price.

Food is easily defined underground; as long as it's edible and capable of being scavenged, it gets eaten. A surface dweller's understanding of "edible" may not align exactly with that of an Orzammar dwarf.

Lichen Ale is the drink of choice among Dust Town dwarves. It is literally toxic. In sufficient quantities it can overpower even the heartiest of dwarven constitutions. Consequently non-dwarves must approach it with caution. Most can tolerate a few sips without issues. Devon devised their own rendition of Lichen Ale using the dwarven recipe as a base, so that non-dwarves can enjoy the look and most of the flavors of the original without fear of poisoning themselves.

Grey Wardens

Grey Wardens undertake exhausting work in poor climates on patrol on the road. As such they need food items more nourishing than handfuls of nuts. On the road they often eat Grey Warden Pastry Pockets, pastries stuffed with meat, potatoes and onion. The original recipe produced a tough pastry to stop it falling apart in their packs. Lately a new variation of the recipe was introduced by new recruits from Orlais, which uses the more delicate Orlesian puff pastry. These newer pastries are delicious hot or cold but can't really be stored anywhere where they may be jostled as they will get mushed, unlike the original version of the recipe, which was tougher so as not to fall apart in packs when on the road.

Characters

When Cullen was experiencing lyrium withdrawals Fereldan members of the Inquisition left a heap of Pickled Eggs in his office, as these are a common Fereldan folk cure for many ailments.

Solas' bald head was at one point compared to an egg by another character.

Seheron Fish Pockets are a group favorite food of Bull's Chargers.

Krem tells an amazing story of a time when he, Bull and five other Chargers defended a village from fifty bandits. When the bandits were defeated and the Chargers went to collect their payment, the villagers paid them with several bags of rice rather than in gold. The Chargers used it to make dishes such as Rice Pudding.

Prince Sebastian Vael has high popularity.

There are rumors of a kind and appearing hero (Diplomatic Hawke).

Cole once evoked the sense of comfort from turnips/Turnip and Mutton Pie felt by Fereldans by throwing a bushel of turnips into a fire, via the smell.

Sera's Yummy Corn recipe is simple, yet strict, with no wraps and no non-yellow corn allowed. The corn should be checked for rot, peeled halfway, washed, cooked, peeled again and eaten. Devon holds that other varieties of corn would work fine too, but when they suggested this to Sera she was so disgusted that they couldn't bring themselves to try it. Devon assures the reader that merchant-bought corn is fine however.

Vivienne's preferred arrangement of Blancmange is a stunning, elegant, pristine white-on-white tableu of white chocolate curls and whole jasmine flowers, served on a dark plate for contrast.

Vivienne starts off her day with a croissant.

Tevinter Pumpkin Bread is one of Dorian's favorite foods. They are wonderful treats with limited ingredients, and can be made in a pan.

The Hero of Ferelden's mabari is very good at finding items. One time he even found a cake of a chocolate cream variety, topped with white frosting and fresh strawberries. Devon's mother nearly lost her mind trying to keep the Hero of Ferelden's mabari out of her larder.

Sugar Cake is a simple, humble cake topped with a sweet mixture of butter, sugar and almonds. Devon purchased one from a surface dwarf merchant who assured them that it would be well-received by any companion. The merchant told Devon that even the Hero of Fereldan purchased a few of these cakes as companion gifts.

Varric can disarm with humor, charm or through his spy network. Peoples' exasperation at his nicknames amuses him. He has a soft spot for the softer heroes, like Merrill, Bethany and Cole.

Cinnamon Rolls are one of Varric's favorite sweets. They are warm, sweet and comforting, perfect for time spent reminiscing.

Varric loves pastries, to the point that he's liable to steal them off windowsills if they have been left there to cool unattended.

Devon had an extensive consultation with Varric in order to put together the recipe for Varric's Favorite Pastries.

Varric loves sweets.

Isabela once played a drinking game where participants drank based on the number of enemies they had. This game killed a man.

Lampreys are one of Thedas' more unique-looking creatures. They have long slender bodies and toothed, suction-cup mouths. They are rare in Thedosian cuisine as they have noxious flavors. Lord Norbert de la Haine, who wanted to conquer the Free Marches, had a peculiar, singular fondness for pickled lampreys.

Iron Bull loves sweets. Hot chocolate is a particular favorite of his, to the point that it's practically a necessity for him. He swears by cocoa powder which is sometimes difficult to find (in the south). He takes his with hot milk and some Orlesian guimauves.

Other / unspecified / general

Preserved foods play an important role in many different cultures across Thedas. They help communities weather times of scarcity (e.g. in winter) and allow people to make long journeys away from home.

Lentil and onions are Thedosian stapes found in every pantry across Thedas. They're relatively inexpensive, keep well for long periods and go with almost anything. They play a supporting role in many dishes.

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding is a unique combination of mackerel, onion, celery and eggs that is strongly associated as a dish with Feast Day, when it is often eaten (as "Feast Day Fish"). There are stories that several decades ago, someone once attempted a diet consisting entirely of this dish.

There is a type of 'blood' soup which is vibrant red due to beetroot. It has a rich, earthy flavor and is topped with roasted chickpeas. This dish could either be one Merrill makes (since "Sera's Yummy Corn" is Sera's recipe, and this is "Merrill's Blood Soup"), or else it's named after her.

Roasted turkey is a dish that is sometimes cooked when having guests over for a dinner party.

Allowing nugs near kitchen pantries and stores is a recipe for disaster. They are voracious omnivores.

Sera's Yummy Corn recipe is simple, yet strict, with no wraps and no non-yellow corn. The corn should be checked for rot, peeled halfway, washed, cooked, peeled again and eaten. Devon holds that other varieties of corn would work fine too, but when they suggested this to Sera she was so disgusted that they couldn't bring themselves to try it. Devon assures the reader that merchant-bought corn is fine however.

Fruit cobbler is also a dessert known/made in other groups in Thedas, not just the Dalish, as Devon's mother baked it for them when they were young. Devon's mother usually made her cobblers with strawberries and rhubarb stems (not leaves, as those are poisonous).

There is a big variety of custards across Thedas.

Cinnamon Rolls are warm, sweet and comforting, perfect for time spent reminiscing.

Sugar Cake is a simple, humble cake topped with a sweet mixture of butter, sugar and almonds. Devon purchased one from a surface dwarf merchant who assured them that it would be well received by any companion. The merchant told Devon that even the Hero of Fereldan purchased a few of these cakes as companion gifts.

The Gilded Horn is a tavern which sells drinks like Hissing Drakes. Hissing Drakes have fiery effects on the stomach such that no sober individual would dare to down more than a single glass at a time. Drinking several in quick succession is quite a feat and formed the basis of a drinking game among some drunk young men that Devon witnessed. The men managed two or three servings before vomiting over the balcony.

There are many ways to dress up a cup of hot chocolate.

Antivan Sip-Sip packs a punch. People who are capable of downing an entire glass are made of quite stern stuff. Devon speculates that it's called a "sip-sip" because each sip of it must be chased by a sip of something else. When Devon tried it, they could scarcely manage more than a small sip at once, even though they also had a big glass of water at the time.

Dragon Piss burns like a dragon's breath both in the glass and going down.

Tea is a nice accompaniment for sweet treats. Tea exists in many blends. Devon likes deciding which biscuit to pair with different blends.

Snails aren't common in Lowlander cuisine and many Lowlanders are unconvinced on eating/trying them.

Nevarran flat bread goes from dough to ready to eat in minutes, contrasting other methods of making bread which involve baking loaves for hours.

Travel by carriage is mentioned.

Despite the name the drink The Golden Nug is pink. Inspiration for the drink was drawn from typical living nugs rather than the golden statues. The drink is made of a base of white Seleney wine sweetened with a splash of West Hill Brandy. This dilutes the color of the pomegranate juice and mulled raspberries into a soft, pinkish hue. The goal is to imitate the color of a typical nug.

Chantry sisters make some marvelous creations, including a spirit used in the making of The Emerald Valley drink which is distilled from over seventy different herbs and flowers. This spirit has a complex, varied flavor bursting with the freshness of a green valley.

Nettles are nutritious and delicious.

Source of the above information: Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook - Tastes of Thedas

If you’re not able to get the book, and there’s a recipe or two in the Contents that you’d like to see/read, let me know and I’ll show you. (❁´◡`❁)

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