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kneelingshadowsalome · 5 months

Note

i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((

Banner picture credit: @661ave

possession

noun

the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint. A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)

He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.

And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none.

He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.

He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any.

Family, or friends, that is.

When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?

It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute.

There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need?

Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir.

She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…

And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.

She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven.

He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?

He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago.

It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus.

He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy.

When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away.

It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home.

Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard.

It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.

His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.

It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube.

Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.

He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her?

And god, how he would fuck her…

Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…

He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob.

He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.

"Scheisse–"

He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.

She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.

He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.

…

She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.

She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of.

Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.

Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things?

But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.

He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.

With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all.

There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.

What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?

He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.

He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job.

The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.

Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.

So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up.

She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…

She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.

"I got you something... Merry Christmas."

"Aw… You shouldn't have…"

She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.

"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.

He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb.

Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for…

"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically.

Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present.

Well, shit. Fuck.

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."

"That’s nice to hear."

"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."

He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.

"You already got me Christmas decorations."

"Yeah, but… You paid for them."

"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"

He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.

"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways.

"I truly did."

She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.

"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying.

"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."

She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.

"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.

"Yes?"

"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."

"...What does that mean?"

"It means 'Happy New Year'."

"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"

Shit.

Shit…

"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."

She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.

"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.

"Something naughty."

Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too.

"Really…?"

"Yes."

"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."

Playful, naughty, dirty.

She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.

Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening?

"I want to lick your pussy."

There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.

"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"

"Ja."

It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.

Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress.

With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.

When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.

"Go ahead then," she whispers.

He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.

She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.

It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips.

Mein.

Mein…

He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.

Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.

And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.

He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin.

"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"

He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries.

To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.

"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"

She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams.

The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin.

Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined.

Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.

And he's only about to fuck her…

"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.

"Oh–oh god…"

Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds.

"Wait–"

"I will fuck you now."

"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"

She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for.

"Hm. I don't have any."

"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child...

But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.

Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...?

How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?

She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft.

"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.

She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go.

"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"

"I am."

He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.

And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.

He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.

"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."

Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove.

"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"

It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.

"Ok…"

"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"

"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"

The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.

"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.

"O‐oh…?"

"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."

"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"

If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness.

"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."

He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had.

He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely.

"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"

"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"

Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.

He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog.

"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"

He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck.

She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.

"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"

She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.

"Will you stay? For the night…?"

His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content.

"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”

She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity.

She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.

“I'm sorry..."

"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.

For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.

He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…

She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.

She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.

He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.

It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.

The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women.

When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.

"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."

There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.

And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.

"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"

She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…

"Liebling... Me too."

"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."

"Oh I fear a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like… flying, for example."

"But you fly all the time?"

"Exactly."

She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…

"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."

She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.

If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one.

"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"

"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"

"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."

She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in.

He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.

What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs.

This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him.

"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.

"...What?"

He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.

"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.

"What do you mean.”

She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.

"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."

He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.

"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."

Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.

So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…

And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy.

But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…

"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"

"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."

"Well, neither am I."

He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.

"No one is."

"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes.

"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."

"Liebling…"

"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"

"Of course."

She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets.

He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his.

Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…

And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise.

He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.

But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.

"Are you still afraid?"

He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness.

"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #yandere könig #tw: dark content #könig smut

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roosterforme · 9 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Now that Bradley has you with him, he never wants you to go. But the stress from Meredith and Penny still hangs between the two of you. And the only think that seems to make sense to Bradley could be taken from him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were finally in Bradley's arms. Aside from your hangover and banged up knee, you seemed no worse for the wear. Just a little shaken up from those assholes taunting you last night. As he leaned back against his headboard, you were curled up against his chest wearing his favorite sweatshirt.

"I love you," he whispered again, rubbing the bare skin of your back and waist beneath the sweatshirt. You hadn't returned the sentiment, but it didn't matter. You just snuggled a little closer to him every time he said it to you.

When your stomach growled, you looked up at him and laughed softly. "Come on," he said, kissing your forehead as he withdrew his hand from your soft skin. "I'll make you breakfast."

Now you were looking at him with concern as you straddled his thighs. "You'll make me breakfast? Sorry, but I'm not going to eat anything you cook."

Bradley tipped his head back and started laughing. "You got me there, Princess. But I can get you a bowl of cereal."

You just shook your head and slid off of his lap, taking his hand in yours. "I'll make you breakfast," you told him, looking back at him over your shoulder as he followed you down the hallway. He'd follow you anywhere today. Do anything you wanted to do. As long as you kept him with you.

He turned on the coffee maker and pulled two mugs down as you bent in front of the refrigerator. Your bare legs and his oversized sweatshirt made him feel weak. You handed him some eggs and the gallon jug of milk. "Do you have cinnamon?" you asked as he set the milk and eggs on the counter.

"You don't actually have to make me breakfast," he whispered as you kissed his chin.

"I'm hungry for French toast," you told him, so he located the cinnamon for you. Then he watched you work, helping with everything you asked him to. And when the kitchen smelled like cinnamon, and there were slices of bread sizzling on the stovetop, Bradley handed you a mug of coffee.

"Can you help me with something on my phone?" he asked softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sipped your coffee and flipped a piece of bread.

You set down the mug that said Aviators Look Down on Others and glared at him over your shoulder. "If you ask me to delete another dating app, I will rage. Do you understand me?"

"It's not that," he promised.

"Well, then what can I help you with, old man?"

Bradley couldn't help but smile at your words as he ran his mustache along the side of your neck. "Help me change this." He tapped on your contact name which was still listed as Babysitter. He deleted that word as he let his chin rest on your shoulder, making sure you were looking at his phone. Then he typed out My Princess before he opened his photo gallery.

"It doesn't look like you need my help," you whispered as he scrolled through all of his pictures of you and Noah and the occasional one related to something at work. "Oh wait, yes you do," you said, pointing to the dirty pictures you had sent him. "You need to save those in a private folder, Daddy."

He was beyond delighted that you had just called him Daddy. "That's something else you can help me with," he murmured, scrolling further until he found the first selfie you sent to him. The one where you were wearing your purple crown. He set it at your contact photo and kissed your cheek

"Give me that," you told him after you flipped the pieces of French toast again. He handed you his phone and watched you move all the dirty photos he loved so much into a new folder that you labeled Princess. "And you can enter the passcode when you want to look at them," you said as you saved today's date as the four digit code.

"Why did you make it today's date?" he asked as you spun to face him and pressed his phone to his chest. He grabbed it as you let go and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him hard, devouring his mouth as you sighed softly. Bradley tossed his phone onto the counter next to the mugs and let his hands slide up your sides beneath his soft sweatshirt.

"Because," you told him between kisses, running your fingers up into his hair and looking him in the eye. "Today's the day you told me you love me."

"Baby," he moaned against your lips, reaching behind you to turn off the stove burners.

You kept your body snug against his, even when you let your hands trail down to the bottom of his undershirt and whispered, "Daddy."

You peeled his shirt off, finally letting him feel your hands everywhere. "Please. Let me take you back to bed." He had never been intimate with you there, but he'd been dreaming about it for a long time. Hell, last night was the first time you and he had a real sleepover. The first time he got to hold you all night.

Immediately you started pushing him toward the hallway, and he hoisted you up into his arms as you squeaked. "I got you," he promised.

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

There had to be something wrong with you, because you couldn't physically stop smiling. Bradley had taken you to his bed, set you down gently right in the middle of it, and started kissing you everywhere. His sweatshirt was pushed up to your breasts, his big hands squeezing your sides while he kissed the spot just below your belly button.

You were panting softly, and you could tell how wet you were by the way your lace underwear clung to you. But he seemed to be in no hurry, so you just let him keep it up. Lips and mustache found your injured knee, and he kissed all around the bandage before gently guiding your leg over his shoulder.

"I've been dreaming about this," he whispered against your inner thigh. When his fingers teased along the elastic of your underwear, you thought he was going to remove them, but he just kept driving you crazy instead.

A soft laugh bubbled out of your lips. "You dreamed about rescuing me from frat boys and having your way with me?"

"No," he grunted, easing his large body over yours, while you kept your leg on his shoulder. You could feel his hard cock rub your core through both of your underwear, and you pressed up against him. "I dream about having you in my bed. Having you all to myself. Don't get me wrong, I love sharing you with Noah," he mumbled, pushing the sweatshirt up and palming your tits with his massive hands. "But when you're like this, you're all mine."

As your back arched off the bed, Bradley's lips met your nipple, kissing and caressing you like nobody else ever had. "Daddy," you whispered before your eyes fluttered closed.

"All mine," he muttered, licking the valley between your breasts before sucking on one nipple and then the other.

You cried out for him, your hands grabbing at his biceps and shoulders before threading through his messy curls.

"You're so fucking sensitive, Princess."

You definitely were for him. Because he knew how to touch you. He knew how to love you. He was good at all of it.

"Bradley?" you gasped after he had worked your nipples into tender peaks. He whispered your name, the bristles of his mustache rubbing you just right. You were clenching around nothing. He hadn't even undressed you yet. And now you were in trouble, because he could tell how far gone you were as he whispered your name over and over again.

You rubbed yourself up against his cock as he pressed his lips to your ear and moaned, "I love you, Princess. I love you."

There was little doubt in your mind that you could cum for him just like this. He loved you. And you loved him.

You were soaking wet as he slipped his hand inside your underwear and groaned. "You make me insane," he informed you gruffly, wasting no time before slipping his middle finger inside you.

"Bradley!" you cried as he stroked your clit with his thumb and fucked you with one, thick digit until you were propping yourself up on your elbows to get to his lips. You kissed him, and he devoured every noise you made. "I'm so close, Daddy." When you let your head tip back, his mouth found your breasts again. You were close to overstimulation as he removed his finger from inside you and rubbed his fingertips across your clit until you were nearly crying.

It took you a second to realize that your legs were shaking as he sucked on your breasts. You were about to cum as soft grunts mixed with your deep, erratic breathing. "Oh," you gasped, and then he was mashing his lips to yours, pushing you back against the pillow. "I'm coming," you whined into his mouth.

Then you were shaking everywhere, his fingers slowing down and applying less pressure until you moaned his name so loudly, you should have been embarrassed. Your panties were absolutely soaked, and it felt like you were laying in a puddle as Bradley tapped your clit with his fingertips.

When you met his eyes and saw the desire there, you knew what had happened. "Did I squirt again?" you asked softly as you caught your breath. Bradley brought his damp hand up to his own mouth and licked his palm before running his index finger along your lips.

"You did," he whispered, letting you kitten lick his fingers. You tasted good on his warm skin, and you were no longer embarrassed. Because he looked so turned on right now. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his underwear, could feel him pulsing against you. When you sucked two of his fingers into your mouth, he started bucking against you, and you looked up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he rasped, pushing them a little further into your mouth. "You already know you own me."

You moaned around his fingers before he pulled them free and kissed you. Then his sweatshirt was on the floor along with your soaking wet underwear. You watched the graceful way he removed his own underwear as you sat up.

"Come here," you commanded, and he did as he was told, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you. You told him where to touch you, and he did. You told him everything you wanted, and he did that too. You were already a mess again as his thigh rubbed your core. Already whimpering his name.

"You gonna let me make love to you, Princess?" he asked, spreading your legs a little wider and coaxing you flat on your back.

"Yes," you whispered when you felt him at your entrance.

"A little louder," he said, pressing against you with delicious pressure.

"Yes!"

He was steady and meticulous, sure that you liked everything he was doing before he went a little harder. He checked in with you until you could barely answer him, because everything felt too good. Your fingers were digging into his biceps as your lips skimmed along his neck, licking at the salty sheen on his skin. He was chanting your name like a prayer as he moved with such precision, you weren't sure you'd ever be able to orgasm without him again.

Bradley was loving your body with his. He chased your lips for more kisses every time you needed to take a breath. His rough hands were so sure of what you needed as he touched you seemingly everywhere. And interspersed among the sweet sound of your name, he told you he loved you. He used his voice like a tool in tandem with his perfect body until you were squeezing his cock tight.

You felt wrung out and exhausted, barely able to control yourself as your fingers went loose on his arms. You sunk back in the bed, keening for him as your orgasm washed over and through you. And then you watched him, neck straining as his strokes grew shorter and more irregular. You pulled his mouth to yours as he came for you. He tasted so good as he let his hand gently grip the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw.

"I love you," he breathed against your lips. His voice sounded as broken as you felt as he collapsed mostly on top of you. You held him close with your hands in his hair, and his cock still buried inside you.

"I love you, Daddy."

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

Bradley smiled the whole time you and he argued about doing laundry. You were adamant that he wash your underwear along with the bedding, but he kept telling you he liked the way they looked on his bedroom floor too much to do that.

Finally you scooped them up and said, "I'm sure if you really want to, we can soak them again," and then took them and his bedding into your arms. "It's not like you don't know how to make me squirt."

Then he watched you parade out of his room, your naked backside swaying beautifully as you went. He just stood there and exhaled as he ran his hands through his hair. He was certain he had the dumbest look on his face.

You loved him.

"Good thing I like cold French toast," you said with a laugh as he sat down completely naked on one of the kitchen chairs. You were also naked, plating some breakfast which was definitely becoming lunch.

"I like anything you cook," he mumbled, eyes glued to every inch of your body as you turned and set down a plate in front of him along with maple syrup and two glasses of orange juice. "Mind grabbing my phone?" he asked, watching as you picked it up from where he discarded it earlier.

"Here you go, old man," you said quite loudly. "Can you hear me? Do you remember your pass codes? Or do you need a refresher?"

"You know, I have a bag of Skittles for you, but I think I'll just eat all of them," he said, pulling you down onto his lap and opening up a playlist on his phone.

"You would never," you gasped. Bradley was laughing, but you actually seemed scandalized.

"No, I wouldn't," he promised, kissing your shoulder as you settled back against him. He played his favorite song, the one that reminded him of you while you cut up the French toast and drenched it in syrup.

Bradley watched you lick some syrup from your fingertip as you said, "I made a playlist for Noah. A bunch of kid friendly songs. He loved it." You took a bite of food and turned to smile at him while you chewed.

"That was sweet of you," he rasped as you fed him a bite. "He's crazy about you." Bradley thought back to Noah crying and saying he wanted you to be his mommy.

"I love him," you said simply, taking another bite of French toast while Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and caressed your soft skin.

And it didn't take long until the food was eaten and you were straddling his lap on the chair. You were cradling his hard cock against your pussy while you kissed his neck and dragged your purple fingernails down his chest and along his abs.

"Feels good," he groaned, trying to sit still and enjoy everything you were doing to him. You looked gorgeous everywhere. Every tilt of your head and brush of your lips against his skin had all of his senses screaming for more. When you finally lifted your hips up and let him slip inside you, he was so far gone. You rode him so well with your arms around his neck and your fingers trailing through his hair.

"Oh," you gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you rubbed your clit against his abs.

"You're so good, Baby," he promised, one hand guiding your hip and the other tracing your nipples. You were a dream. Everything he wanted. Perfect for him. Perfect for Noah.

You leaned closer and kissed his lips, getting louder with each stroke of your clit against him. And soon you were whining his name and pulling his hair. He filled you with his cum that dripped all over the chair and coated your thighs when you stood.

He just looked at you there, standing between his splayed thighs with your hands on his shoulders. "I never want to stop being with you," he mumbled, and you leaned down to kiss him.

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

You were a little embarrassed to admit to Bradley that when you got out of the shower, you wanted to take an afternoon nap. After you spent a few minutes picking on him for being old and drinking fiber in his tea with lunch, you yawned so long and loud that he led you to the living room. You were in his soft UVA sweatshirt again, and you stretched out on the couch with your head on his lap.

The last few days had been wild. You vowed that you were never going to speak to Greyson or his friends again. No more college boys in any way, shape or form. Nobody but Bradley.

He was currently drawing tiny circles along your neck with his fingertips. You yawned again before you whispered, "You know, I probably shouldn't even be here right now."

He just hummed in response, so you asked, "Where are things at with Meredith? Still scheduled for Wednesday?"

But Bradley was silent for a moment before he said, "I don't want you to have to worry about her. I'm doing enough worrying for all three of us. But yes, Wednesday. Unless Tracy calls and tells me otherwise."

"I'm still going to worry, Daddy. But I'm also going to support you. Noah needs to be with you. He needs his dad who took care of him and loves him. He needs to stay with you."

But those little circles on your neck and his rough fingertips had you drifting off to sleep, and you sensed that was what he wanted. He seemed reluctant to let you be consumed by this. So you slept for a few hours on his warm thigh, only stirring when you really needed to go to the bathroom. He hadn't moved at all, but his hand was resting on your bare hip, and he was watching sports highlights on mute on the TV with the captions turned on.

"Baby," he murmured when you popped your head up and turned to look at him. So handsome. You climbed onto his lap and rested your head against his shoulder. He kissed your forehead and told you, "Penny's bringing Noah back in about an hour."

Your heart soared. That would give you enough time to cook something for him for dinner, and then you could play with him a bit before his bedtime. Before you had to leave. And then your heart sank, because you didn't want to go home. And you didn't want to see Penny. You were still so upset about what happened when Bradley got blindsided by Helen.

"I'll be back," you whispered, standing and heading for the bathroom. You took a few minutes to yourself. There was too much going on. And you thought that if you could sort everything out without Bradley distracting you with his hands and his lips you could make more sense of things.

You wanted to be here when Penny dropped Noah off. You didn't want to hide what was going on. You wanted to stay and have dinner with your boys. You deserved that much.

You wanted to help Bradley with Meredith. If there was some way you could aid in court or help him prepare, you wanted to do that. He deserved that much. And Noah deserved everything.

You sighed and washed your hands, and when you opened the door, Bradley was standing there. "I just remade the bed, and I'd love to spend some time snuggling with you."

You went with him and curled up against his huge body. He held you close and asked, "When is your graduation? I need to make sure Noah and I can be there."

The first thing that popped into your mind was the scary thought that maybe Bradley wouldn't be the one making plans for his son much longer, but you squashed it immediately. "I'll add it to your phone calendar since I assume you're too old to figure out how to do that," you replied, kissing the tip of his nose.

He smirked and squeezed your butt so that you were smiling. "I appreciate that, distressingly young girlfriend."

You gasped. "Is that what I am? I thought you said no titles."

"You're my girlfriend," he said with a nod. "Just deal with it, okay? It's been only you for a while now. Your crown lives on my bedpost. I haven't had any other partners. Noah and I are in love with you. You're my girlfriend. My Princess."

You couldn't stop the smile from taking over your face. "Technically I'm Noah's Princess, too."

He sighed and studied your face. "I'm hoping you'll be more than that someday. Now let me put some real clothing on before Penny gets here." With a kiss to your cheek, Bradley grunted and climbed out of bed. You watched his body as he pulled on a US Navy tee shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants.

"Okay, what are you doing?" you asked, crawling across the bed toward him.

He gave you a funny look. "Getting...dressed?"

"No." You pulled him closer by the drawstring on his pants. "As your girlfriend, I'm telling you that you can't wear gray sweatpants around anyone except me. Or like maybe your doctor or something. Because even with underwear, I can see the outline of your dick. It's delicious looking, but no, Daddy."

He blushed. He actually blushed. And you smirked as he yanked them back off again and tossed them at your face. "You wear them, then." You laughed as he pulled on some jeans, complaining the entire time. Then you got out of bed and stepped into his sweatpants. You were sure you looked ridiculous in his too large sweatpants and sweatshirt, but you had nothing else to wear, so you rolled the pants at the waist.

And then the doorbell rang. And now you actually weren't sure that Bradley would want Penny to see you here. You were about to ask him if that was the case, but he took you by the hand.

"Noah is going to be so excited that I didn't completely fuck things up with you." He pulled you down the hallway and toward the front door, and before you knew it, Noah and Penny were right in front of you. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he started trying to wiggle out of Penny's arms.

"Princess!"

You scooped him up as Penny laughed and handed Bradley a bag. "Here's some artwork that we made today. Plus some dirty laundry. We had so much fun making macaroni art with Amelia."

She smiled at you. She didn't look surprised to see you at all as you hugged Noah and kissed his round cheek.

"Thanks, Pen," Bradley mumbled, digging through the bag.

"No need to thank me," she replied, wringing her hands nervously now. "I owe you an apology." She was talking to you. Your eyes went a little wide. "I didn't know the two of you were together. If I had known, I would have never tried to set Bradley up. I really shouldn't have done it anyway," she added softly.

You turned to look up at Bradley. "You told her about us?"

"Yes," he replied, slipping his arm around your shoulders and kissing his son on the head. "Of course I did."

"I should have known, honestly," Penny said, looking at Bradley with a smile. "By the way he said he wasn't using the dating app. And how he seemed calmer. More grounded."

Your cheeks felt warm as you pressed your lips together. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked. "I'm making spaghetti."

"Spaghetti!" Noah cheered, but Penny shook her head. "I need to pick Amelia up from her friend's house. But thank you." And then she was kissing Bradley's cheek and closing the door as she left.

You were alone with your boys. This was all you'd been dreaming about recently. Noah's arms were around your neck, and Bradley was guiding you toward the kitchen, and you had tears in your eyes.

"I love you," Noah whispered, and then you started crying.

"I love you, too, sweet Noah."

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

Bradley watched you tuck Noah into bed. You looked so good in his clothing and in his house. You looked perfect when you were with his son. He needed this to be his everyday life.

You joined him in the hallway and whispered, "I'll get an Uber to take me home if you don't mind me borrowing your clothes."

"Stay," he replied softly. "Please, stay."

You bit your lip and started to slowly shake your head. "Tomorrow is Monday. You have work. I should go to campus and start on my job applications and final few assignments."

"You can do that from here. Use my computer. Please, stay."

You hummed softly. He would be more than happy to beg you not to leave, but you took him by the hand and kissed his wrist. "Okay. I'll stay. Leave me your computer and charger."

Then you turned toward his bedroom, pulling his sweatshirt over your head as you went. "Are you coming?" you asked him over your shoulder. He could see the silhouette of your peaked nipple in the dimly lit space, and he tripped along after you.

"I'm coming, Baby," he rasped, and your soft giggle as you climbed into his bed had him reaching for you. The room was dark, and his eyes hadn't adjusted yet, but your voice alone was making him hard.

"Come get me, Daddy."

He grunted and slipped his hand down the front of the sweatpants, and you gasped. He took his time. He made sure you were reacting just the way he wanted you to. And when he had you close, he asked, "Does anyone else make you feel as good as Daddy does?"

Your moan was so loud in the silent house that he had to cover your mouth with his. "No," you panted. "No."

Then he flipped you over onto your knees and yanked the sweatpants down. "Good girl," he whispered, burying his face in your pussy from behind.

"Daddy," you whined, and Bradley had to push your face down to the pillow to keep you quiet. With your ass in the air, he finished you off as you gushed a bit for him.

"Fucking hell," he growled as he lapped at your pussy and unzipped his jeans, pulling himself free. With one clean movement, he was buried deep, bottoming out inside you. "Soaking wet." His face was tipped back, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep his composure.

"Daddy!" you whined, bumping back against him harder, and that was it.

"Not too loud, Baby," he warned, wrapping one hand over your mouth and planting one hand on the bed. He pressed himself against your back and whispered in your ear, "You want Daddy to be sweet or rough?"

"Rough," you whimpered against his fingers before he shoved them in your mouth and slammed into you until he was seeing stars. You were a whimpering mess as Bradley filled you over and over again, and then he came so hard, he was afraid he was going to hurt you. But you seemed fine as he collapsed on top of your back.

"You okay?" he asked, panting like he'd just run five miles.

"Yes," you gasped softly. "So good."

"Will you let me fuck you like a sweet princess tomorrow?"

You moaned softly. "Whenever you want."

He kissed along your neck and grunted. "Daddy needs a good night's sleep, Baby. Tomorrow."

And not ten minutes later, Bradley was sound asleep as you ran your fingers along his chest and told him you loved him. He never wanted you to leave.

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

Bradley is always in a much better headspace when he's with his little family. Don't worry, Meredith is on deck! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 23

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elixirfromthestars · 7 months

Text

A Rainy Rendezvous

Pairing: Steve Rogers x CIA!Reader

Summary: On a rainy night during a mission in Poland, you "bump into" someone who held a very important place in your heart in the past.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning(s): brief mentions of CIA operatives / a bit of angst / a sprinkle of fluff / the one that got away vibes / mentions of being followed / mentions of a gun / stays within the marvel guidelines of action + fighting

requested by @espinosaurusrexex

a/n: Hello everyone! ❤️ Thank you for being so patient with me on these requests! ❤️❤️ Life has been very hectic lately between starting an internship, being a senior in college, and my dog passing away...it's been a lot. 💔 I’ve mentioned this before, but many of the requests are close to being done. I only have a few final touches and edits to add, so look forward to that in these upcoming weeks! ✨

sequel drabble 🤎 // birthday bingo masterlist 🤎 // main masterlist 🤎

“ I’ll check out the other location tomorrow. For now, I’m calling it a night,” you hung up the call, the simple click relieving some of the tension in your shoulders. Most days as an agent were tedious, but today had been another extreme of it entirely. Your informant double-crossed you, causing your undercover identity to be potentially compromised.

You spent the majority of the day chasing dead-end leads as to where your informant had gone to hide away. The soles of your feet ached and the rainy chill of the night was bringing in no added comfort. You buttoned up your denim jacket, stopping the icy wind from seeping itself further into your chest.

You walked the unfamiliar streets of Kraków in the general direction of the hotel you had been stationed in. As exhausted as you were, it was your first time in Poland and it was small opportunities like this one where you could take in the beauty of the countries you worked in.

After your wasted efforts of the day, you weren’t going to waste a second of this.

You weren’t alone on your nightly stroll. Locals and tourists alike bustled about, enjoying what the city had to offer—despite the weather.

You passed by multiple local businesses and restaurants before stopping at one of the stalls near St. Mary’s Basilica. An elderly couple was selling braided bread and mulled wine. Your Polish needed some work, but you knew enough to keep up in conversation with the couple.

Their presence was the right kind of warmth for a night like this. They bickered in a way only old married couples did. The kind of back-and-forth friendly matches you can only have with the love of your life. Little simplistic arguments ending in tight hugs and peppered kisses.

They reminded you of the time you had loved so intensely to the point of considering—for the first time in your life—growing old with someone. You pushed the memories away, deciding there was no need to revisit ghosts from the past. You could do that at some other time.

You excused yourself, taking your bread and mulled wine, and continued your route in the opposite direction of where your hotel was located. The saltiness of the bread dissolved on your tongue while the mulled wine left you in delightful confusion as you tried to decipher the ingredients within it. There were hints of apple cider, cinnamon, and a citrusy fruit.

You decided to enjoy your treats and what you had left of this peaceful night while you still could.

In your field of work, being on high alert every second of an operation is crucial. In many instances, it could mean life or death for any of the parties involved. The best agents in the organization could detect danger from the most peculiar places.

You were one of them.

You realized you were being followed the moment you stepped into St.Mary’s Basilica. Within the shadows of the night, there was one in particular that stayed trained on you. Since the uncertainties arose over whether or not your undercover identity had been compromised, the person following you could be anyone.

As to not raise suspicion, you kept your pace the same and continued to savor your treats as if you were any other tourist. Internally, your alarms were ringing and you were trying to locate the best place to have an advantage over your pursuer, so you wouldn’t end up being cornered by them in case a confrontation occurred.

The rain was only but a drizzle now, and the moon was high in the sky. The more you walked the fewer people there were around you. Many of the businesses you had passed earlier were now closed and you realized it was likely you might end up in a position where you were left alone in the night with the mysterious stranger hot on your trail.

This stranger was now using the roofs of the buildings across the street to continue his pursuit of you. You had to admit that was clever of him and if you had been any other agent you might not have noticed.

Your only option now was to go on the offense before the man—you had concluded was a man from his broad silhouette—ever got a chance to.

You discarded the remnants of your Polish delicacies in a nearby trashcan before dashing over to the other street, underneath the building the stranger was standing on. You knew he could either maneuver his way to the tops of the buildings on the other side of the street or decide to meet you at the bottom.

You were hoping he would meet you at the bottom.

The building you had run to had an intricate pathway aligned with arches all across it. You used the columns of the arches to make your way to the side of the building where you would be able to get a better view of which direction the man would decide to go. If you used the shadows from the columns made by the city lights and the moon, you would be able to sneak up on the man and have the upper hand.

Of course, the gun hidden on the inside of your jacket would help with that as well.

You bent down and angled your body so you had a clear view of the street while still keeping yourself hidden. Adrenaline began to make its way through your body giving you the added energy you would need in the fight.

You concentrated on the noises around you, causing you to pick up on incoming footsteps. They were light, letting you know this person must be highly trained for them to know how to mask their steps. If it weren’t for the sporadic puddles on the ground from the rain, you might not have heard them.

You weren’t sure what organization you were dealing with, but you knew you had to be as careful and calculated as you could. Due to the possibility of your undercover identity being compromised, the person after you could be from one of many organizations you had crossed in the past.

The steps were inching closer, and yet, there was no sign of the man. You could have sworn you chose the best location to spot him, but it seems you were mistaken. Your only choice now was to concentrate on the direction his footsteps resounded from and pinpoint his location with that.

From the sound of it, he was just to the left of you and merely a few feet away. With every inching step he took, you realized it was now or never to act.

“ Don’t move any closer! Identify yourself!” You sprung up, pointing your gun directly at the man. He was using the shadows of the night to hide himself as he approached you, so it was difficult to distinguish his features from where you stood.

The man froze, his hands slowly raising to a peaceful stance, “ I figured I shouldn’t have snuck up on you, Y/n.” You faltered for a second at the sound of his voice and your name dropping from his lips. It was as familiar as a déjà vu was. In your heart, there was a memory of it and yet you couldn’t pinpoint when was the last time you had heard it.

Perhaps it might have been when he broke your heart.

Or maybe when you had broken his.

“Steve?” His name dropped from your lips in a whisper. A part of you thought you were losing it. Had you been so lonely these last couple of years that you were now projecting your last lover onto random strangers?

The man stepped into the light confirming what your heart already knew. The man who had been hiding in the shadows and following you was your ex-boyfriend Steve Rogers. Although, this Steve in front of you was foreign to you.

He had grown out his beard and his hair, which was now a darker shade of blonde than you remembered. From what you could see, his face and hands were adorned with new scars and scratches untouched by your hands. There was also a gloominess behind his blue eyes he couldn’t hide away.

He dawned on a black leather jacket as opposed to the brown leather one you were used to. You had borrowed that jacket many times in the past as it became a comfort to you whenever he was away on a mission. It always smelled of his sandalwood aftershave and the smoky bergamot cologne you had given him on the first Christmas you spent together.

It became his signature scent and you loved it.

However, the Steve in front of you resembled nothing of the Steve you once loved. How much had his life changed in the years since the two of you broke up? How much had it changed him?

“ Hey…it's been a while,” he spoke up cautiously, glancing over at the weapon in your hand before looking into your eyes. You lowered it slowly, feeling as though you were in a dream, “ Yeah, it has. Last I heard you were in big trouble with the United Nations. Technically, I should be arresting you right now.” You said the last part in a playful tone hoping to ease the tension between you.

The night seemed to have gotten colder ever since he stepped in front of you.

Thankfully, easing into things was the right call as a small smile appeared on his lips, “ Technically, you're right, but you would have to catch me first,” he pointed out.

“ Oh, that would definitely not be a problem,” you boasted.

“ Half of the Avengers tried and failed,” he informed you, holding back what looked like a somber yet smug expression.

“ Yeah, but I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve not even Tony would think of,” you stated confidently, placing your gun back into a pocket on the inside of your jacket. Now that you no longer needed it, you didn’t want it to hinder the pleasant mood that was now finding its place between you.

“ I’m sure you do,” he responded, a fond look adorning his features. You were sure you had a similar expression, as you ruminated on past memories of playful exchanges with Steve. Many ended in far more romantic exchanges than this conversation would.

Getting past what once was, you needed your curiosity satisfied,“ What brings you to Poland anyway? And why were you following me? I don’t know how they did it in the 1940s, but in modern times we use a thing called a cellphone when we want to contact an ex,” you teased.

He laughed at that, a sound you recognized all too well. It made you realize that although the Steve in front of you was different, you still knew him. Deep down he still had to be the man you had fallen in love with.

There was a conflict of emotions stirring within your heart as a result.

“ Okay, I get it. Like I said, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I just thought you wouldn’t want to see me,” he confessed before continuing, “ Those of us who didn’t sign the Sokovia Accords are on the run. We’ve been moving to a new city every few weeks. Right now we’ve been stationed in Kraków for two and are relocating to Tarnów next week. Sam told me you were on a C.I.A. mission here and I had to come see you before we left,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head in a sheepish manner.

You couldn’t blame him for coming to see you. At this point, you would have to hold yourself back from “bumping into him” in Tarnów.

“ Sam told you? How did he know?” You asked, still not seeing the full picture. Steve cleared his throat before speaking, “ Vision was a big help with that. Between him and Sam, they were able to rework an old laptop to pick up on different signals and monitor specific ones we chose. It was by chance he picked up on a phone call you were having with an agent named Clarke a few days ago,” he explained, causing your confusion to dissipate and in its place discomfort made a home.

Knowing that what Steve said was true, that meant that Sam and Steve had heard the very awkward and uncomfortable conversation you had with your mission partner Agent Clarke a few days ago.

Clarke had taken an interest in you ever since you were first partnered up on a mission a few months back. You never had taken a similar interest in him and always kept things professional. Unfortunately for you, this caused Clarke to think you were “playing hard to get” and this ensued a plethora of attempts to charm you.

His latest attempt was a few days ago where he insisted on your undercover identities being a newly wedded couple having their honeymoon across Europe. You politely declined and were grateful your mission supervisor disagreed with the idea as well. The conversation was overall uncomfortable and to outsiders it could have insinuated there was something going on between you and Clarke.

The outsiders in question here, unfortunately, were Steve, Sam, and anyone else in their group who had heard the conversation. You were mortified, to say the least.

“ Oh, you heard that? About that…,” you trailed off not knowing where to start.

Steve shook his head,“ You don’t need to explain anything. I get it. You moved on and you have every right to. This whole moving on thing, I just—I still feel like I’m stuck in time sometimes and I can’t help revisiting the past,” he stated sincerely, his eyes wandering to the ground. He frowned at it, searching for something else to say.

At the same time, his statements had brought you out of your embarrassment long enough to register what he had said.

“ Surely you’ve moved on?” You asked him, not comprehending if you had interpreted what he said correctly.

It took him a moment before he got the courage to lock eyes with you,“ Have you?”

You paused, not having a straight answer to his question. Before meeting him today to anyone else you would have said you had—even if deep down you knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

You broke up with him months before the whole Ultron disaster and since then you haven’t looked at another man with romantic intentions.

You couldn’t count that as moving on.

Your mouth parted, but no words came out. You were still unsure of what to say. Your heart was jumping out of your chest trying to answer for you and the look he was giving you was making it impossible not to give in and let it. He was pleading with his eyes, a hopeful shimmer that maybe somewhere within you there were still feelings for him lying dormant waiting to be awakened.

His gaze made it difficult for you to think, so you averted his eyes and looked down at a slightly large puddle on the ground. It was the only thing separating the two of you, with both of your reflections lying inside of it. You stared at the reflections, hoping to collect your thoughts better this way.

You could see him shuffling uncomfortably through the reflection,“ I think a part of me always knew you had. I should’ve known when you didn’t respond to any of my letters,” he continued, taking your body language as confirmation you had moved on.

At his revelation, your eyes shot up and locked on him, “ You wrote me letters?”

He looked taken aback by your surprised expression, “ I did. Every month for a year after we broke up. There was a lot I still had left to say—and that I wanted to say to you. When I didn’t get a reply back I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me,” he admitted, his expression softening.

You were gutted at the mental image of Steve waiting nervously to hear back from you only to receive silence in return. You spiraled at the thought of what could have been if you had read just one of those letters. Truthfully, your breakup with Steve was unwanted on both ends. However, due to the pressure and demands both of your professions required of you, you grew apart.

For months, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of each other on the weekends before receiving your next mission or task. Evil didn’t stop, so the good guys couldn’t either—and the Avengers took up almost all of Steve’s time. The loneliness of the constant nights alone waiting for your boyfriend to come home became too much for you.

So much so, that you ended things when loneliness turned into resentment. There was only so much the mind could understand before the heart took over.

You boiled it down to right person, wrong time.

“ I never got them,” you finally spoke up, “ If I had, Steve, I promise I would have called you. Right after we broke up I was stationed in London for a year and I rented out my apartment to a young couple. They never told me of any letters,” you explained, feeling betrayed by fate and your tenants.

Steve gave a chuckle, one laced with disbelief at the situation, “ No, it's on me. Letters are kind of old school, aren’t they? I should’ve picked up the phone and called you.” He shouldered the responsibility, something only Steve would feel the need to do.

You disagreed, shaking your head at him,“ The phone works both ways, so it's on me too. And I like old school. There’s a charm to it you can’t find anywhere else.”

You hoped the deeper meaning of what you said would get across for Steve to understand.

It seems it did, as a comfortable silence fell between you. You stared at one another, searching for your past selves in each other's eyes. There were so many questions and things left unsaid that were waiting to be discussed.

You were eager for him to confess to you everything that was written in the letters and he was just as eager to hear your response to all those unanswered questions he had sent you more than a year ago.

As neither of you could decide who would get the conversation started, fate decided to intervene once more. However, fate this time went by the name of Sam and his little bird-like drone Redwing.

When you spotted it approaching you, your hand instinctively placed itself on top of the gun hiding on the inside of your jacket. Upon seeing your reaction, Steve bolted over to you and placed himself in front of you as protection. The action caused your heart to flutter.

As soon as Steve spotted Redwing, his guard went down.

“ Don’t worry about the drone, it’s Sam’s. I think that’s his way of telling me I need to be heading back,” he informed you, your guard dropping as well at the explanation.

“ I should be heading back too. I have a lot of investigating to do in the morning,” you pointed out.

“ Want me to walk you back?” Steve asked you in a way that gave you full control over the decision.

As much as you wanted him to, you had to decline, “ I want to say yes, but you can’t. The hotel I’m staying at is heavily monitored and you're on the run. It would be too risky. It’s safer for you and your group if you don’t go anywhere near it.” You were disappointed at the reality of the situation and from the look on Steve’s face so was he.

“ I figured, but I still wanted to ask,” he took a step back, making you realize how close you two had gotten when he rushed over to protect you. There was no longer a large puddle of water in between, and if you reached your hand out you would be able to touch him.

“ Steve, that old laptop can track down any signal right?”

“ From what I understood, yes. Why?”

“ Well you have mine now, so I’m counting on you to keep in touch,” you let him know before planting a quick goodbye kiss on his cheek. His beard was scratchy against your lips, but you were surprised to find out you didn’t mind it.

He was stunned for a moment before a grin quickly replaced it.

“ I will. I promise,” the sincerity in his tone and expression was all you needed to walk away knowing the story wouldn’t end there.

“ Goodnight, Steve.”

“ Goodnight, Y/n.”

How lovely it was to hear those words again.

The next day a package was delivered to your hotel room containing a burner phone inside and a note that read:

I always keep my promises. :)

The phone contained only one number on the contact list you soon found out belonged to Steve. Throughout the course of the next two weeks in Poland, you spent every night talking on the phone with him.

You both poured your heart out to one another. Your losses, your fears, your hopes, and any other topic that came to mind. There was so much to catch the other up on that there were never enough hours in the night to get through it all.

With every conversation, the connection you once had was slowly building itself again. A little over two years had gone by since your breakup and the people you had become since then were getting to know each other once more.

Maybe now the timing was finally right.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fluff #birthday bingo request #steve rogers imagine

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luvsfics · 2 months

Text

Just thinking about walking up at the burrow in boyfriend!ron’s arms, his holding you tightly by your waist as he snores softly into your ear.

The smell of sausage and bacon and every breakfast item you can think of filling your nose along with the cinnamon aroma the house already had. It pulls you from Ron’s arms and down the stairs, thankfully he’s a heavy sleeper.

You tugged down the large sweater you wore of Ron’s, it was embroidered with a yellow ‘R’ in the center, and it was one of the coziest things you’ve ever worn. Seeing as your boyfriend was massive, it covered your entire body and reached down to your mid thigh.

You tip-toe down the squeaky steps and into the kitchen where Molly is cooking up breakfast. There were already pancakes, biscuits, bread, toast, bacon, sausage, pastries, eggs, and so much more on the big table.

She stirred up a silky white liquid in a bowl, “oh, good morning darling!” She turned to you as you took the last step down the stairs. “Good morning, Mrs. Weasley!” You gave her a kind smile.

“Sleep well?” She asked, as she continued to stir the mixture. “Well, sleeping next to Ron can be a bit rough.” You joked, which earned you a laugh.

“Need any help?” You asked, moving next to her by the counter to see some discarded Berries in a bowl and a floured counter top.

“If you could just continue to stir this while I get these buns out that would be delightful.” She said as she set the bowl down in front of you. You nodded, taking the whisk and began stirred the icing to the buns in the oven.

Molly took out the buns and set them on the stove to cool, the cinnamon and sugar filled your nose and brought a smile to your face.

“Let me go grab some oranges from the garden, dear.” She said before waltzing out the door. A few moments later, big hands wrap around your waist and pull you into their front.

A kiss was pressed to your neck before they sat their head on your shoulder. “You left me..” Ron grumbled into your ear as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

You giggled, “your mother’s cooking just smelt too good.”

He sighed, “don’t blame ‘ya. Best cook on earth, I tell ‘ya.” He smiled against your shoulder. Your clothed back was pressed against his bare chest and his ginger hair was messy and tickled your neck.

He dipped a finger into the icing and stuck it into his mouth, “Ronald!” You scolded, pushing him off with your shoulders. He laughed and he backed off of you.

He leaned himself up against the counter next to you and his gaze bore into the side of your face. You turned to him and saw his eyes practically burning holes into your face, anxiety filling your stomach.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You questioned as you rubbed your cheek to try to find anything.

“No, you’re just the most beautiful girl in the world. Do you know that?” He said with a growing grin.

You rolled your eyes and your lips broke into a shy smile, “Oh shut up.” Your eyes moved back to the glossy icing-filled bowl.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, a hand slapped your ass, making you jump, “you’ve got an amazing arse too, love.” He grinned.

“Ronald!”

#harry potter #hp #hp fanfic #hp fandom #imagine #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley imagine

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cal100 · 5 months

Text

Every day Sanji woke up at the ungodly hour of 5 am to prep breakfast for the Straw Hat crew. Zoro truly didn't understand how he did it or why; why not just make easier meals for breakfast? Everyone liked simple things like bacon and eggs but Sanji insisted breakfast was the most important meal of the day and took almost three hours to prepare elaborate things like fresh baked scones and quiches. Zoro didn't mind in all honesty; he appreciated the hard work his partner put in, but he wanted him to get more sleep in the mornings.

He heard faint noises in the kitchen and decided to head down from his perch in the Crows Nest. Zoro pushed open the door to the Sunny’s kitchen and blinked at the harsh lighting. Sanji turned from where he stood at the refrigerator door to greet him.

“Good morning,” said Sanji with a cheerful smile on his face.

“Mornin’, what's on the menu for today?”

“Croque Madames-that's a sandwich, Cinnamon Rolls, Eggs Benedict, Parfaits, and Sausage.”

It all sounded delicious to Zoro although he wasn't picky which was one of the things Sanji liked about him. He wondered if Sanji would want help with preparing for breakfast. On the one hand, Sanji always liked it when he helped with the dishes, but on the other hand, Sanji hated it when people undermined his cooking abilities. Sanji's voice interrupted Zoro’s musings, “Would you like to help me prep breakfast?” Well, it appears the choice had been taken away from him.

“I would if it won't bother you.”

“Nonsense, I'm always happy to have mon chu around, even when you are a bother,” Sanji smirked at him.

After several hours of Zoro learning how to cut fruit “properly” and “not with a sword, you brute” and buttering a lot of bread breakfast was finally ready. Just in time as well, the other Straw hats were beginning to stumble blearily into the dining room. All seemed delighted by the buffet that spanned the table and equally as surprised to see Zoro in the kitchen, with an apron on nonetheless.

“What's Zoro doing in here?” Nami asked incredulously.

“He helped me prepare breakfast for you all, and he did an excellent job.” Zoro's face flushed slightly.

As the crew members finished their breakfast they exclaimed how much they loved the meal and how spectacular of a job Zoro had done in helping Sanji prepare. Personally, he didn't feel like he had done very much to help and said so to Sanji while they were doing the dishes afterward.

“Mon cœur, you did so much! Honestly, I wouldn't have finished on time without your help because I overslept this morning. I appreciate you and the help you provided me.”

Sanji kissed Zoro on the cheek and went back to drying the dishes. Maybe Zoro would help prep breakfast more often.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #zosan

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aifanfictions · 6 months

Note

Write a story about Kakashi falling in love with the reader who has a bakery and is the sweetest girl ever. Kakashi’s instincts tell him that she is his mate and he gets flustered.

Baking Hearts: Kakashi's Sweetmate

Hidden within the bustling streets of Konohagakure, nestled amidst the fragrant aroma of baked goods, was a bakery that held a secret. (Y/N), the enchanting owner, had a reputation that matched her delightful confections. Her bakery was more than just a shop; it was a place of comfort, warmth, and the sweetest delights one could imagine.

One ordinary day, or so it seemed, Kakashi Hatake, the famed Copy-Nin, strolled through the streets. He couldn't explain it, but something inexplicable drew him to the bakery. Perhaps it was the tantalizing scent of freshly baked bread or the irresistible allure of sweets.

As the bell above the bakery door chimed, (Y/N) looked up from behind the counter, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Welcome! How may I help you today?"

Kakashi's stoic demeanor faltered for a moment, and his visible eye widened ever so slightly. Her presence was like a beacon of light in his world of shadows. "I... I'll have a cinnamon roll, please," he stammered, his usually calm and collected self momentarily flustered.

As (Y/N) handed him the pastry, their fingers brushed, and an inexplicable jolt of electricity coursed through Kakashi. He quickly withdrew his hand, feeling a blush creeping across his masked face. It was as if a hidden instinct within him recognized her as something more than just a bakery owner.

Unbeknownst to Kakashi, the ancient instincts of the Inuzuka clan, dormant for generations, had awakened within him. His senses, normally sharp, were now on high alert, and they were all pointing to one undeniable truth: (Y/N) was his mate.

In the days that followed, Kakashi found himself visiting the bakery more often than he cared to admit. He couldn't help but indulge in (Y/N)'s delectable creations. Each encounter left him more flustered and intrigued, and it seemed that (Y/N) felt a similar connection.

One quiet evening, as they shared a cup of tea, (Y/N) broke the silence, her voice soft and inviting. "Kakashi, there's something about you that feels... familiar."

Kakashi, usually a master of evading personal questions, hesitated for the first time. "I feel it too, (Y/N). It's as if we've known each other for a long time."

The moonlight streamed through the bakery's window, casting an enchanting glow on (Y/N)'s face. She leaned closer, her eyes locked with Kakashi's. "Maybe it's because we're meant to be together."

With those words, Kakashi's heart raced. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring them together. Their connection, tinged with mystery and destiny, was undeniable.

As they leaned in for a kiss, Kakashi couldn't help but think that sometimes, the sweetest things in life were found in the most unexpected places. And in (Y/N)'s bakery, he had discovered not just the finest pastries but the love of his life.

Their kiss was as sweet as (Y/N)'s most treasured confections, and in that moment, Kakashi knew that he had found the missing piece to his life's puzzle. Their love story, baked with affection and sprinkled with destiny, had only just begun.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of sweetness and stolen moments. Kakashi found himself drawn to (Y/N)'s bakery like a moth to a flame. He loved the way her laughter echoed through the small shop, the delicate way she adorned her pastries, and the warmth that radiated from her heart.

One sunny afternoon, as Kakashi sat at one of the small tables, he watched (Y/N) expertly decorate a cake with delicate sugar flowers. Her hands moved with grace and precision, and Kakashi couldn't help but be mesmerized by her every action.

(Y/N) glanced over and noticed his admiring gaze. She smiled and called him over, offering him a small pastry to try. "Kakashi, you've been such a regular customer, and I'd love to hear your opinion on this new recipe I've been working on."

Kakashi took a bite and savoring the delightful flavors. "It's amazing, (Y/N). Your talent truly knows no bounds."

She blushed and thanked him for the compliment. "You know, you're not the only one who feels a special connection. I've never met anyone who appreciates my baked goods as much as you do."

Their eyes met, and a shared understanding passed between them. The attraction they felt was undeniable, and it seemed the universe had conspired to bring them together.

As weeks turned into months, Kakashi and (Y/N) became inseparable. They explored the village, shared quiet moments at the bakery, and, of course, enjoyed delicious sweets. Their bond deepened with every passing day, and it was clear to both of them that they were meant to be together.

One evening, Kakashi took (Y/N) to a beautiful spot in the village where the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. The delicate pink petals danced on the gentle breeze, creating a magical atmosphere.

He turned to her, his gaze filled with warmth and sincerity. "I've known from the moment we met that you were someone special. (Y/N), will you be my mate?"

(Y/N) was taken aback for a moment, but her heart soared with joy. "Yes, Kakashi, I'd be honored to be your mate."

They sealed their commitment with a sweet and passionate kiss beneath the cherry blossoms, surrounded by the love and warmth that had brought them together.

And so, Kakashi and (Y/N) embarked on a new chapter of their lives, a chapter filled with love, sweetness, and the promise of a future as delightful as the pastries (Y/N) lovingly baked in her cozy little bakery. Together, they found a love that was as irresistible and heartwarming as the treats they shared, and their story would continue to be as sweet as their favorite confections.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

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lionsongfr · 3 months

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Crystalline Gala Cuisine

Been a bit since I made a festival cuisine, and since my old ones have been circulating, I guiltily figured I should make one for the Gala before it ends. Gaolers and Tundras are both herbivores (though Gaolers also eat meat), but I headcanon that like most herbivores they will opportunistically eat fish, insects, and meat when given the chance. The dishes have a bit more mixing than the previous cuisine; in the Icefield you eat what you can and as much as you can to survive. Potato Onions are my replacement for potatos, because FR needs potatoes (and citrus and tomatoes and wheat and rice and spices).

Seeker Stew- originally a stew of necessity for traveling Seekers, it was made of dried Sea Grass, small Cragside Mussels, canned Common Minnows, Sour Elk milk, and spoiled Turnips. The dish was transformed back home, using fresh Spinach, meaty Olympia Oysters, Jumbo Shrimp, new Potato Onions, and…sour Snowfall Elk milk. Funk is flavor!

Shalefin in a Fur Coat- this uniquely named dish is a layered salad, like the layers of a Tundra fur coat. It is made of finely sliced pickled Shalefin fillets, grated Potato Onion, Gradish, and Honeycrisp Apple, and chopped hard-boiled Flecked Bushrunner eggs. The key binding ingredient is a flavorful mayonnaise made of Elk tallow, Dappled Clucker yolks, and dill.

Bear in a Cave Dumplings-a favorite of the Fae scholars of the Frozen Sanctum. It is a boiled or fried Potato Onion dumpling filled with fried Wooly Bear, Wild Onion, and Dryad's Saddle. It can be served with melted Elk milk butter and Winter’s Delight jam or a white sauce spiced with dried Dusky Mealworm and imported Golden Pepper.

Tundra Grub- a dish named after the main protein of the dish: a sausage filled with Tundra Grub meat, Longneck-grown oats, and Elk blood. The sausage is fried along with strips of Tundra Cactus before being added to an earthy brown sauce of Mycena Mushroom and Earthworms. It is typically served with an unleavened flatbread made of rye or Longneck oats, or a mash of Potato Onion.

Woodland Turkey Dinner- this was once a seasonal dish, but now is common year-round. While the star of the dinner is the roasted Woodland Turkey, the side dishes are just as essential. The most common is: Deep Sea Lobster and Jumbo Shrimp stuffing, roasted Winter Brussel Sprouts with a Superberry vinegarette, Tundra Grub and Potato Onion mash with Mycena Mushroom gravy, and Stonecorn rolls with Elk cheese and White Lace Honeybee honey. And last but not least, a Cinnamon and Honeycrisp Apple pie. A heavy dinner said to put even Sentinels to sleep!

Trunk Cheese- not actually cheese, but a cold meat dish made of fresh Bullephant Trunk (or Mammophant, though it is not as tasty). The meat of the trunk is removed and cooked in a mix of spices and Wild Onion, and then poured and set with gelatin in the skin of the trunk. Slices are cut from the trunk and served upon rye bread with strong Wild Mustard and pickled Gradish.

Edamame Soup and Pancakes- a popular yet odd combination of savory and sweet. This dish features a Chilled Edamame soup (heated of course, the chilled variety of plants grow better in the hot houses of Icefield) with large chunks of smokey Elk bacon, a sprinkle of thyme, and a dollop of Wild Mustard. The pancakes are made of nutty and mildly sweet Amaranth flour and served with Winter’s Delight jam. The soup is traditionally dished with a silver spoon, after a mighty Tundra king was poisoned by his favorite soup.

Warden’s Delight- a dessert, a snack, a spread upon rye bread, and a delight to every hatchie. It is a mix of Elk tallow, Spotted Seal or Wooly Walrus oil, fresh snow, and Winter’s Delight. As the mixture is whipped into fluffy peaks, it is traditional to sing “Warden’s Delight to fight off the night, no Shade or beast shall fill my sight. Drive away the hunger, drive away the cold, fill my belly and make me bold.”

Frozen Bouquet- flowers are rarity in the Southern Icefield, but this bouquet is made from flash-frozen flowers and fruits. After thawing they are quickly coated in a thin layer of crystalized maple syrup and then arranged into a bouquet. Often the bouquets have hidden meanings like Pretty Pink Mums for courting. Winterbelle for strength, and Wolfsbane for warning. But what every Tundra fears the most is a bouquet of Black Tulips.

Crisp Morning Cider- Vodka is life to Ice Flight, the warmth in one’s chest in a land where winter never ends. And while most drink it “neat”, when rations are low then cocktails are the answer! This drink is a common morning warmer and is a mix of White Lace Honeybee honey with hot water, Vodka, Honeycrisp Apple cider, and Cinnamon.

Boreal Brew-a tea made from the leaves of whatever green tree is available. Birch, Fir, Spruce, and Pine can all be brewed into an astringent tea with a citrus-y aftertaste. Unfortunately, Birch, Fir, and Spruce are typically harvested during Spring-Summer- but Pine is harvested during December. To help remove the bitter taste, Pine can be fermented with sugar for a week to a month (fermentation time depending on temperature) and then filtered and served as cold tea.

#Flight rising #food #FR headcanon #lore #my headcanon #Ice Flight #long post

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magickkate · 2 months

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🍂🌙Recipes for the Festivals 🌙🍂

Celebrate the turning of the wheel of the year with these magical recipes for the festivals:

Imbolc: Warm up with a hearty bowl of creamy potato soup, infused with the comforting flavors of garlic and thyme.

Ostara: Embrace the arrival of spring with a vibrant salad featuring fresh greens, strawberries, and edible flowers, dressed with a zesty citrus vinaigrette.

Beltane: Indulge in the sweetness of the season with a decadent dessert of honey lavender cheesecake, adorned with edible rose petals.

Litha: Fire up the grill and feast on grilled vegetables skewers marinated in a tangy balsamic glaze, accompanied by crusty bread and herb-infused olive oil.

Lughnasadh: Enjoy the bounty of the harvest with a rustic vegetable tart, filled with roasted root vegetables, caramelized onions, and creamy goat cheese.

Mabon: Cozy up with a comforting apple cinnamon bread pudding, drizzled with a warm bourbon caramel sauce.

Samhain: Delight in the flavors of fall with a spiced pumpkin soup served in hollowed-out mini pumpkins, garnished with toasted pumpkin seeds and a dollop of crème fraîche.

May your festive feasts be filled with magic and merriment! 🍁🥧

#magickkate #reference #kitchen witch #witch #witchcraft #witchblr #queue the magick #sigils #green witch #witchy

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gnostichymns · 2 months

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We may not know where our wishes will end up. But together, they will light up the night sky and turn it as bright as day.

ABUNDANCE:

[NEW YEAR MARKETS] - With so many vendors setting up shop, now is the best time to purchase a trinket as a reminder of the new year, or to get some much needed errands done.

[WANMIN MEAT CART] - Despite how short a trip it is, Chef Mao has some classic recipes right on the water, along with some brand new cuisines just for the Lantern Rite. Try some classic Mora Meat pastry, Dragon Beard Noodles, or his latest: Rex Lapis’ Delight!

[XINYUE KIOSK DESSERT CART] - If sweet treats are more your thing, just a few spots down is a stand specially reserved for Xinyue Kiosk’s brilliant desserts! Buy one dessert, get one free “New Moon Cake,” with not one, not two, but SEVEN original fillings.

[TEA TASTING] - Third-Round Knockout is offering a rare, once a year opportunity to personally taste test some of their newest flavors. Jasmine Pearl, Dragon Cinnamon Oolong, Aged Golden Dawn, Phoenix Fire Oolong, why not indulge in some of the finer things in life?

ELATION:

[DRAGON DANCE] - Join the Lantern Rite parade! With so many dragon puppets needing twice as many hands, join the show and dance until you drop.

[MAHJONG] - How about one of Liyue’s quickest games? Mahjong, known for its lightning rounds and fast-paced gameplay, is a classic this time a year. Surely you won’t be here all night…

[SHADOW PUPPETS] - Puppet shows are quite popular this time of year, using lights and small paper designs to convey thrilling tales. Comedies, Romance, Tragedies, woe, these poor hearts will be forever changed.

[DRESS UP] - Red and gold, the colors of each festival this time of year, are absolutely stunning. Glimmer and shine for the kamera, dress up and serve on the runway.

BEAUTY:

[LANTERN MAKING] - Each year, we send up glorious lanterns with our thoughts, prayers, and hopes for the future, and what makes them so special is that no one lantern is the same. Create your own work of art to carry on into the vast expanses of the night.

[CUSTOM FIREWORKS] - Art is passion and desire, fleeting as it is eternal. With brilliant dyes, light up the night in a wondrous explosion for just a moment, and create those lasting memories.

[DRAGON CHARMS] - Representing good luck and strength, creating a little charm of the dragon itself can often inspire hope while passing into the next year. Though, many Adepti now have become popular faces of such ornaments.

[JADE TALISMAN] - Pure and indestructible, jade is the embodiment of virtue and benevolence. Taking days to etch at a time, these talismans are truly a rare and valuable gift.

HARMONY:

[WORSHIPPING ADEPTI] - The protectors of Liyue are often secluded and forgotten about per their distance, though for the Lantern Rite, small shrines of each prominent Adeptus are made. With incense burning, make a prayer or offering to the illuminated beasts.

[PROSPERITY TOSS] - A common tradition to signify the end of the year and the birth of a new one is to create a bowl of fruits, vegetables, fish, and other fresh foods, and to feast. Many restaurants host these during the Lantern Rite to bring us together.

[RED ENVELOPES] - Though much more common, a sign of good faith and friendship often comes in the form of a red envelope. Containing a small sum of mora, each envelope is a gesture of amity.

[FEED THE KOI] - Koi represent harmony and wealth in Liyue, and a common tradition is to visit when the moon is at its highest. A small sacrifice, in the shape of some crackers or bread crumbs will often please these simple creatures.

#GHLanternRite2024

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socialist-microwave-laser · 9 months

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whats ur challah recipie? for the cinnamon ginger delight concoction? ill trade a recipe if you want, i make a banger lentil pie

oh omg thank you! the recipe is actually my roommate @edens-jorts 's, i just added the cinnamon ginger stuff bc i was feeling adventurous and wanted my apartment to stop! fucking! smelling! like! apple! cider! vinegar!!! (the previous occupants apparently attracted a bunch of flies </3) the challah is (mostly) as follows (i fully eyeballed it today bc eden will be bringing the measuring cups but i've been making it enough that it's still very fluffy and tasty)

Challah:

1 cup warm water - 250 g

2 ¾ tsp yeast / la levadura - 15.5 g

½ cup white sugar - 175 g

½ cup vegetable oil - 175 g

1 tbsp honey - 17 g

2 ½ teaspoon salt - 14 g

2 eggs (room temp) (mine have Never been room temp oops)

4 cups bread flour / la harina de pan - 1 kg

Glaze:

1 egg

~1 tbsp water

Add yeast to water with a little bit of sugar (probably about a tsp) and stir

Add all other ingredients in a separate bowl and then add yeast to that mixture. (i don't do this i just throw everything in with the yeast lmao) Mix until incorporated

Knead dough until it makes a ball and is less sticky—if very sticky or too dry you can add flour/water as needed. Should probably knead for about 5-10 minutes

Cover & put into a warm place for about 1.5 hours. Add or subtract time depending on temp but 1.5 usually is fine

Take out & punch down dough & let sit for 5 mins

Divide into 8 and make 8 strands

Make two braided loaves

Sprinkle w/ water (not too much or else your strands kinda melt together into one beast, just enough to make you feel like you did something), cover, & let rise for 1.5 more hours. Preheat oven to 350ºF/176.7°C

Glaze loaves w/ egg & water mixtures (recommend SOAKING it in this. don't miss a spot)

Bake for about 40 mins, adjust for size. Goal internal temp 190ºF/87.8°C

then for the stuffing stuff i based it off of a recipe (here) for ginger cinnamon rolls i attempted once (and will attempt again now that the air isn't clouded with smoke) but honestly i just went off vibes. i probably could have added more vegetable oil bc it was rather difficult to spread into the strands but eh it did its job. here's the relevant bit:

1/4 cup brown sugar - 56 g

2 tsp cinnamon - 28 g (definitely feel like i used more)

1 tsp flour - 14 g (ngl i think i definitely used less than this. maybe like a third tsp)

1 tsp ginger - 14 g (again feel like i used more, also i used ginger paste)

then i added vegetable oil till it got to a good consistency (it was like moldable and rather damp, again i could have added more to make it more runny and easier to spread but i didn't wanna "water" it down so i just decided to fill each strand with More Stuff)

when you get to the strand step, divide the dough into however many pieces you want (i've been doing six strand braids recently so i divided mine into 12). roll one out to a good length, then use your fingers to kinda spread it out and flatten it. use the back of a spoon and your fingers to spread the Stuff into it, then kinda pinch the strand back shut. you could probably use water to make it stick shut better but i'm not on food network so i gave up after my second strand (plus it made the workplace much stickier and made it harder to braid later on so maybe i'm onto something here). then rinse and repeat! except don't rinse your hands between strands bc the Stuff kinda transfers over onto the next strand when you're rolling and flattenjng and yeah 10/10

anyway my Stuff was a consistency that there was actually surprisingly little mess. when i pulled it out of the oven some of the stuff had like run over and it was all gooey and sticky and genuinely i swear this shit could be candy

if you end up making this lmk send pics and tell me what you think!!! my neighbor told me this is literally the best bread she's had her entire life which made me very happy. i hope you enjoy!!!

#recipes #baking #challah #happydayes28 #asks #jumblr

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treacherous-talks · 5 months

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So I am making my abomination welsh cakes and I thought some of you here might like to know - because it’s November and it’s cold and dark and I though you might need a treat.

Why abomination welsh cakes you ask?

Well, traditional welsh cakes are flat little cakes made with currents and they slap. They’re so good. My friend once asked me - with genuine curiosity - are welsh cakes a breakfast food? A snack food? A biscuit food? To have with tea? Supper? Midnight snack? The answer, of course, to all of these is yes.

Abomination welsh cakes are bastard cakes that my welsh grannies would be furious at because they spit on our history and traditions, but then my grannies would eat all of them because they’re so fucking delicious.

So they’re allowed. Begrudgingly. With shame. But they are allowed. My housemates love them, but they’re not welsh so they don’t understand.

Bastard cakes - welsh cakes with dried cranberry and white chocolate. Bougie welsh cakes. I’m so sorry.

But they go hard. They’re delightful.

Recipe under cut.

- 225g of self raising flour (or plain flour and add baking powder)

- 100g butter (I always used salted)

- 50g caster sugar

- Between 30-40g cranberries chopped up depending on how you feel

- Around 30gish of white chocolate cut up into small bits, measure with your heart - but not too many because your dough will be weird (I always use milky bar buttons chopped up)

- 1 egg beaten with 3 tablespoons of milk

- Pinch of salt

The real recipe for real genuine authentic welsh cakes that you don’t have to be ashamed of is:

- 225g of self raising flour (or plain flour and add baking powder)

- 100g butter (I always used salted)

- 50g caster sugar

- 50g currents

- 1 egg beaten with 3 tablespoons of milk

- Pinch of salt

Some people add cinnamon or spices to their welsh cakes. I was never taught that way so I don’t. Sounds delicious though. Some people use honey instead of milk/eggs. Sounds good too. Bake from the heart.

Method:

- In a big bowl, rub together the flour and butter. This is easier if the butter is at room temperature but can still be done if you (like me) forgot to take it out of the fridge. Just takes a bit longer. (If you’re using plain flour, make sure you add the baking powder to the flour before you start rubbing.)

- Rubbing is literally rubbing the flour and butter together with your fingertips. It’s messy. You end up with something that looks kinda like bread crumbs. Try and make sure you get all the flour, and don’t have big chunks of butter.

- Some people say you have to be delicate and like ‘rub gently or whatever.’ My opinion is that welsh baking is a lot like welsh people: stocky and hardy. These are not delicate little pastries, these are made to survive being knocked around in your pocket as you go on adventures in the welsh countryside. Go to town, rub as hard as you like (but with love. Even bastard cakes need love or they taste bad)

- Add a pinch of salt (probably easier to add to the plain flour in step one but I always forget)

- Add the sugar

- Add the cranberries and chocolate (or the currents if you’re making real welsh cakes)

- Give everything a mix

- Add - SLOWLY - the egg and milk. Mix as you go. Resist the urge to add more milk because it looks dry, ITS NOT, it just takes a moment to combine together. Get stuck in, use your hands.

- If dry (AND YOU’RE CERTAIN ITS DRY) add a bit more milk. If wet add a bit more flour.

- End up with sticky ball of dough.

- Hurrah!

- roll out dough on kitchen surface. Make sure you flour the surface or it’ll get stuck. Should be like 1cm thick, but go with whatever feels right. Remember they will rise when you cook them so you don’t want them too thick at this stage

- cut into circles with medium sized biscuit cutter. If you don’t have a cutter, the rim of a glass isn’t bad. A little ramekin dish isn’t the best but ok in a pinch. If you want to be really unhinged you could just cut out circles with a knife but like … don’t do that

- You’re aiming for around 12 - 14 welsh cakes from this recipe, depending on how big your cutter is.

- Ta Dah!

- So traditionally you’re supposed to use a griddle to cook welsh cakes

- I used to have one but it was a bitch to clean and it was so heavy. I just use a frying pan, I’m sorry granny

- On a medium heat, heat up your pan. No oil, no butter, nothing. We’re not frying them. ‘But they’ll stick’ they don’t. I dunno why, but they don’t

- MEDIUM HEAT IS IMPORTANT. I miss my gas hob, it was much easier. Cooking on the electric is more difficult, but doable. If your heat is too high, you’ll end up with welsh cakes that are burnt on the outside, raw in the middle. Too low and it’ll take 500 years. You want somewhere in the middle.

- If you get the heat right, they’ll take a couple of mins to cook on each side. I usually time mine for 3 mins and 3 mins, flipping with a spatula as we go. You want a nice golden brown on the outside when they’re done.

- THIS IS WHERE THE LOVE COMES IN

- Welsh cakes always take longer to cook than I think. In one frying pan I can do 3-4 at a time. You can’t rush them. Resist temptation to raise the heat - you’ll mess them up. Put on a show or a movie, cook with love.

- COOK WITH LOVE DON’T RUSH THEM

- the bastard cakes are harder to tell when done than the real welsh cakes. This is because the chocolate melts a bit when cooking so they look gooey in the middle when they are actually cooked. Go with the timings above and you’ll be ok. I’ve never poisoned anyone with my welsh cakes yet.

- I always take the little bit of dough left over from cutting and use that as my tester, and then eat it to see if it’s done. The first cake is always dodgy. Just eat it straight away and no one will know - try not to burn your tongue. I know the little circle of freshly cooked welsh cake straight from the pan doesn’t seem like it should be hot, but it is. I have not yet poisoned myself either.

- Sprinkle with a little bit caster sugar when done.

- Serve hot, serve warm, serve cold, really just depends on how patient you are.

- DONE!

Beautiful. Delicious. Can you feel the the spirits of your welsh ancestors beaming down at you with pride? It’s ok if you don’t have any welsh ancestors, you can borrow mine. ❤️

#treacherous talks #recipe #welsh cakes #bastard cakes #baking #wales

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felassan · 6 months

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Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas lore compilation / notes / thoughts [Part 1 of 2]

(Link to Part 2, in text form (pls copy-paste) as Tumblr won't let me add it as a normal link: https://felassan.tumblr.com/post/732826339350102016/dragon-age-the-official-cookbook-tastes-of)

Reference, info & general observations/ramble post ◕‿◕ (Post contents under a cut, in case anyone would rather not read cookbook spoilers. also due to post length)

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

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

This post is part 1 of 2, as it was getting rly long.

Dishes by type

Starters & Refreshments: Eggs à la Val Foret, Nevarran Blood Orange Salad, Fried Young Giant Spiders, Stuffed Deep Mushrooms, Rivaini Couscous Salad, Crab Cakes from Kirkwall, Fluffy Mackerel Pudding, Snail & Watercress Salad, Cave Beetles

For the Road: Spiced Jerky, Grey Warden Pastry Pockets, Pickled Eggs, Unidentified Meat, Seheron Fish Pockets, Fereldan Hearty Scones, Crow Feed, Black Lichen Bread, Hearth Cakes, Peasant Bread

Soups & Stews: Merrill's Blood Soup, Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup, The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, Fish Chowder, Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup, Lentil Soup, Nettle Soup, King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew

Main Courses: Stuffed Cabbage, Antivan Gnocchi, Antivan Paella, Grilled Poussin, Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce, Nug Pancakes, Fish in Salt Crust, Roasted Wyvern, Nug Bacon and Egg Pie, Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie, Cacio e Pepe, Turnip and Mutton Pie, Smoked Ham from the Anderfels, Roasted Turkey with Sides

Sides: Sera's Yummy Corn, Stuffed Vine Leaves, Honey Carrots, Nevarran Flat Bread and Yogurt Dip

Sweet Delights: Blancmange, Poison Stings, Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler, Dwarven Plum Jam, Sour Cherries in Cream, Treviso Energy Balls, Rice Pudding, Goat Custard

Baked Goods: Antivan Apple Grenade, Found Cake, Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls, Croissants, Cherry Cupcakes, Chocolate Cake, Varric's Favorite Pastries, Sugar Cake, Lamprey Cake, Tevinter Pumpkin Bread

Drinks & Potions: Lichen Ale, The Hissing Drake, Hot Chocolate, Antivan Sip-Sip, Dragon Piss, Rivaini Tea Blend, The Golden Nug, The Emerald Valley, Chasind Sack Mead

Notes: These dish 'categories' are from the book contents pages, which can be viewed here.

Dishes by place / culture of origin (DA Cookbook-specific list)

Ferelden: Pickled Eggs, Fereldan Hearty Scones, Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup, Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup, King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew, Nug Bacon and Egg Pie, Turnip and Mutton Pie, Chocolate Cake

Kirkwall: Crab Cakes from Kirkwall, The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, Roasted Turkey with Sides

Orlais: Eggs à la Val Foret, Grey Warden Pastry Pockets, Honey Carrots, Blancmange, Sour Cherries in Cream, Croissants

Tevinter: Unidentified Meat, Stuffed Vine Leaves, Cherry Cupcakes, Tevinter Pumpkin Bread

Antiva: Crow Feed, Fish Chowder, Antivan Gnocchi, Antivan Paella, Cacio e Pepe, Treviso Energy Balls, Antivan Apple Grenade, Antivan Sip-Sip

Nevarra: Nevarran Blood Orange Salad, Nevarran Flat Bread and Yogurt Dip

Rivain: Rivaini Couscous Salad, Goat Custard, Rivaini Tea Blend

Seheron: Seheron Fish Pockets

Starkhaven: Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie, Roasted Turkey with Sides

Free Marches: Roasted Turkey with Sides

Anderfels: Smoked Ham from the Anderfels

Avvar: Snail & Watercress Salad, Stuffed Cabbage, Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce, Fish in Salt Crust, Roasted Wyvern

Chasind: Grilled Poussin, Chasind Sack Mead

Dalish: Spiced Jerky, Hearth Cakes, Peasant Bread, Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler

City Elf: Peasant Bread, Lentil Soup

Orzammar / dwarven: Fried Young Giant Spiders, Stuffed Deep Mushrooms, Cave Beetles, Nug Pancakes, Dwarven Plum Jam, Lichen Ale, Black Lichen Bread

Unspecified (DA Cookbook-specific list): Fluffy Mackerel Pudding, Merrill's Blood Soup, Nettle Soup, Sera's Yummy Corn, Poison Stings, Rice Pudding, Found Cake, Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls, Varric's Favorite Pastries, Sugar Cake, Lamprey Cake, The Hissing Drake, Hot Chocolate, Dragon Piss, The Golden Nug, The Emerald Valley

Notes: Fluffy Mackerel Pudding seems to be Fereldan as it's found in DA:O in this Codex entry at the Arl of Redcliffe's Estate in Denerim. Snail & Watercress Salad isn't traditional Avvar cuisine; though snails are standard Avvar fare, this salad which has them in conjunction with other ingredients is Devon's take on snails that they made for their Avvar hosts. The given Spiced Jerky recipe is Dalish, but the book notes that preserved foods like it play an important role in many different Thedosian cultures. Grey Warden Pastry Pockets are a variation on a tough Grey Warden pastry which incorporates the far more delicate Orlesian puff pastry, that was championed by newer Warden recruits from Orlais. Unidentified Meat is usually served with Nevarran Flat Bread. Black Lichen Bread doesn't explicitly say but is clearly dwarven, as it references "underground" versus the "surface" and the dwarf Garin in Orzammar mentions it in DA:O. Peasant Bread is both Dalish and City Elf. Merrill's Blood Soup could be Dalish in origin as it's a recipe of Merrill's. Devon's Lentil Soup recipe has classic Tevinter flavors in it. Roasted Turkey with Sides is found throughout the Free Marches. Sera's Yummy Corn could be Fereldan in origin as it's a recipe of Sera's. Poison Stings is likely Tevinter as Dorian is fond of it. Rice Pudding could be Antivan or Rivaini as in Thedas you don't see much rice outside of Antiva or Rivain, or perhaps Tevinter or Qunari as it was a dish made by Krem, Iron Bull and the Chargers. Found Cake could be Fereldan as it's based on Dog's Found Cake in DA:O. Sugar Cake was purchased from a surface dwarf merchant and is based on Sugar Cake from DA:O (Feraldan dish? Dwarven?). Lamprey Cake was Devon's pickled lamprey-inspired cake, with pickled lamprey itself being a "singular" (implied: odd) favorite of an Orlesian noble. The Hissing Drake, The Golden Nug and The Emerald Valley are drinks served at the Gilded Horn in Orlais. The Emerald Valley's place of origin isn't given in the book, but we know from this Codex that it includes a spirit that is Orlesian, having been made in Lydes. Going by Iron Bull's dialogue with Varric, hot chocolate/cocoa is not from the south and is rare there. Dragon Piss could be Fereldan as it's based on Dragon Piss which is found in Ferelden.

Alphabetical ingredients / 'foodstuffs and drinks which exist in Thedas' list (DA Cookbook-specific list)

Notes: These ingredients are derived from the dish names and the lore blurbs (which appear to be in-world), not the recipes and associated ingredients lists themselves (which appear to be our world/irl-based). Also, this is a sort of scrappy list with mixed singular/plurals, some repeating stuff (e.g. I know pork, bacon, pig and ham is all "pig"), some non-specific stuff e.g. "herbs", and some stuff that is more 'a combo food' than 'a single ingredient' e.g. "dough", but just go with it ok hh, it's just meant to be a quick 'n' dirty reference list as a resource not a perfect culinary thing:

“Bitter greens”, Ale, Almonds, Antivan pasta, Antivan wine, Apples, Apple blossoms, Apricots, Assorted “forest fruits”, Ayesleigh gulabi goat (a breed of goat from which some goat’s milk is derived), Bacon, Bark, Bark bread, Barley, Beetroot, Biscuits, Black cherries, Black lichen, Blended teas, Blood oranges, Brandy, Bread, Buns, Butter (halla and other types), Cabbage, Carrot, Cave beetles, Celery, Chasind Wildwine, Cheese, Cheese sauce, Cherries, Chicken, Chickpeas, Chocolate, Chocolate cream cake, Cinnamon, Cocoa, Cocoa powder, Corn (yellow and non-yellow varieties), Couscous, Cows, Crab, Cranberry, Cream, Croutons, Currants, Custard (many variations), Cuttlefish, Dark bread, Deep mushrooms (several varieties), Dough, Dracolisk? (in one ‘sus meat’ recipe Devon wondered if it could be this), Dried fruit, Dry cheese, Eggs, Egg-white foam (for drinks, due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Fereldan ale, Fereldan barley, Figs, Fish, Flat bread, Flour, Flowers (over 70 different types of herbs and flowers used for food & drink exist), Giant spiders, Giant? (in one ‘sus meat’ recipe Devon wondered if it could be this), Gnocchi, Goat’s milk, Goats, Grains, Grapes, Grease, Gurguts, Halla butter, Ham, Harts, Herbs (over 70 different herbs and flowers used for food & drink exist), Hirol’s Lava Burst (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Honey, Hot peppers, Jams & preserves, Jasmine flowers, Jerky, Lamb, Lamprey, Leeks, Lemon, Lemon juice, Lemon verbena, Lentils, Lichen (underground and surface varieties), Lichen ale, Licorice root, Llomerryn red, Llomerryn rum (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Lurkers, Mackerel, Mango, Marshmallow (presumably meaning both the marshmallow plant and marshmallows, the confectionary that was originally made from the marshmallow plant. The form given in the cookbook is Orlesian guimauves, which accompany Iron Bull’s hot chocolate. “Guimauve” is French for marshmallow), Mead, Milk, Mincemeat, Mint, Mushroom, Mussels, Mutton, Nettle, Noodles, Nug, Nug bacon, Nuggets (nug-gets), Nutmeg (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Nuts, Oats, Oil, Olives, Onion, Orange, Orange peel, Oregano, Pasta, Pastry, Peas, Peanut butter, Peanuts, Pepper (as in black pepper etc), Peppermint, Pickled things, Pickled vegetables, Pie, Pig, Plums, Pomegranate, Pork, Potatoes, Poussin, Prawns, Puff pastry, Pumpkin, Quillback (in one ‘sus meat’ recipe Devon wondered if it could be this, and in DA:I some NPCs mention it), Rabbit, Raisins, Rams, Raspberries, Red bell peppers, Red grapes, Rhubarb, Rice, Rolls, Royal elfroot (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Rum (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Saffron, Salt, Semolina flour, Sheep, Shrimp, Smoked meats, Snails, Sour ale, Sour cherries, Spices, Spinach, Spirits (as in alcohol), Strawberries, Sugar, Tea, Toasted bread, Tomatoes, Truffles, Turkey, Turnip, Tzatziki sauce, Vine leaves, Waffles, Water, Watercress, West Hill brandy, Wheat, Whipped cream, Whiskey (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), White chocolate, White frosting, White Seleny wine, White wine, Wildflowers, Wine, Wraps (soft), Wyverns, Yogurt

'See also' / 'did you know':

Eggs à la Val Foret

Fried Young Giant Spiders: previously made an appearance in the DA tabletop. The player party arrives at Chanra Thaig and sees "Bonfires built inside steel drums provide warm and heat for the dwarves huddled around them, cooking deepstalkers, what looks like the legs of giant spiders, and small rodent-like animals on spits". The dwarves have "fuel, water, and domesticated spiders and nugs in deeper chambers for food".

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding

Snail and Watercress Salad

Cave beetle previously made an appearance in the DA tabletop. They're described as "scavengers and carrion eaters", "black" and "hard-shelled". They're also known as "rock beetles" and are "little more than a nuisance on its own. Dwarves are even known to roast and eat them out of the shells".

Pickled Eggs (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Seheron Fish Pockets: Iron Bull has dialogue where he says "I remember one guy, he made these things - fish wrapped in thin bread". He was talking of a street food vendor in Seheron who had been forced by Tevinter spies to poison his food. Fittingly, in the cookbook Devon narrates that they learned this recipe from a Charger.

Black Lichen Bread: Garin from DA:O had an incident a few years back where he cut himself and some raw lyrium dust got into his blood. Since then it's been hard for him to concentrate and he's forgetful. He mentions bread that's made by using lichen (I think he mentioned that his lunch was a slice of lichen bread). interestingly, like lyrium, the cookbook lore blurb for Black Lichen Bread contains reference to how black lichen is toxic.

Hearth Cakes (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Peasant Bread: appears in The Masked Empire. in the Dalish camp, Dalish cooks prepared a midday meal, which was served along with peasant bread. "It was almost equal parts wheat, salt, and grease, and in lean winters, it was sometimes the only thing that could put meat on a peasant's bones." Michel watches an old elven woman drizzle honey across a piece and remembers his City Elven mother putting a bit of sugar she had stolen from the tavern she worked in on his piece of bread. The cookbook lore blurb for Peasant Bread says it is eaten by Dalish elves and City elves alike in Orlais, with the recipe being "very straightforward, calling for wheat, salt, and grease in nearly equal parts". Also, in The Last Court, Seraultine (Orlesian) peasants are described as eating bread at mealtimes

The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew: in a DAII loading screen, it says that the tavern's feature dish is a stew made from a different mystery meat every morning

Fish Chowder: in DA:O Zevran says "Can you smell that? Like rotting flesh. Just like back in Antiva City. Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder and a corrupt politician, I'd really feel like I was home!"

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup (the cookbook lore blurb mentions the Orlesian troupe of actors from the show Wilkshire Downs. in this codex they are mentioned along with "cabbage stew")

King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew: Alistair and Leliana have this dialogue in DA:O about this dish (Ctrl-F "pea stew").

Antivan Gnocchi: In Tevinter Nights (Eight Little Talons), the Crow leaders eat gnocchi with dinner

Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce

Nug Pancakes, two

Fish in Salt Crust

Roasted Wyvern. Also Isabela has dialogue in Mark of the Assassin where she says "I hope I'm not expected to eat roast wyvern after this." The lore blurb in the cookbook for this dish also references this Codex

Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Cacio e Pepe: First mentioned in Tevinter Nights (The Wigmaker Job). Illario complains "This isn't Cacio e Pepe" while making a show of tapping his dagger against a plate of leftovers. Lucanis replies "You ordered an Antivan dish in Tevinter. What did you expect?", to which Illario quips "Something edible".

Turnip and Mutton Pie

Smoked Ham from the Anderfels: a servant in Mark of the Assassin offers Hawke and Tallis "smoked ham from the Anderfels. They say it tastes of despair". Tallis replies "Wait, does it really? How can ham taste of despair? Why would anyone eat it if it did?". The servant explains "That's what the importer said. They all talk like that" apparently. This dish is also mentioned in DA:I. After WEWH Dorian says "I hope you tried the ham they were serving, by the way. Tastes of despair. Fascinating". The cookbook lore blurb asserts that contrary to rumors and what the importers say, this ham does not, in fact, taste of despair. Also, see The Jade Ham (tumblr won't let me add it as a proper link: https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/The_Jade_Ham), as the cookbook lore blurb references this item and its description

Roasted Turkey with Sides: Roast turkey previously made an appearance in the DA tabletop. Lady Sennova hosts a gala/party in Orlais, which players infiltrate/attend and at which food and drink is served. "The Game is about appearances as much as it is about outright treachery, so a dead rat discovered in the roast turkey could serve as a crueler twist of the knife than an actual twisting of the knife". The cookbook lore blurb references the comic Knight Errant, which involves Sebastian's birthday dinner party

Sera's Yummy Corn (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Dwarven Plum Jam: in DA:O a Diamond Quarter noble dwarf says something like "I will die without my favorite plum jam from the surface!" The cookbook lore blurb references the fact that in Orzammar, jam from the surface, especially jams made from plums, are in especially high demand and cost exorbitant prices

Rice Pudding: in DA:I Krem mentions a time when he, Iron Bull and the Chargers defended a village from fifty bandits. Afterwards the villagers paid them for their services in bags of rice. He says that they made rice pudding after that. The cookbook lore blurb references this story of Krem's

(new text block because the previous text block hit a character limit hh)

Antivan Apple Grenade: the cookbook lore blurb references Antivan Fire Grenades (two), which spread sticky fire. maybe it's my brain conjuring up sticky toffee/toffee apples, but I wanna say that this dish would not only be hot but also sticky :)

Found Cake

Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls: in DAII Sandal says that Orana smells of cinnamon rolls, which was interesting to me as DAII is the game where Varric is introduced and his first (and greatest) batch of cinnamon roll friends, the Kirkwall Crew, are featured in

Croissants: Calix and Vaea eat something which arguably look like croissants in the comic Dragon Age: Deception, in an inn in Tevinter.

Cherry Cupcakes: the cookbook lore blurb says these are served by servants on stilts at the Tevinter theature. in the comic Dragon Age: Magekiller, Marius is depicted serving an array of treats and snacks to a Tevinter elite at the Tevinter theatre while on stilts. some of the cupcakes on his tray bear somewhat of a resemblance to the cupcakes in this recipe.

Sugar Cake

Pickled Lamprey: the cookbook lore blurb is referencing the book Last Flight, where Norbert de la Haine and his unfortunate fondness for pickled lampreys is mentioned.

Lichen Ale

The Hissing Drake. the cookbook lore blurb mentions the Gilded Horn

Hot Chocolate: Iron Bull discusses his penchant for this drink with Varric. "How do you guys live without this stuff?" he says. Varric replies "I don't see what the deal is, honestly, but different tastes..." / "Now I just need some hot milk and some of those Orlesian guimauves to put in it" / "Hey, what you do with this 'cocoa' is up to you. I don't need to hear about it"

Antivan Sip-Sip

Dragon Piss, two

Rivaini Tea Blend: In Masked Empire Celene drinks a Rivaini blend of tea containing cinnamon, ginger and cloves, sweetened with honey. the cookbook lore blurb references Celene drinking Rivaini Tea Blend throughout the day to combat headaches, but this tea blend consists of peppermint, lemon verbena, oregano and licorice root. Rivaini tea also crops up here.

The Golden Nug, two

The Emerald Valley

Chasind Sack Mead

Characters mentioned or alluded to in the cookbook

Devon (new character, writer and narrator of the book), Merrill, Alistair, Sera, Varric, Solas, Cassandra, Fenris, Cullen, Sten, Iron Bull, Bull's Chargers, Krem, Nan (possibly, if she is Devon's mother), Norah (possibly, as the waitress at The Hanged Man), Zevran, Morrigan, the Hero of Ferelden, the Inquisitor, Josephine, Paragon Varen, Leliana, Schmooples, the Hero of Ferelden's mabari, Sebastian, Cole, Vivienne, Dorian, Anders, Loghain, Bethany, Hawke, the Couslands, Bodahn Feddic (possibly, as the Sugar Cake item in DA:O is sold by him and Devon narrates that they purchased one from a surface dwarf merchant who said that the Hero of Ferelden purchased some for their companions), Norbert de la Haine, Isabela, Celene, Briala, Gaspard

"Cookbook canon" (notes about the particular worldstate/universe that Devon wrote the cookbook in)

The cookbook was written at some point after the appointment of Divine Victoria, placing it at at least one month after the DA:I base game concludes (at least one month after the defeat of Corypheus). The narrator, Devon, has met and spoken to at least some of the companions & related prominent NPCs, including Varric and Krem. Devon visited Haven.

The HoF was a Cousland. The HoF caught Schmooples for Leliana. Loghain survived DA:O and DA:I, as he's referred to in the present-tense at the time the cookbook is written. Alistair is King of Ferelden. The HoF may have been a lady who romanced Alistair (if you argue that the inclusion of Alistair's love letter to the Warden & the necklace from this merch item as a prop in the photo for Rivaini Couscous Salad as indicator. interesting that the photo where this item is prominently displayed is for the Couscous of all things. back in the day I remember folks calling Cousland "Couscous" hhh).

Hawke was a warrior or rogue and Carver died in the prologue. Hawke was probably Diplomatic. Hawke did not romance Sebastian (in the cookbook he is Prince, and Sebastian reclaims his title as Prince by DA:I unless romanced, in which case he's the Chantry advisor in Starkhaven).

The "worst of [Cullen's] lyrium withdrawals" are mentioned so it could be that the Inquisitor advised Cullen to stop taking lyrium. Cassandra Pentaghast is the Divine. Celene is the Empress of Orlais - possibly ruling "alone" or possibly in the Celene-Gaspard-Briala "work together option", going by "Given how messy Orlesian politics are wont to be, with chevalier cousins vying for the throne and elven handmaids turned both spymaster and lover".

Also, this might be just me and my assumptions or reading of it, but of the companion characters referenced in the book (see section above, Characters mentioned or alluded to in the cookbook), such as Cole, Sera, Merrill, Fenris etc, I feel like it's safe to assume that in this worldstate they were all recruited by the relevant PCs are alive and well (including the Chargers).

Merch items & similar that appear as props or edits in photos

Alistair romance bundle (necklace and letter in Rivaini Couscous Salad. the necklace appears again in Goat Custard. the box can be seen in The Golden Nug)

Grey Warden pendant that shows the griffon heraldry (not sure if this is from the Gear Store or somewhere like Etsy. Grey Warden Pastry Pockets). this reappears in Sugar Cake

Solas Jawbone Necklace (Pickled Eggs. hhhh. unlike in Eggs à la Val Foret the blurb here doesn't mention Solas, but he's repped here anyway by the necklace hanging in the background hh)

Cullen's Lucky Coin (The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, Stuffed Vine Leaves, Antivan Sip-Sip)

In Nug Pancakes this red Inquisition banner with the handprint is in the background (seems to be from game files/in-game props). the red Inquisition banner appears again in Chasind Sack Mead

In Nug Bacon and Egg Pie, there is a nug in the background, presumably looking on in horror as their spouse has been transformed into a pie

In Turnip and Mutton Pie is a necklace that looks like the one Varric wears

Templar Banner (Roasted Turkey with Sides)

Inquisitor's iconic helmet replica (Roasted Turkey with Sides. hhh, this reminds me of the ones that are props in the queue area for the Dragon Age-not Dragon Age-ride)

In the background of Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler a nug is peeking out

Antivan Apple Grenade contains a map of Westeros hhh. You can see the Three Sisters, the Neck and the Bite

A physical version of this Thedas map appears at various points e.g. Chasind Sack Mead

DA:I advisors coin set (Tevinter Pumpkin Bread) - for some reason Tumblr won't allow me to add the link to this one as an actual link, but you can find it here: gear.bioware.com/en-eu/products/dragon-age-three-advisors-coin-set

A green orb that I would guess is meant to be reminiscent of the ones Solas has you use during Measuring the Veil (Tevinter Pumpkin Bread)

Inquisition symbol pendant (not sure if this is from the Gear Store or somewhere like Etsy)

(You can get 20% off in the BioWare Gear Store until November 6th using my latest discount code BWCUISINE. After that date check back here for a new code. alternatively, you can use my >tracking link<.)

Some random thoughts

Shoutout to the photo for Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie. It looks a lot like the illustration in World of Thedas of this dish! you can see that they really took it into consideration when creating this dish/image.

I feel like you can also sense the inspiration in general vibe/feel in Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler from Dalish Deep Forest Comfort in WoT.

The black and gold theme colors of the cover remind me of when DA:D branding was black and gold.

Recipe pages I have posted that you can view in full: Spiced Jerky, Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler, Hearth Cakes, Merrill's Blood Soup, Lentil Soup, Peasant Bread, Dragon Piss

Recipe and other pages that were already available to view in full from the official preview pages: intro page, intro page 2, intro page 3, Contents page 1, Contents page 2, intro page 4, Devon's letter, intro page 5, Starters & Refreshments section intro page, Eggs à la Val Foret, Fried Young Giant Spiders, Fereldan Hearty Scones, Nug Pancakes, Roasted Turkey with Sides, Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls, Nevarran Blood Orange Salad recipe (pic), Stuffed Deep Mushrooms recipe (pic), Rivaini Couscous Salad recipe (pic), Crab Cakes from Kirkwall recipe (pic), Fluffy Mackerel Pudding recipe (pic), Snail & Watercress Salad recipe (pic), Cave Beetles

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 (❁´◡`❁)

Link to Part 2, in text form (pls copy-paste) as Tumblr won't let me add it as a normal link: https://felassan.tumblr.com/post/732826339350102016/dragon-age-the-official-cookbook-tastes-of

A post you may also be interested in: Food and drink lore compilation from Dragon Age: The Last Court

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