#so i’m not Regular White i’m Spicy White

[kitthew]

genealogy is suuuuuch a boring and confusing and stressful hobby until all of a sudden u find something that makes soooooo much sense and all the dumb weird pieces start fitting together and u feel like ur meeting urself for the very first time!

[cevansbrat0007]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMr8fYuj5/

I can see so clear Bird putting Ari in the dog house again and later in the day he arrives at her home with a bag full of her favorites snacks, heat pads, painkillers and a note for his sweet wild woman

Summary: Somehow, Ari always seems to know all the right ways to take care of you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Fluff, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Brat!Reader, References to Menstrual Cycles & PMS, Cuddles, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You automatically perk up from your place on the couch when you hear the slam of your front door. Ari had left the house hours ago, muttering something under his breath that you hadn’t quite been able to make out. 

“Beast?” You call when he doesn’t immediately appear. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“Is that my Bird in there?” He quickly fires back. “Is that who I’m talkin’ to?”

His unexpected dramatics immediately set your teeth on edge. Just what the hell did he mean by all that?

“Who the hell else would it be?” Your question comes out sounding more like a growl. 

Instead of answering you’re treated to the sound of footsteps as Ari finally makes his way to you. But instead of coming all the way into the room, you’re confused when he chooses to poke his head around the corner. 

“Just checking.” His wary blue eyes are sparkling with a hint of mirth. 

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Nah, baby. Just bein’ careful.” Ari steps out hiding then, his brawny arms laden with several brown grocery bags.

“Why the hell would you have to be careful?”

“Because when I walked out the house earlier I did so under the impression that my woman had been replaced by one of those she-demons you only read about in books.” He offers you an unrepentant shrug before setting his purchases on the opposite sofa. “Aww, c’mon now. Don’t make that face."

“I’m not makin’ any kinda face, you Beast.” You huff, doing your damndest not to pout. “I just don’t know what the hell you’re goin’ on about.”

“Then how come you’re over there looking like you’ve been suckin’ on a lemon?” The handsome bastard has the nerve to smile at you as begins digging items out of one of the bags. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not, you –” Your petty retort is interrupted when your bounty hunter suddenly chucks an orange bag at your head. Thankfully, you manage to catch it before it makes contact with your face. “Jalapeño cheetos?”

“Yep.” He grunts, giving you a knowing look. “I also got you the regular ones too in case you decide those are suddenly too spicy for you.”

“Oh.” Is all you can muster, turning the bag over in your hands. These were your favorites whenever you allowed yourself to indulge. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah. Not done yet, baby.” 

You watch as he systematically begins pulling items out of the bags. He also makes a point of showing you each one, much to your overall chagrin. 

“Let’s see…” Ari moves the bags to the floor, which allows you to get a good, long look at all of the treats and treasures he procured while he was out. “We’ve got us another bag of Cheetos, plus a bag of white cheddar cheese popcorn. Next up, we’ve got two hefty slices of strawberry cheesecake. I got my own, so you don’t have to share,”

Smart man.

“I mean…” You quietly hedge, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “I don’t know why you felt compelled to buy all this stuff.” 

“Oh you don’t, huh?” His eyes go wide as he cocks his head to the side.

“Nope.” The word tumbles out of your mouth with a soft pop.

Instead of responding he chooses to simply ignore you. “Here we have a variety of chocolate bars – milk chocolate, milk chocolate with fuckin’ caramel, milk chocolate with some kinda weird nougaty shit, you get the idea.” He spares a glance in your direction long enough to study your face. “We’ve also got dark chocolate with both sea salt and some kind of intense orange peel somethin’. Do any of these work for you?”

“Why, yes, all of them but–”

“Moving on, I’ve got a box of cocoa, peppermint tea, and oh! Nearly forgot the fuckin’ heating pad.” Ari holds up the box so that you can see it. “If this isn’t the right one I will go back out and buy another.” 

The seriousness of his features makes it plain that he’s not kidding. He gingerly hands the box to you, giving you a moment to peruse the information included on the box.

How the hell could he have known that yours had only just gone out? Oh. Because you’d mentioned it the night before last. It always seemed to surprise you just how much this man seemed to listen to you. 

“This is...this is good.” You tell him, hugging the box to your chest. “It’s great, actually.”

“Thank Christ.” He breathes, relief evident in his tone. 

“Ari, did you do all this because I was feeling a little snippy this morning?” While his intentions were sweet, they also felt like a little over the top 

“Snippy? Is that what we’re calling it?” His tawny brows shoot up high enough to reach his hairline. “Because this morning you threatened to beat me with a sack of oranges for snoring too loud.”

Oh. Right. Oops.

“And when I made the mistake of walking on the carpet in my work boots, you literally threatened to unman me.”

“I was worried about the mud.” You mumble with a wince. 

“And the fact that you just so happened to be aggressively chopping vegetables at the time? Pure coincidence?”

“Yep.” Your voice comes out so small you almost surprise yourself.

“And then, when I tried to apologize and take ‘em off, you told me you were gonna throw me and them into the nearest lake. And then fly in a pack of gators to make sure that we were never seen or heard from again.” 

“A joke.” You try once more. “That’s all.”

“Yeah well, I’m not the type of man to make jokes about a woman’s monthly bein’ on the horizon.” Ari picks up a small box of what looks to be medication. “But even so, I also know how to count.” He adds with a shrug before taking a step towards you. “My sisters swear up and down that this Midol shit works wonders with demon feelings.”

“Thank you.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble when your man reaches out to gently cup your chin.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No.” You reassure him, your hand going to gently grip his wrist so you can stroke your thumb over his pulse “I’m sorry.”

Ari stares you at you for a beat, before finally leaning down to tenderly brush his mouth over yours. “S’alright, sweet Bird.” He repeats the action, smiling into the kiss when he feels you relax against him. “I reckon it ain’t all your fault.” 

“You’re too good to me, baby.” You try to pull him down on the couch with you, only to pout when he resists.  “C’mere…” You whine. “I wanna make it up to you.”

“Let me go put this stuff away first.” He rises to his full height before politely taking the box from your hands. “Unless you want some of it now.”

You take a minute to think. “Just some chocolate please.”

“Any preference?”

“Dealer’s choice.” 

Ari tosses you a random bar, which you eagerly accept without so much as a second look. You tear into it, barely removing the foil before taking a bite. It goes down so good you can’t help but have another.

“Now, I won’t be gone but a minute.” Just in case, he decides to leave you with the box of Midol as well. 

Meanwhile, you decide that it’s in your best interest to remain quiet. Because unbeknownst to this man, you had actually gotten your period today sometime after he’d left the house.

“And if those demon feelings start to come back, you just pop a couple of those, alright?” He’s still so incredibly serious about this that all you can do is nod.. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” You’re rewarded with a flash of teeth posing as a grin. “And when I get back, do you, uh…” He rolls his broad shoulders. “You think you got any room for me on that couch?”

Instead of responding, you choose to offer him a bite of your chocolate. You’re secretly more than a little giddy when he accepts. It was a sign that all was forgiven. 

“Why don’t you hurry back and find out?”

Still grinning, you watch as Ari hastily gathers up all of your goodies before taking off in the direction of the kitchen. “Go on and turn on one of those horror movies you like, little Bird. I’m gonna need you to snuggle close to make up for how you treated me today.” 

With that he’s gone, leaving you with just enough time to retrieve extra blankets and pillows from a nearby closet. Forget a heating pad. Having you man this close was practically like having a human furnace at your beck and call. 

Jesus Christ, how did you get so lucky?

“Beast?” You let your voice ring out as soon as you’ve found yourself a good movie. It’s been ages since you’ve watched Paranormal Activity, and you had it on good authority that Ari had never seen it.

“Yeah?” He bellows from the next room.

“Bring us a slice of cheesecake to share. I wanna enjoy it with you before we get too scared.”

“Whatever you want, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he's laughing at you in the sweetest way possible.

And quite honestly, in this moment, you wouldn't have it any other way. 

END

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[spicyclover]

Soft morning

Summary : Once again, we wake up in bed together. We're naked and snuggly, with brains that are still foggy and sleepy, but bodies that are ready to dance.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING : soft smut | praising | description

He kissed her gently, taking her mouth with spellbinding tenderness, tasting her sweetness. She whimpered. The vibration sizzles through him and stiffens Mick’s already erect cock. He presses his hardness against the firm, silky flesh of her bottom.

"Good morning, baby," she coos, putting her hand around his neck.

"Good morning.” Mick smiles and leans in to whisper in her ear, “I’m so hard for you.”

“And I’m wet for you.”

Her hair lies like a fan on the white pillowcase. Her breathing is slow and regular, the lateral profile of her breasts easily visible. Her nipples stiffen, magnifying the fullness of her ample curves. She is amazing. A lazy half-smile spread across her face. He traces with his fingers along her skin until his fingertips met a peaked nipple. She melted into him, pressing her warm, curvy ass against his hard-on. He grows harder. Mick press his cock against her bottom and kissed her, his tongue blazing a trail from her ear to her jaw, and finally to her hot lips.

"I love your lips on mine," He uttered his words between two tender kisses. This thought is more personal than he wants, but he can’t deny it.

She slides her hands along the muscles of his chest and their breathing develops rapidly and the pressure their tongues probe each other’s mouth. He grabs her lower lip between his teeth and she escapes a sweet moan. Pushing himself upright, he sweeps the blankets and draws a path between her chest and her hip. Then, Mick puts her on her back and presses his knees so that he can rub her clitoris on her panties, noting the increasing moisture of the fabric.

"I love mornings like this. I never want them to stop." She chuckles and bites her lips.

Blushed cheeks, and bright blue eyes, she watches him stoop to his full chest. His expression shows the raw and wild effect he has on her. She never hid it, never hid her fierce hunger for him. She is so open and needy and sexy as fuck. His chest tightens. He kisses her cheek to her jaw, licks her neck, and then lowers her scarlet and swollen breast. Her full breasts are plump with excitement, and her nipples stiffen into hard spikes. Mick devours her left nipple, sucking and sucking with need. When he bites the beaded tip, she inhales strongly, her fingers raking the skin of his back while he slips my hand into her panties.

She is completely soaked. And he needs to taste it.

He stoops down and grabs her ankles, pushing her legs up, reveling in her magnificent curves. He slips her panties half-thigh and looks at her. They closed their eyes and she smiled, that sensual smile as she let her knees fall closer to her body, exposing her most private and vulnerable part.

Perfectly styled, her pink folds shine under the soft sun that danced on her skin. Mick lifts her legs for better access and he kisses the back of the thighs. Her breath taken in anticipation of what would happen, and he slowed his descent, kissing and licking a trail along the back of his legs, a slow and deliberate torture. Finally, the need to taste her sweet flavor dominated him and he took a long, slow blow of her silky sex. As soon as his tongue meets the delicate skin of her clitoris, she gasps audibly. He slips his tongue along its smooth folds and her legs have separated in response.

"You taste like heaven." He said with a wet nose and swollen lips.

Her nectar is intoxicating and his raging cock is tense as he caresses her in long lazy strokes. She moans involuntarily and her chest rises and falls with irregular breaths. Mick reaches out his hand and rolls her tight nipple around his fingers, causing a panting moan. He looks at her face as he slips a finger into her, possessing it, then two fingers. Her lips parted, and her skin reddened with a mask of ecstasy.

Then Mick takes off her panties, slowly and surely, prolonging the sweet agony. He kisses her feet and when her panties fall on the floor, she spreads her legs, her sex quivering in anticipation. His mouth is on her the next moment and she moans, her knees falling even further. She squeezed the back of his head and forced his tongue to work until it was wet.

"More..." she moans between two breath.

He reaches down and caresses his cock, now wet with pre-um. As if she felt his urgency, she sits on the bed and pushes him on his back. His badass is heavy and thick against his belly, imploring her expert touch. She knows him like no other woman. She grabbed the base with her hand and looks so perfect wrapped around his thick root. She looked up at him, her lips parted, her mouth bending in the corner in a sneaky smile. Then she took a long blow from the crown.

The sensation explodes in him, radiating from his heart with this tongue stroke and he moans. Rejected, she took it in her hot and wet mouth. The pink lips covered his cock, his blue eyes pinned to hers she aspires, taking its length. Mick’s eyes widened when she reached the base, stunned that she could take everything. She pulls back with a firm suction and the air seems cold where her mouth has been. She pumps it and caresses his balls with her pretty hand. She licks the crown, her tongue swirls, slowly, quietly turning around and up and down, finally bringing it back into her mouth once more. Mick bends his back in feverish abandonment. His balls tighten as his cock throbs, desperately needing to sink into her, fill her, claim and own every inch of her.

"Stop, he commands, so close."

Mick gets up and pushes her unto her back, spreading her legs where he huddled at the entrance of her sex. She reaches out and grabs his cock, pumping it, sliding it against her smooth pussy. He must be inside her. Mick sinks his cock head into her pink opening and when he encounters resistance pushes further, finally breaking her tender flesh.

Her gentle moans inflame him more and the next moment he is completely buried in her, surrounded by her humid heat. Mick looks down, observing, mesmerized by the beauty of seeing his thick cock moving in and out, disappearing repeatedly in it. This is the ideal point of view to see her breasts bounce with each push, her clitoris engorged palpitating with excitement. The pleasure radiates throughout her body from the hot and tight flesh surrounding my cock.

He caresses her clitoris and using the pads of his fingers, traced the smooth opening of her slit. Then using only his middle finger, he sank into her and she trembles, her hips rising as he touches his burning core where his cock will soon follow. He fingers her with a deliberate and enticing touch as she squirms and gasps, her sex softening even more.

He rubs his head against her soft pink folds, up and down, against her clitoris. Mick repeats it several times until her whole body is a thin layer of sweat. She gasps and scratches the sheets.

"Oh, baby," she moans. "Please. I can’t wait."

Again, Mick shoves his cock into her with a weak grunt. This time, her flesh resisted only momentarily before giving way completely. He has buried himself to the hilt in her damp heat. Their flesh slips against each other, warm and smooth with sweat.

"Ooh!" She sighs when his cock reached that tender place deep inside.

"You are mine," the words come from his mouth in a guttural and wild voice.

He turns her on her stomach, pulls her hips up and he sinks into her from behind. Mick then watches as he removes his cock, the juice so thick and wet that fascinates him by the evidence of her intense excitement. Knowing how excited she is for him, she encourages him even more and he dives into her, voracious and greedy, filling her from root to tip.

He pushes his cock in and out, unable to stop himself from pushing her to the limit, taking as much as he can, as hard as he can. Her mouth is open and her breathing is fast, moans gushing from each push.

"Oh, my God," she whispered through raging breaths. "I’m so close."

The friction of his sex is accentuated by the inclination of her ass and when her hips begin to undulate, her core tightening, he knows that she is close to coming. He pounded her enraged cock into her faster and faster, grabbing her shoulders and neck to immobilize her, my hips twitching. She screams as the climax quivers through her body from head to toe.

Tension accumulates, the heart deeply coiled, excitement settles inside until finally, without warning, his climax loads and he loses all control.

“Ahh, fuck!” Mick curses. With a guttural moan his orgasm tore through him, and savagery took over. His hips jerks wildly as his cock exploded, and he spurts hot and hard inside her, angling her hips and sinking even deeper so his pulsing cock filled her with cum.

“Give it all to me baby,” she encourage as her pussy milked every last drop from him, his entire body quaking with bone-deep shudders.

Spent, Mick collapse onto her side, his body quivering in aftershocks, his mouth dry as he tries to catch his breath. She reached around and cupped his face, smiling her sexy, just-for-him smile.

Still buried deep inside his lover, he leans down to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, Micky.”

[impala-dreamer]

Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious

A Ten Inch Hero Story

~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~

Boaz Priestly x F!Reader

2,511 Words

Warnings: Nuttin' but fluff and banter. ;)

A/N: This is another square for my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt is "Backhanded Compliment/Convenience Store/Sugar Addict"

Now listen- I've never written for this movie before, but I had so much fun doing it. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll love this. If you haven't seen it, you may not totally get it, but you'll still love it because it's cute and fluffy and I said so. Give it a chance ;)

Another day, another spicy Italian with no oil and no vinegar. How you could eat a hero dry was a question he could never quite grasp the answer to, but in the end, did another weird order really matter? He’d put a condom on the bun if they asked for it. Maybe not a used one, but then again, Tish was looking extra spicy herself today.

Tish. Goddamnit. There she goes flirting with every male in existence except him. There she is leaning over the counter in that not-so-sneaky way that pushes her tits up and out, giving everyone and their mother a look into the valley of the Promised Land. 

For fuck’s sake, if she’d only do that for him. 

Then again, nothin’ he hadn’t seen before. 

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Priestly blinked himself back into reality. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, still half dazed and half hard after staring so intently at his coworker. 

Piper sighed. “Yeah. You gotta make a run down the street.” 

He sighed harder. “You know, you ladies are capable of patronizing the convenience store now and then. It’s not really hard. You just pick out what you need and exchange it for cash.” 

The tiny blonde pouted and batted her lashes. “Please? My feet hurt from standing all day.” 

He scoffed. “And mine don't?” 

“I’m not used to it. I’m delicate.” 

Priestly scratched at the bright green spikes that sat atop his head for the day, masquerading as a hairstyle. He frowned but relented. “Fine. Gimme the list.” 

He saw her from the street. He wasn’t purposely peeping through the window like a stalker, but he felt like it all the same. It wasn’t his fault, not really. Things mostly stayed the same around town, so when something was different, when someone new showed up, it tended to stick out a bit. 

The new girl at the register was cute, not particularly daring in her style or makeup palette, but she was attractive. Probably the thing Priestly noticed first was the lollipop stick hanging from her painted lips. 

His entrance was announced by the jangling of bells and she looked up as he came in. She smiled around the pop and twirled the white paper stick between her fingers. 

“Welcome.” 

He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Hey.” 

Slowly, she pulled the treat from her mouth and licked the very tip. Her tongue was as red as the pop and Priestley was sure that his cheeks were turning the same shade. He cleared his throat quickly and turned back, going about his business. 

The store was otherwise empty except for Mr. Jacobson, the old man who never seemed to go anywhere but was always wherever you went. He was currently lingering at the end of the aisle, amazed at the sheer amount of chip flavors the new millennium had to offer. 

“Back in my day we had regular and salt & vinegar, and we were grateful!”

Priestly laughed under his breath and looked over the rack at the register. She was laughing softly as well, and when their eyes met, she didn’t shy away. 

He did; quickly tearing his gaze from the cherry pop and focusing on the aluminum foil instead. There was no use flirting with her anyway- she’d never go for him. She looked too normal, too pretty to fall for his shenanigans. Best not to even think about it. 

Arms fully stocked, he headed her way, keeping his eyes on the black and gray tiled floor and praying she wouldn’t make his heart race any faster. 

She sucked hard on the Blow Pop and then took a bite, making him jump. Sugar crackled between her teeth and she winked.

“I hope you overcharge them,” she said dryly, staring him down. 

Confusion took the place of shyness and Priestly’s face scrunched up. “What?” he snapped, jerking away from the counter. 

The girl rolled her eyes and went about ringing up his order without another word. 

Cash exchanged, Priestly thanked her and walked out, still wondering what the hell she was talking about. 

Monday. 

Priestly stared out the front window, wondering if the day was going to go his way or not. He knew he shouldn’t bother pondering the Fates, because they always seemed against him, but he liked to think he had some hope tucked away somewhere beneath the Manic Panic hair dye and all the metal sticking out of his head. If there was, he couldn’t find any today. 

Tish was late, as usual, probably rolling out of some strange guy’s arms and fishing for her bra underneath the bed. 

Someday… someday, that’d be his bed she was searching under. Someday, those would be his arms she rolled out of. He just had to keep hoping.

Or not. He really didn’t care. 

The sun was too bright, the grill was too hot. He hated everything. 

Except the sound of bubblegum popping behind him. He didn’t seem to hate that. 

With spatula in hand, he turned and startled just enough to make the bubblegum appear between coyly smiling pink lips. 

“Hey.” 

Priestley squinted. “You’re that chick from the store.” 

Annoyance crept onto her face. “And you’re that dude with too much eyeliner.” 

He laughed before realizing she was insulting him and ended up jolting up on his toes awkwardly, half a smile curled on his lip. 

He cleared his throat. “Priestly.”

She squinted. “Like Elvis?” 

He shrugged. “And you are?” 

“Hungry.” 

Slapping a five on the counter, she picked up her hero and spun away, heading toward the door. She turned to push it open with her backside and popped her gum again. 

Her eyes were glued to him and Priestly felt his stomach flip. He met her gaze and she smiled. 

“I always do.” 

He wanted to say something, to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was gone before the words reached his tongue. 

“Always do what?” 

Jen turned her head his way, but her eyes were still locked on the computer screen. “What’s up?” 

He sighed. “Nothing. Just a weird girl from…nothing.”

It was nothing. She was just the weird girl from down the street. And anyway, he was supposed to be hating everything today, not shifting his ponderance to the mystery of the gum chewing, pop crunching girl from the convenience store. 

“Nothing.”  

Blue hair; don’t care. 

Priestly cracked an egg on the grill and watched the edges sizzle. He wasn’t great at a lot of things, but cooking eggs was something he did exceptionally well. The butter bubbled around the perimeter, curling the whites just slightly, and he pushed the tip of his spatula against it. 

Not ready yet. 

The girls were, yet again, chatting about men, and he kept one ear on the sizzle and the other in their conversation. 

“I just don’t understand how hard it is to find. It’s right there.” Tish laughed and pushed a delicate hand back through her hair. “It’s a clit, not the Holy Grail.” 

Priestly raised a brow. “Some would call it that though,” he interjected. 

She rolled her eyes. “You would.”

Offended, he sucked in a quick breath. “Ya know something-” 

She turned, one hand on her hip, waiting. “Yeah?”  

His lips pursed and dejected, he turned back to the grill. “Forget it.” 

“Thought so,” she laughed. 

God, she was such a bitch sometimes. OK, most times, but still.

Tish went back to leaning on the counter and he took the opportunity to peek at her ass. 

Behind him, a throat was cleared. 

Priestly sighed, knowing what was waiting for him when he turned. Or, rather, who. 

“You again.” He batted his lashes. 

She smacked her lips. “Me again.” From her pocket, she withdrew a pink Starburst and fiddled with the wrapper. 

He eyed the candy and followed it to her mouth. Her lips were darker today and it reminded him of the cherry pop. “You eat too much sugar, you know that?”

She smiled gently. “And you dye your hair too much. That isn’t good for you. All those chemicals are gonna fry your brain.” 

“Joke’s on you, it’s already fried- shit!” Fried egg. Burnt to a crisp. “Damnit.” 

Sugar Girl swallowed a laugh and the Starburst. 

He turned around, annoyed at himself and her laughter. “Are you- do you want something?” 

“Yup.” She nodded and took her order from Piper, who was holding a small, paper-wrapped hero. “Thanks.” 

Green eyes narrowed on her smile. She was weird. Way too weird. And kinda rude. 

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he asked, calling out as she pushed open the door. 

“Sure,” she replied, “Soon as I get my free sample.” 

“Huh?” 

Confusion always seemed to linger when she left, that and the smell of strawberries. Or cherries, or whatever she’d been sucking on. 

Sucking on…

His eyes flickered over to Tish and he wondered if she was as good at sucking things as she claimed.

It was raining and he was cranky. 

He’d missed his alarm, the car wouldn’t start, and a passing bus nearly drenched him head to toe. 

It wasn’t supposed to rain at the beach. It was practically against the law. Nature’s law, anyway. 

And to top it all off, Tish was bragging about the amazing night she’d had with a handsome stranger visiting from New York. 

“He’s just in town for a few days, so it’s nothing serious,” she explained to a wide-eyed Piper who was drinking down every word. “But man, I wouldn’t be mad if it was. He’s… tall and handsome and-” 

Priestly cleared his throat. “Ya know I’m pretty tall.” 

She clicked her tongue. “And?” 

His heart ached at her callousness. “And… just thought I’d remind you.”

Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing to him, but he thought his advances were fairly obvious. Maybe she was just a bitch.

Jen derailed his thought train with a shopping list she’d printed out. 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Please?”

The shop on the corner was the last place he wanted to go. Nameless Sugar Girl was the last person he wanted to see. “Why do I always have to go?” He pouted and gestured to the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.” 

Jen looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Which is why I’m asking you to please go.” 

A heavy sigh was his only reply. Priestly grabbed the paper from her hand, crumpling it beyond repair, and set out into the downpour. 

He was dripping by the time he made it down the street. He sneered at the water on his face, rolled his eyes at the welcome mat, swatted viciously at the bells as they rang above his head. 

“Rough morning?” she asked, watching his huffy entrance. 

He scowled. “You could say that.” 

A peppermint rolled on her tongue and the red and white stripes caught his eye. “Well, lemme know if you need any assistance.” 

Priestly ran a hand through his teal-tinted hair and shook out a puddle’s worth of rain. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

It took him a while to collect the goods, having trouble finding the right paper towels that would fit into the holder in the bathrooms. He’d never had any issues in the store before; seemed like someone had rearranged. 

Someone. 

He looked across the rows of sundries and wondered what her deal was. Hell, he still didn’t even know her name. Not that he wanted to, of course. 

Of course. 

Finally, and with much annoyance, he arrived at the register. 

She laughed softly as he unloaded his arms. 

He shook his head. “What?” 

“I… I shouldn’t even touch this one.” 

He had no clue what she was talking about, he never did, and he was at the end of his rope. 

His patience snapped. “What?”

She sat back, clearly hurt by his tone. “Your shirt.” 

She pointed at his chest and he looked down, reading the big black letters upside down. 

‘Save a tree, eat a beaver’

His shoulders fell. “Oh. Yeah. Whatever.” 

“Yeah,” she echoed, the sting heavy in her voice. “Whatever.” 

He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping a can of coffee onto the counter, he slapped his palms down on either side of it and leaned in. 

“Ya know, everytime I see you, you’ve got something snarky to say.”

Her eyes went wide. “Snarky?” She frowned. “I thought I was flirting.” 

The fight drained out of him along with the blood in his cheeks. Confused once more. “Uh… what?” 

Pushing herself up off the stool, she mirrored his pose, hands falling dangerously close to his. “Flirting,” she said again. “It’s an ancient ritual in which a sexually interested party attempts to lure their prey into bed with witty and charming wordplay.”

He balked. “I know what flirting is!” 

She glared. “Then why haven’t you picked up on the fact that I’ve been trying to pick you up for weeks now?”

“I uh…” His elbows buckled and he stood up fully. “You have?” No way. She wasn’t…

Memories of the past month flooded his mind. Each time he’d seen her she was smiling at him, not being snarky. She was teasing him, answering the ridiculous sayings on his shirt. 

‘I sell crack for the CIA.’ … “I hope you overcharge them”

‘Surf naked.’ … “I always do.” 

‘Orgasm Donor - Ask for your free sample’ … “As soon as I get my free sample.”

It had been smacking him in the damned face and he hadn’t seen it. She had been playing with him the whole time, not trying to annoy him. She wanted him to notice her, but he was too busy dreaming of Tish, wondering when she’d notice him. 

He sucked in a stunned breath. “You have. Wow.”

A tiny smile returned to her cherry lips. “Come on, I know you’re not as dumb as your fashion sense implies.”

Priestly felt a dip in his gut, something fluttering around inside. He grinned. “Oh, I’m way dumber.” 

Reaching across the counter, she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him close. “Good.”

Her lips were soft, the kiss as sweet as the candy she was always eating. He breathed her in as her tongue swept over his.  He was stunned, confused but in a good way. Maybe he needed to push Tish aside and pay more attention to the world around him. Maybe this was a good thing. A really good thing. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his blood pressure raised even higher.

She pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his. 

“You get it now?” 

She waited, blinking at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He should have looked sooner, closer; should have given her a chance.  

“Yeah,” he whispered in a laugh. “I think I do.” 

Another kiss, a press of her hand at the nape of his neck. 

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” 

She smiled. “Y/N.”

He reached for her cheek; fingers landing lightly on her soft skin. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[kutner-elegist]

this will be kutner related bc i love my idiot indian man. make him make thirteen eat spicy food. she dies. kutner doesn't even have a particularly high spice tolerance thirteen is simply white

apologies for not following your request exactly but lest we forget Kutner was raised by white parents eating white people food and to me Kutner is likely Gujarati and/or Punjabi gleaning from his late parents' names and also the fact that Kal Penn is Gujarati and those regions have less spicy foods compared to southern India and also Thirteen seems like she can take some spice (for a white person) so this is gonna be a bet (Hot Ones style if you've ever seen them) that comes close but Kutner wins only because he is more committed to the bit and masochistic than Thirteen (the end part got sad just so you know)

Kutner and Thirteen sat across from each other, both their countenances intense. They each had ten pieces of buffalo wings neatly lined up before them, with cold bottles of beer on the side for palate cleansing. In the center were ten different bottles of hot sauce. Quiet severity emanated from their staring match.

House towered over them at the head of the table. Foreman, Taub, Wilson and Cuddy were on the opposite side.

Foreman broke the silence. “What exactly are they doing again?”

Taub tilted his head, his eyebrows still raised. “They’re playing chicken with … chicken wings, I guess.”

“Hot wings,” Kutner emphasized.

“Kutner is Kutner, but why are you doing this?” Foreman said to Thirteen.

“He thinks I can’t handle spice because I’m white.”

“Why do you care—”

“Ask questions later,” House cut him off. “The game is on. Ante omnia, we must ensure that they haven’t used any performance enhancing drugs. Their blood was screened for painkillers, and Wilson watched them until the results came back all negative. If they used local anesthetics that might be undetectable such as Cetacaine, its effects should have worn off by now, but we still need to make sure.”

“You let them do blood tests for this?” Foreman asked Cuddy.

“They paid for it.” Cuddy shrugged.

“Shush.” House scolded Foreman. He then commanded, “Kutner, say ‘Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie.’”

“Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie,” Kutner obliged effortlessly.

“Now Thirteen.”

“Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie,” Thirteen glided through the tongue twister as well.

House held up one of the hot sauce bottles, the label facing the spectators. “We shall begin with Cholula Original, around 1000 in the Scoville scale. On your mark, get set, eat!”

They bit into their chicken wings. In the blink of an eye, they were both holding defleshed bones.

“This isn’t even spicy.” Kutner put down the bone.

“It’s regular stuff,” Thirteen agreed.

They raised their beers, clinked their bottles together and took a small sip.

“Next up, Valentina Black Label, 2100 SHU. On your mark, get set, eat.”

They quickly ate them up again, and licked the sauce off their fingers.

“This is nothing,” said Kutner.

“Nothing,” Thirteen repeated.

Again, they had a sip of beer just to cleanse the palate.

“Third, Tapatío, 3000 SHU. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“It’s alright,” said Kutner.

“Uh-huh,” said Thirteen.

Thirteen drank a little more beer than Kutner.

“Tapatío is hot,” said Taub. 

“To you.” Kutner looked at Taub with his smug grin.

“Quaker Steak Buckeye BBQ, 5000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

Kutner devoured it quickly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Thirteen took a little longer, but finished it soon enough. She held her sip of beer a little bit before swallowing it.

“Tabasco Habanero, 7000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“Ooh, it’s starting to hit,” said Kutner.

Thirteen’s pale skin was flushed, but she remained composed. They both had a gulp of beer.

“We are only halfway there. The sixth is Crazy Jerry’s Brain Damage, 11,000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“Why are you eating something called Brain Damage?” Foreman stepped forward. “It will certainly hurt your GI system.”

“Only a little, and temporarily at that. These are all FDA approved for retail,” said House.

Neither Kutner nor Thirteen responded to Foreman. They managed to finish the wings, but not as easily. Kutner silently drank his beer. Thirteen fanned her face with her other hand while she drank hers.

“You can stop anytime you want, you know,” said Kutner.

“You wish,” Thirteen retorted, but she was a little out of breath.

“Dragon Repellant Knightmare, 15,000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

Thirteen hesitated before biting in. Kutner gobbled it up, as if he wanted to get it over with as fast as possible. They emptied their beers, and House replaced the empty bottles with new ones. Thirteen fanned her face with both of her hands. The redness spread to her neck. Kutner was getting flushed as well, just not as noticeable on his deeper complexion.

“They’re FDA approved for a little dip, not whole chicken wings covered in them.” Foreman approached Thirteen. “Remy.”

Thirteen dismissed Forman with the wave of her hand. “I can take it, okay?”

Foreman turned to the rest of the spectators. “This is stupid!”

“Which is why it’s funny,” said Taub.

Wilson nodded in agreement.

“Why are you allowing your employees to endanger their health?” Foreman asked Cuddy.

“They’ll do it even if I tell them not to, and I’d rather be present in case damage control is needed.”

“Foreman is trying to dissuade Thirteen, which is only going to motivate her more. He’s interfering with the competition by giving unfair advantage to one side,” said Kutner.

“Yes. Foreman, shut up. Taub, say something discouraging to Kutner to make it even,” said House.

“I don’t think the guy who willingly electrocuted himself can be discouraged from anything,” said Taub.

“True, and that statement would have the desired effect, so good enough. Blair’s Jalapeño Death, 20,000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“Whoa.” Kutner recoiled after eating it, breathing rapidly. He chugged the cold beer. He took off his hoodie.

Thirteen coughed. She tried to drink beer to cool down, but ended up choking on it a little. Foreman leapt toward her. House barred him with his cane. “No entering the ring if you’re not playing.”

“You know what,” said Thirteen, coughing and breathing heavily. “You win, Kutner. I give up.”

“Technically, he has to complete the next round to win. Otherwise, it’s a tie.” House looked at Kutner.

Kutner’s face was distorted with agony, but he muttered, “Bring it on.”

“Very well. Blair’s Original Death, 30,000. Whenever you’re ready.”

Kutner took some time to regain his composure, and ate the ninth chicken wing. He immediately washed it down with the rest of his beer.

“We have a winner!” House exclaimed.

Wilson and Taub clapped and cheered. Cuddy rolled her eyes. Thirteen finally calmed down from her coughing fit and she kept drinking the beer. Kutne, however, remained seated. His eyes were fixed on the last remaining wing on the plate.

“Come on, you won. It’s over.” Taub tapped Kutner on the shoulder.

Kutner reached for the last hot wing. Everyone felt their own bodies growing tense as he painfully finished it off. House handed him another beer, and he chugged it down. He panted, and his skin glistened with sweat.

“You’re insane!” Thirteen yelled.

“That one was called Pain 100%, 40,000. This proves my hypothesis that you are a masochist.”

“I’m not a masochist!” Kutner protested between gasps.

House leaned over toward Kutner. “You already won. You didn’t have to touch that last one. You love to gloat, but right now you’re in too much pain to do that. You want pain more than you want victory.” House stepped away from the table and walked over to Wilson.

“This wasn’t as entertaining as I thought it would be,” Wilson said to House.

“We didn’t do it for your entertainment,” said Kutner. He was still recovering from Pain 100%.

“What did you do it for?” Taub asked.

“It’s not a dare if there’s a purpose,” Kutner replied.

“So you did it for nothing.”

“Pretty much.”

Taub sighed. “Have fun digesting all that. I’ll see you tomorrow, unless you need a sick day.” He walked out.

“At least this is over,” Cuddy grumbled before she left.

House and Wilson left as well. Kutner and Thirteen cleaned up the table. Foreman stayed behind to help.

“It’s still pretty impressive that you lasted as far as you did.” Kutner’s gloating smirk was back.

Thirteen laughed. “My insides are already burning.”

“I’ll finish cleaning up. You go get some rest. Drink water,” said Foreman. His eyes followed Thirteen through the window until she was out of sight. Then, he hissed, “Why did you put her up to this?”

“House and I ironed out the details, but having a match was her idea.” Kutner shrugged, his eyes wide open.

“You provoked her first.”

“I didn’t mean to provoke her, okay? It was an off-handed joke.”

“You should have said no when she wanted to do a match! You know she has—”

Foreman stopped mid-sentence because Kutner stepped closer, almost getting in his face. “She has a fatal neuromuscular degenerative disease. You think you know where it goes because you’re a neurologist, but you don’t. Neurologists just refer them to rehabilitation and follow up every now and then. You don’t even do that, because you work for House now. You confirm a diagnosis and your work is done. I did my residency in rehabilitation medicine. I’ve seen where it goes, many times over. Lifestyle changes are helpful, but it doesn’t change the destination or the course. It hardly even delays the inevitable. If she wants spicy chicken wings, she’ll have the goddamn spicy chicken wings. I’ll do whatever she asks to make her day exciting. I care about her. Maybe not in the way that you do, but I do. I won’t apologize for her decisions to you.” Kutner stormed out of the room.

Foreman continued to wipe the already-clean surface of the table.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from four anons and some of my own ideas. I thought in honour of Tom’s Jonathan Pine look making a comeback and the prospect of a Season 2, now is the perfect time for some spicy spy action! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2881 Warnings: smut

After Roper’s death, a lot in our own life changed. You moved away from Spain and back to the UK with a fresh start in your suitcase. Your new job in the publishing industry enabled you to meet the authors of the books you were passionate about and you could help discover new talents whose stories would enrich countless readers’ bookshelves.

It was peaceful now. Safer—for at no fault of your own, it hadn’t always been like that. You were young when you fled to sunny Spain to discover yourself, learned Spanish to the point of fluency and started a job at the local library that regularly held readings for both adults and children.

It all went well, for a while. Right until little Danny Roper stepped foot in the library for the first time, accompanied by two brooding bodyguards and a charming British gentleman you, for some reason, instantly mistrusted.

Richard Roper, a wealthy businessman with a mansion all to himself. Perhaps it was unfair to assume he had blood on his hands because of how heavy his wallet was but your instinct had never betrayed you before. Soon, little Danny Roper regularly came to visit the little library, took part in the readings and had you recommend new stories to him, always under the scrutinising eye of his bodyguards or his father.

On the night of Halloween, everything changed. The kids loved the spooky holiday. They were allowed to wear costumes for the themed reading that night and you spent the entire evening before long after the library had closed decorating for the occasion. The sweets you had bought for the kids to eat had come out of your budget but seeing their wide eyes upon entering the small library on the 31st had been worth every single penny—or cent, in this case—spent.

Danny Roper came too. Dressed in a mummy costume with a face full of paper-white make-up and armed with an orange pumpkin basket for his sweets, he was one of the first kids to make himself comfortable in the reading corner in the front row. But there was someone else with them that night. Someone you had never seen around before. He didn’t look like a new bodyguard but he was handsome. Blue eyes, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, a five o’clock shadow, and dark-blond hair you instantly felt the urge to ruffle. Your heart skipped a beat when he locked eyes with you for the first time. You could practically feel his intrigued gaze burning through your skin when you read some child-friendly Halloween stories to the kids and from then on… he kept on coming back. Sometimes in the company of Danny and his bodyguards, sometimes alone. And each and every single time he asked you for recommendations for a new horror book, borrowed one, and returned the old one giving you detailed and positive feedback that he usually delivered with a charming, British smile.

You realised soon enough that his regular visits were but an excuse to see you again—but he remained distant, never made a move to ask for your number or a date. Perhaps it was for the best, you thought at the time. If he was with Roper then he was not to be messed with, a dangerous man to be around, and not the type of guy you should wish to be affiliated with.

“I’m glad Danny asked me to join him on Halloween. You have made this place truly special,” he had said one day. “Have you known them long? The Ropers?”

Alarm bells. Alarm bells loud and clear had rang in your head and almost drowned out the sound of your book scanner when he’d slid yet another horror novel towards you on the counter.

“Only for about a year. Danny has picked up so many children’s books I will need to restock to find new novels for him at this point. Richard Roper donated ten thousand euros to the library back in January.”

“Are you the owner of this library then?”

“Oh no, I only work here. But I am in charge of all the boring accounting paperwork.” Whatever had lit up in Jonathan’s blue eyes, was gone again before you’d had a chance to analyse it. But it had been suspicious enough for you to gather all of your courage, and look around briefly to ensure you were alone.

“I… can I give you some advice? Leave. As long as you still can. Something’s not right about this man. I don’t know what that poor kid is caught up in but my hands are tied,” you had told him with a lowered voice.

Jonathan had frowned at you, pressed his lips together to a thin line. Then, without another word, he had picked up his novel and left the store.

The following night, he’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere after you’d closed the library for the day and asked you out for dinner. One dirty martini afterward led to two and that very same night, you fell asleep in Jonathan Pine’s bed in a luxurious hotel room he was staying in for reasons he had not elaborated on much.

A couple of evenings and more passionate sex—the best sex you’d ever had—later, you had shown him the donation certification, complete with all the relevant bank details. Confidential data which could have gotten you into big trouble, both with the library and Richard Roper himself. A few more nights after that… Jonathan disappeared for a while and you realised that he had only used you—and your body—for information.

It had baffled you back then, when, almost a month after, he showed up on the doorstep of the library, beaten, bruised, and half-dead. No police, no hospital, he had murmured over and over and you, having fallen in love with the man unconditionally, had hidden him and nursed him back to health. For weeks on end, Jonathan Pine lay low in the cellar that acted as an inventory for the library, living off of takeaway food you smuggled down to him day after day. He told you everything. How he had been sneaked into Roper’s family as a spy to put an end to his schemes at long last, how Roper sold deadly weapons that killed hundreds of people, and how incredibly sorry he was for putting you in all this danger.

One night, while he was still recovering from his injuries and you stayed in the library with him to make sure he didn’t develop a fever, he whispered your name in his sleep, hands blindly attempting to reach you, touch you, explore you, and pull you close.

He confessed he was in love with you the morning after and a few weeks later, after Roper had finally been arrested, you moved back to the UK with him. Here you were now, climbing up the career ladder in the publishing industry.

Jonathan had left his spy days behind for now and accepted a job as the night manager in a lovely hotel in the heart of Switzerland over the winter. You’d be apart for a few months and it had broken your heart to hear of it even though you were more than happy for him and the opportunity he had been offered.

Two weeks after his departure, your boss had asked you to join her on a business trip to that very same hotel to meet with an internationally best-selling author whose next book series was going to be translated into thirteen languages.

Jonathan didn’t know you had just landed in Switzerland. He didn’t know you were coming to stay at his hotel. The name the rooms were booked under was your boss’ assistant who Jonathan had never met before. Needless to say, when you entered the lobby and the warm air enveloped you welcomingly, scaring away the Swiss winter air, his stunning blue eyes widened. You failed to suppress your smirk, knowing very well how much he was struggling with remaining polite and professional—after all, you were with your boss and her assistant.

“Good evening! Sorry, our flight was delayed a little. I’ve got three rooms booked under the name Elsa Higgins?” the latter greeted him.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Higgins! Good evening, ladies. Please, allow me to welcome you to the Meisters. My name is Jonathan Pine and I’m the night manager. May I offer you any refreshments?”

Your boss shook the snow off of her beret and began taking off her winter coat. Jonathan was by her side instantly, helping each and every one of you out of your winter gear—even though with you, his touch lingered for just a second too long, his fingertips brushing against the back of your neck. You shivered. Fuck, you had missed him so much.

“Thank you, Mr. Pine,” you mused, watching him struggle a bit with how you addressed him before he poured you all a glass of champagne. Then, he moved behind the counter to sort out your rooms and hand you your keys while the concierges busied themselves with your suitcases and disappeared out of sight quickly.

“Our concierges will be taking up your luggage at once, as you can see. Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime? Have you had dinner yet?”

“We have, thank you. We’re just very tired from the flight. Could you show us to our rooms? This hotel is so big, I feel like I’m gonna get lost!”

“Of course, dar-, Miss. Please, follow me.” He caught himself before the word “darling” could escape his lips. Chuckling to yourself, you stared at his sexy back and entered the lift right after him.

“He is so hot!” your boss whispered to you. Heavens, he was. He looked so handsome in that navy blue suit and the white shirt… and that tie! You had to remember to get rid of those damp panties of yours later and sneak them into his pockets somehow—because the mere thought of him taking off that tie and using it to bind your wrists together got you so wet you had to clench your legs on the way up. If only your boss and her equally yearning assistant knew you regularly had the pleasure to fuck this man…

Jonathan was reluctant to leave you behind after letting you know about the breakfast times, the pool opening times, and that he was at your service for anything at all, at all times during the night. And oh, you might just take him up on that offer…

“Thank you, Mr. Pine. I’ll be sure to call if I need anything.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and when you came back, yours and the door of your boss were still wide open, denying you the privacy you craved. Besides, Mr. Jonathan Pine had to remain professional at work. You chuckled once more, making quick work of stuffing your spoiled panties into his suit jacket. He pretended not to be fazed by it but for a spy, he was pretty bad at hiding how much he was struggling with keeping his composure.

But that was only the beginning. You were feeling adventurous tonight. And so, after wishing your boss and her assistant a good night, you got ready for bed, making yourself comfortable on the soft mattress and the lavender-scented bed sheets completely naked, and then used the phone on the nightstand to call the reception. It was shortly past two am by now. Surely, the lobby was deserted.

You hummed contently when he picked up and purred your last name with a seductive ‘Miss’ in front of it into the speaker. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, you see… I’m so lonely in this big suite, Mr. Pine. So very lonely. Is there a way you could keep me company? I am so tense from the journey,” you mused, dragging out your last “so” to the point you could hear him breathe heavily on the other end of the line.

Jonathan cleared his throat. There was absolutely no way he hadn’t discovered yet just what exactly you had shoved into his pocket. He was probably clutching at it with his free hand right now.

“Ah, well, I am afraid our masseuses don’t start their shift until seven am, Miss, but perhaps I can arrange some other… form of… relief for you.” His voice became raspier and darker the more words escaped his lips.

“Really? That would be quite wonderful. You see, Mr. Pine, the sheets are so soft and comfortable, I figured I don’t even need any sleepwear.”

Jonathan took a deep breath. A short moment of pregnant silence followed and then, “I’ll be right up, Miss.” With that, he hung up.

You giggled to yourself, counting the seconds. He must have taken the steps, for only forty-three strikes of the second hand on the clock above the massive sofa in the suite later, you heard a gentle knock on your door.

Rushing over on bare feet, you hid behind it as you opened it for him to conceal your nakedness from the bright lights in the hallway, the both of you drowning in comfortable darkness and only the pale moon shining through the massive windows illuminating both your features as soon as he’d closed the door again behind him.

“I have ten minutes,” he murmured out of breath before his lips came crashing down on yours. You laughed against his mouth, his feverish urgency instantly infecting you. Jonathan’s touch was like a fire ignited inside of you by the single stroke of a match. Step after step, he guided you back towards your bed without ever breaking the battle of tongues you fought out, his hands exploring your naked curves and kneading your butt cheeks thoroughly before pushing you down on the mattress.

Jonathan was above you within a fraction of a second, one of his knees keeping your legs apart, his hand snatching your wrists and pinning them down above your head. Finally, he released your lips to let you catch your breath for a moment.

“Naughty girl, slipping your used underwear into my pockets… you little tease…”

“Aw, I thought you’d appreciate my little gift,” you mocked—your chuckle soon turned into a moan, however, when he gently bit the underside of your left breast, followed by his tongue tasting your nipple.

Jonathan’s dark growl was unlike anything you had ever heard from him when his one free hand struggled to undo his belt and the buttons of his suit trousers. You were pretty certain he hadn’t even taken his shoes off but by the time he finally managed to push the fabric down to his upper thighs, he was as hard as a rock, his red tip leaking precum teasing your entrance.

There was no need for him to prepare you. You had been soaked and ready for him ever since your arrival at the hotel. Jonathan wasted no time. He positioned himself swiftly, pulling your legs apart even further, and then, sheathed himself inside of you with but one fluid movement.

The both of you moaned in unison, his forehead resting against yours. Jonathan kissed you again when he pulled out to thrust up into you, your hips bucking to meet him. His free hand remained where it was—right between your legs where your bodies were joined.

As he fucked you hungrily, his fingers quickly found a little toy to play with—and knowing Jonathan, he was a skilled lover. He had you on the brink of orgasm in no time, his rhythm relentless and his strokes hard.

You arched your back the closer you crept to the edge, breaking his kiss to gasp for air and throw your head back which he instantly took as an invitation to taste your neck and assault it with gentle licks, bites, and kisses.

It was the moment he released your wrists and placed one of your legs on his shoulder to rut into you even deeper, his tip brushing against all the right spots, that made you come undone underneath him. Clenching around his length, he fucked you through your climax until he too found release, only fuelling your arousal when you felt ropes of his seed coating your walls, his member jerking inside of you until eventually, he stilled and embraced you without ever pulling out of you.

“How are you even here?” he finally asked. “I’m so happy to see you, darling.”

“That I could tell.” You grinned, grinding against him and eliciting a little whimper from him in the process. “My boss is meeting a client here. She asked me to come with her, it was quite last minute. I could have called you but I wanted to make it a surprise.”

“You most certainly did surprise me, darling. You know… I think I quite enjoy you calling me ‘Mr. Pine’.”

Your grin grew even wider. “Lucky for you, we’ll be staying the whole weekend, Mr. Pine.”

Jonathan growled once more. He was on you again to stifle your laugh and had you cumming for him again long before his ten minutes were over.

-

A/N: Well that was fun to write! ;-)

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Hi I was wondering if you could do one of the girls with period cramps?

As a result of the poll, I give you this! These two honestly make me feel so freaking single🥲👍

!emeto warning!

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

Keiko was honestly both in awe of and terrified of his girlfriend’s appetite. Especially when she was on her period.

In one sitting, he’d watched her polish off a whole bag of garlicy Naan bread, a whole container of extra spicy Chicken Tiki Masala, three vegetarian samosas, and a container of white rice. And now, she was eating chocolate ice-cream straight out of the tub.

Amberlynn tended to have a big appetite whenever she was on her period, but this was a whole new freaking level.

“Baby, you’ll make yourself sick,” he said, finally speaking up about how much she was eating.

She looked at him, the spoon halfway to her mouth. Then she lowered the spoon, pouted in an annoyed way, and said, “I’m fine.”

Keiko frowned, but said nothing else as she continued to eat the ice-cream. That was, until a hiccup suddenly snuck up on her.

“Maybe you should stop now?” he suggested. “That hiccup could be a warning sign.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Or it could just be a regular hiccup. That’s always a possibility, doc.”

With a sigh, Keiko shrugged and got up from the couch. “Okay. Well, I’m gonna shower now.” He walked behind the couch and behind Amberlynn, only to bend forward enough to look at her upside-down. “Love you, Am,” he said.

Her face morphed into a smile that she couldn’t help. “Love you, Kei.”

Keiko kissed her while upside-down, and then left to go shower.

He showered for quite a bit. The warm water was just pleasant, and after eating, he was feeling just a bit lazy and content with taking his time.

When he got out of the shower and came back out to the living room, now in pajama pants and shirtless, the coffee table had been cleaned up, the food (and ice-cream) was gone, and Amberlynn was completely passed out on the couch, one hand on her stomach. Keiko smiled at how cute she was: her mouth slightly parted as she snored quietly, and her slightly-bloated belly peeking out from under her shirt.

He went over to her, crouching down and smoothing hair away from her face. “Am,” he whispered. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go to bed.”

She groaned, and Keiko moved and planted a soft kiss on the part of her belly peeking out, making her giggle because she got ticklish there.

“Get to the room, baby, I’ll be right over.” He stood up, honestly expecting his girlfriend to actually listen to him.

He turned off the lights in the kitchen, entryway, and he closed all of his curtains. When he came back to the living room, Amberlynn was sitting up, but she was hunched over and hugging her stomach with a sour look on her face.

“What’s wrong, Am?” Keiko asked, turning off the living room light and the TV as well.

Amberlynn swallowed. “I feel weird,” she admitted, her bottom lip slightly jutting out in the way it did when she pouted. “Periods fucking suck.”

Keiko couldn’t help but chuckle at the bitter words, crouching down in front of his girlfriend and cupping her face in his hands, kissing her pout. “Is your tummy hurting?”

She raised a brow, sarcastically. “Noooo. Between being infected with God’s incredibly sexist red-plague and eating my weight in spicy Indian food and ice-cream, my stomach feels absolutely freaking peachy.” At least she was willing to admit that she went a bit overboard.

Keiko laughed and kissed her again. “Okay, baby, I get it. Let’s go, and I’ll rub your belly. Do you need meds? Or the heating pad? Or just some water?”

“Maybe just the heating pad.”

Keiko nodded. “Okay. Go to the bedroom, and I’ll heat the pad up.”

Once again, Keiko left her and went to heat up the heating pad. It took a few minutes to find it, and another few to heat it up. He also grabbed her some water anyway. By the time he was done, Amberlynn had left the couch.

Keiko found her under the covers, staring up at the ceiling with a weird look.

“You okay?” he asked, shutting the door.

She shrugged. “I just really want that heating pad.”

Keiko smiled handing it to her. She thanked him, taking it and pushing down the covers so she could put it on her belly under her shirt, and then she pulled the covers up again.

After putting the water on the bedside table, Keiko went around the bed and also got in, immediately putting a hand under his girlfriend’s shirt and rubbing her tummy over the heating pad.

Amberlynn let out a content sigh, scooting closer to him and touching her forehead to his. “Thanks, Kei,” she whispered.

Keiko kissed her cheek in response.

Despite being the one to suggest going to bed, Keiko wasn’t really all that tired. He smiled as he just stared at his girlfriend, admiring every inch of her face as she drifted back off again.

He found himself continuing to rub her belly for another ten minutes or so before her eyes opened again and she once again had that sour look on her face, but she now also had a whiter parlor to go with it. “Kei,” she said, looking at him with a hint of panic in her eyes.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed and hesitated for a moment before saying. “Help me— help me get up, baby. Now.”

She swallowed again and Keiko sat up in a rush, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her up into a sitting position. She doubled over, heaving over the sheets, and Keiko nearly tumbled to the ground as he leapt off the bed in a rush to get the bin in the corner of the room. He grabbed it, and sprinted back to Amber’s side of the bed, placing it in front of her in time to catch a thick stream of brown vomit that smelled sweet like chocolate. Amberlynn gagged, and more puke came up. The streams came up so heavily that Amberlynn began trembling from the force. What’s worse is that she felt blood rush into her pad with some of the violent heaves.

When the Indian food came back up, that was the worst of it. For some reason, spicy food was more intense and throat-burning when it was coming back up.

Some grains of rice got caught in her throat, and she choked, coughing so hard that she teared up a bit and Keiko thumped on her back while saying soothing words.

Another thick stream cleared up the rice in her throat, but it still burned horribly, and she could even feel some of that burning in the back of her nose, which was uncomfortable as hell.

Her stomach squeezed painfully. Gradually, the streams of vomit became smaller. Before long, there was nothing else coming up but sick, painful burps that Amberlynn didn’t bother muffling.

She wined, sniffing even through she wasn’t actively crying. “Craaaap,” she moaned, pushing the bin towards Keiko’s hands. “I-I need to go to the bathroom.”

Keiko took the bin and nodded, kissing her forehead. “Okay then, baby. I’ll get the meds. You clearly need them.”

She pouted. “Won’t stay down, Kei.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine if they don’t, but try anyway.”

He got up and Amberlynn dizzily got on her feet. When Keiko saw that she was steady enough, he left the room to dump the vomit in the bin into the kitchen sink.

When he got back to the room with a clean bin and the meds in hand, he expected Amberlynn to be back in bed, but instead he saw that the bathroom door was closed and he heard the shower running.

He left two little pills on the bedside table by the water, and he set the bucket down by Amberlynn’s side of the bed. Then he climbed back onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard and scrolling on his phone.

Amberlynn didn’t take long in the bathroom. When she came out, some of her color had come back and her damp curls were in a long braid.

“Better?” he asked, smiling as she flopped onto the bed next to him.

“Mmm-hm,” she hummed, scooting over and shifting to place her head on his lap. “Feeling fresh feels good.”

He lightly scratched her scalp. “Your stomach?”

“Crampy, but better.”

“I brought the meds. They’re right—”

“Too late,” she interrupted, pressing her face to his thigh. “I’m sleeping.”

“Am—”

“Sleeping!”

Keiko rolled his eyes, smiling. “Fine. Sleep. But the second your stomach hurts again, you’re taking those meds.”

She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. “You love me.”

He chuckled, bending over to plant a kiss on her temple. “Hell yeah, I do. Now, I thought you were ‘sleeping’.”

[writingpiecesak]

Imagine arguing with 💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

Nothing has been going well lately for you. Missing essay assignments for your sociology class, late night shifts causing you to miss dinner time, said late night shifts from your shitty boss who doesn’t understand the idea of a breath mint. Getting a speeding ticket because you were late for school. You’re favorite sushi place closed down and your hair is frizzing up because of damn weather conditions. 

All you wanted right now was a warm bubble bath with candles and soothing music playing in the background while you sip a glass of white wine. To fall into a trace of relaxation, keeping away from the real worlds problems. To just have a moment to yourself. A simple moment. Is that too much to ask?

“Killed your ass! Hop off the game already you’re so bad!”

Ah, the wonderful yelling of gaming frustration coming from the living room. Your eyes weren’t surprised by your boyfriend, Katsuki gaming in front of the television with his headset and mic settled perfectly in between his ears. Otherwise, he would’ve heard you come in.

After standing there for about five minutes he finally noticed you. “Oh welcome home babe. Dinner’s in the oven.”

Well at least he cooked dinner. You walked into the kitchen setting down your car keys and handbag. Grabbing a plate a fork from the cabinets you pull out what was left in the oven for you. To your dislike though, it was spicy meatloaf with curry rice.

You understand your boyfriend loves spicy food, but doesn’t it have to be all the time? Why couldn’t he ask you what would you like for dinner? Is it that hard to send a text or to try calling?

With a heavy sign you put back the utensil and plate, looking around the pantry for anything else to substitute the growing hunger laying in your stomach.

No one thought to buy groceries either…. Why was everything left to you? Buying groceries, making dinner satisfying both parties, cleaning the damn dishes he used.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your favorite box of cereal, fruity pebbles always makes things better even if it’s for a short moment before they get soggy. You lifted the box from its spot only to have it feel light as a feather. You shook the box around trying to feel out how much would be left until you hear Katsuki call out from the living room.

“Oh I forgot to tell you. I had the last bowl of that fruit cereal this morning! Sorry hun I was hun–behind you! No behind you Kiri! Damn it Ashido you’re supposed to cover his ass.”

You got to be freaking kidding me… Your grip tighten around the box and finally frustration snapped. You flung the empty box straight to his head, so hard it knocked his headset off in fact. Immediately Katsuki pulled a face and got up from his seat.

“Seriously? You’re mad over damn cereal!”

“No I’m mad at you!”

“For what? I made you dinner!”

“No, you made yourself dinner. You know I can’t handle spicy food.” You shouted.

A small moment of realization hit him but he wasn’t going to admit his wrongs. “Then eat shit then! At least I cooked something meanwhile all you eat is takeout.”

The distance of talking started getting closer together with every notch being brought higher. “Because I work late! Ever thought to ask me what I would want for dinner? What I would like to come home to?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, I patrol my ass in serious dangerous areas. And when needed I go out and fight! That’s my job! All you do is organize paperwork for a boss that’s a mere extra.”

“Oh so now you’re going to blame me for not having a quirk and saving people? Some people are normal! Regular! Having to work shitty jobs to make a living Katsuki!”

“I’m not listening to this pity party. Quirk or no quirk, you can always find a better job.” You see him beginning to sit back down and grabbing his headset from off the floor. But you weren’t done speaking. You marched right to his console and immediately pulled all cords not caring which was for what. The tv screen had went black, you threw the cords at his feet with a winning smirk.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” As his anger rises you could see his hands starting to give off sparks.

“You’re my problem Kats! This apartment is my problem! My job is my problem! My hair is my problem! Everything is a fucking problem with me!”

Breathing heavily your eyes start to water but you didn’t want to cry not now especially. You pushed passed Katsuki and headed straight for the bedroom instantly locking it. You grabbed the hem of the fluffy blanket and threw it around. Throwing around the pillows and just trying to take out your frustration on something other than your boyfriend right now.

Wanting more destruction to voice out your anger, you grabbed your night table lamp and threw it at the bedroom door with a final scream. Now only sadness floods through you as realizing you’d would have to clean everything up. Before you’re able to take a step towards the door, Katsuki burst through with concern worries look. Unfortunately he stepped on the pieces of sharp colorful glass which the lamp was made of. But the pain in his feet couldn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart seeing you cry.

“I’m sorry. Everything is just…a problem.” You lowered your head wanting to mask the tears as you thought for a sign of weakness. Katsuki carefully walked around the mess and grabbed you hand, pulling you into his chest as you cried letting out the anger in a different way that didn’t cause destruction.

“It’s okay. Let it out, I’m here. You’re okay. I’m sorry too. I’ll buy you five hundred fruity pebble boxes. Just please….take the glass out my foot.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. You wrapped your arms around your lover and snuggled closer, deeper into his scent.

“My feet are bleeding dumbass. But…let’s stay like this a little longer.”

[fairyplam]

The fool and the Wicked

I'm trying my hand at writing, and what better way to share my work than by uploading it to Tumblr?

English isn't my first language.

Astarion & Feyra

(Happens in the beginning of act 2) (nothing spicy but mention of some- but still very much sfw)

Step one: make our dear leader fall in love with him.

Step two: don’t fall in love with them—easy.

Or so Astarion thought. He had met and kissed hundreds of people, played the part of the fragile and the hero, so Feyra wasn’t something unfamiliar to him. A pretty face, a sly smile, and a twisted sense of humor to match his—nothing too special. So why couldn’t he stop staring at her? Thinking of her? She wasn’t special, but then again… against all odds, she sliced through that monster hunter without hesitation, let him bite her, and then again—and again. Maybe she was just plain stupid, naïve, but … she was clever with her words and absolutely frightening at times… maybe she wasn’t the fool, but he was.

They stayed at the Last Light Inn tonight, after being in that freaky forest for far too long, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them. He offered his favorite Drow to join him tonight because nothing says "sex" like being surrounded by dark shadows and corrupted land, after all.

She came at night as always, her white hair still tied up in a messy ponytail. She had just finished cleaning her face, making her skin glow in the dim candlelight. Astarion was reading one of the books they had found not too long ago, but the moment she entered, he let his eyes linger on her before she sat down next to him. Before he could even say a word, she sighed and said, “Would you mind if we just lay to rest tonight?”

“Oh? Not in the mood for some fun, I see?” he closed his book as she lay on his scrawny bed, taking up almost the whole space. She took off her hair tie, letting her snowy hair spill all around—what a delicious treat she looked.

“Just a bit tired, that’s all, and I wouldn’t want to spoil our fun with yawning all the way through.” Feyra looked at him, patting the limited space next to her, inviting him to join, and join he did. He leaned on top of her, caressing her face gently while playfully saying, “Have you no sense of shame? Offering my own bed?”

“Shame? I don't know of her,” she answered, stretching her arms around his neck and pulling him closer until he rested his head on her chest. Soft and warm, they were intimate with each other already, yet this time it felt different. He felt different.

“Why does the way to Baldur’s Gate have to go through a cursed forest? And not just a regular forest? I swear we can’t have one nice thing happening on this trip,” Feyra complained, and while he would usually offer some snarky remarks, Astarion was too focused on the warm, strange feeling that suddenly made him forget how to speak.

“The first thing I’m going to do in the city is take a nice, long bath with actual soap!” She kept talking and talking; you would think she wasn’t as tired as she claimed to be. But Astarion didn’t mind. Actually, listening to her speak, to her voice, while being held so gently in her arms, was something he didn’t realize could feel so good.

“Have you fallen asleep, Astarion?” she suddenly said, which made him open his eyes that he didn’t know were closed.

“Hm? You were talking for so long, my dear, I fear you must have lulled me to sleep,” he said jokingly to cover the panic that rose in him. He was feeling too safe—too comfortable for a moment there.

“Apologies, go back to sleep then.” She raised her arm for a moment to shut the lantern. It was Astarion’s moment to escape her grasp, yet his body didn’t move. Instead, he let her hand rest on him, her fingers pushing through his hair so gently it made his head spin for a moment.

The tent was dead quiet. She wasn’t asleep just yet, he could tell—not with the rising beat of her heart. Was it because of him? Was she finally falling for his spells? His charm? It’s about time! Yet only with one tender stroke on his neck, he swore he could feel his frozen heart skip a beat. What kind of dark magic is that?

At some point, her hand stopped moving and her quiet breath turned into faint snores. Only then did he decide to rise up and give her a short look from above. Her beautiful face now in deep slumber—what a cruel woman she was, making his world turn upside down only to leave him alone with his thoughts. He lay next to her, turning his back in the hopes that this warm feeling might disappear if he stopped looking at her. But even in her sleep, she found a way to taunt him by moving closer and pressing herself to his back, reaching her hand to cuddle him, shielding his back, keeping him warm. What a wicked woman she is, Astarion thought, holding her soft hand. And what a fool he is.

[narcissadeville]

Dream Date | a butch x femme story

It’s almost noon when I leave the house. I almost never go anywhere these days, save to get coffee or food or ever so rarely to browse a store that isn’t online. So I consider this a rare treat. First coffee then, a trip to the bookstore. I’m in search of a specific tome. A book on lesbian nuns of all things, and I suspect the local bookstore might have such a thing. It’s a small enough town, and I happen to live close enough to the town square that I can walk without much trouble so I do. There’s a coffee shop I’ve never been to before on the way according to my phone. Under normal circumstances, I would go to Starbucks as it’s usually the easiest but I figure if it’s on the way I might as well try something new. 

The walk was blessedly short and more importantly, it was a beautiful spring day which meant it was just warm enough to be comfortable but not so much as to be sweltering and therefore unbearable to walk in.

The coffee shop is exactly as I would have imagined upon entering, warm, cozy, inviting, and full of life, mostly plant life.

There are a few people ahead of me, so I have some time to study the menu and get a feel for the sorts of drinks they serve. I tend towards tea on account of the fact that coffee makes me jittery, and I see a tea choice that looks appetizing enough and decide to order that. It’s a spicy chai tea with oat milk that looks absolutely divine. 

I order my drink and make my way over to the other side of the cafe to wait for my drink. There’s light jazz playing over the radio, mixed with the sounds of quiet conversation. There’s a certain ambiance in this place that feels almost dreamy. I’m not sure if it’s the fairy lights, the music, the plants, or just the fact that exists at all but I can’t help but fall just a little bit in love with the place. Someone calls my name and I take my drink gratefully, and make my way toward the door. There’s a part of me that’s tempted to stay longer. It’s comfortable and the atmosphere draws me in like a siren song and I’m tempted. But there’s a book calling my name so I press on instead. I make my way to the door, lost in thought and tea, and I don’t notice that someone else is coming to the door at the same time, and we run smack into each other, our arms colliding. My tea jostles but thankfully only sloshes a little over the lid. 

“Sorry,” I hear a voice say from beside me. I turn towards the sound and almost feel as though my legs might buckle. Easily the most handsome butch I have ever seen in person stands beside me. Looking rather sheepish. They’re wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt and black jeans and it’s all I can do not to swoon. Their dark curly hair frames their face perfectly. I’m certain I’m blushing as I stare into the warm pools of their brown eyes. My mouth opens and I attempt to formulate words but all I can manage is the letter I.

After a moment, I regain my composure and say. “Okay,” I feel stupid the moment the words leave my lips, but they don’t seem the least bit bothered by it. They smile and oh I can feel myself blushing again. Their smile is wondrous, and I lose all sense of where I am then and there. Before I know what’s happening, they move and open the door, holding it for me in a sweeping magnanimous gesture that makes me want to blush and giggle and swoon.

“After you,” they say. I blush again and make my way out and back into the street. 

“Thank you,” I reply. They smile again, and we turn in opposite directions. 

I’m still riding the high of our interaction as I walk down the street toward the bookstore sipping my drink. Trees line the sidewalk to my right and shade the sun's rays from me, a fact for which I am most grateful. 

It’s a good drink, but I can’t help but wonder if they’re a regular there. 

Should I start coming back? Maybe I might see them there again? I’m half way down the street from the coffee shop when I remember I was going somewhere, and pull out my phone for the instructions. Thankfully I’m not too far off course. I manage to continue the rest of the walk from the coffee shop to the bookstore. This portion of the trek is longer than I expected and most of it is spent reminiscing over the handsome butch I just met. 

In my own imagination, I am not shy exactly, it’s just that whenever I see someone I consider attractive, I lose all ability to speak in any sort of coherent way. I tell myself that if they are regular and I have more opportunities to see them in the future it might make it easier to work up a rapport. Oh, who am I kidding? Even if they are a regular, I very much doubt they would talk to me. 

After a half an hour of internal monologuing, I reach the bookstore. It’s not a gay bookstore but something about it just feels like it could be. Perhaps it’s just the vibe that all bookstores feel somehow inherently safe to me. 

I’ve always loved books, ever since I was a kid. In those days reading felt like a beautiful escape from a humdrum life, now I was lucky if I could work up the energy to read a few pages at a time. I was hoping a story more suited to me would help. 

The bookshop was a welcome respite from the outside air which was starting to get considerably more sticky as the afternoon wore on. Or perhaps that had simply been from walking there. Either way I was thrilled to be inside an air-conditioned building and a bookstore no less. The smell of ink and paper immediately filled my nostrils and I felt like I was home. 

I had come with a purpose true, but the moment I had arrived I found myself wandering down various isles with no particular purpose in mind. I let my feet carry me in any direction they wanted to, and my eyes sought out any cover or title that looked like it could be interesting. I was so engrossed in my wandering I once more found myself running into a person, this time right into their back. I groaned to myself, embarrassed that I had run into another person twice in the same day. 

“Sorry,” I said. They turned around and I would have gasped; once more the same handsome butch from the coffee shop. What were the odds, I wondered? Surely astronomical. It was a smaller town sure but not so small that it was likely that I’d run into them in this exact same store at this particular time and this isle. 

They smiled, “Well hello again,” they said. There was a casual demeanor to their tone that made me almost feel at ease. Were I not so damn nervous. I smiled, sure I was blushing again. 

“Sorry,” I repeated. 

“Don’t be, I’m glad you bumped into me again.” 

My mouth hung open at that, and I blinked in search of anything intelligent to say, but came up empty. It is worth noting that I am rarely at a loss for words. I would consider myself rather good with words generally, yet here I was, fumbling for anything resembling a sentence. 

“We might want to sit down somewhere, I’d hate for you to run into me and get seriously hurt,” they said. 

At this I simply blushed. Say something, my brain hissed at me. “I might enjoy it if you did,” I said. I cringed at myself, had I really just said that? 

To my surprise however, they laughed. A deep, mirthful laugh that instantly put me at ease. “How about I take you out to lunch first, and see where the afternoon takes us?” 

I blinked, there went my words again. I could hardly believe it, I was actually being asked out, on a date, in person. Was this really how it happened? I had only seen such a thing in films before, I knew I had to respond before they thought I wasn’t interested. 

“I’d love to,” I said. Or at least, I thought that’s what I said. I’m pretty sure what I actually said might have been more of a garbled mess of such a phrase. Fortunately for me, they didn’t seem to care. Instead they smiled and said, “Great. What are you in the mood for?” 

“I’m pretty new to the area I admitted, but I’m down for whatever.”

“Adventurous, I like that in a girl,” they said as we made our way out of the bookshop, all thoughts of the book I had been planning to purchase completely erased from my head. Adventurous, I thought with a laugh. Nothing could be further from me, but I wasn’t about to tell them that. Outside the bookstore, they turned right toward the parking lot with me trailing behind them like a lost kitten. When they finally stopped it was in front of a motorcycle, it was black and if I was honest the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. They grinned mounting the bike with ease. “You ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle before?” They asked.

I had two choices. I could lie and potentially risk life and limb for a total stranger, or I could tell them I was scared shitless and admit I'd never even seen a motorcycle up close let alone ridden one.

Naturally, I did the only sensible thing I could do. 

“Sure,” I lied trying to mount the bike like they had. The dress I was wearing didn’t exactly lend itself to it, but I didn’t care. As soon as I got on I stared awkwardly at their back. 

“You may want to hold on. She’s got a little kick,” they said. I blinked, not seeing anything to hold onto. I had seen in movies girls holding onto their riding partner, but surely she didn’t mean… the engine roared to life and my heart leaped up to my throat. Without thinking I wrapped my arms around her waist for dear life, burying my face in her leather-clad back. She smelled amazing. A mix of leather, and just a touch of musk and cologne. She revved the engine and we took off together out of the parking lot. 

It wasn’t so bad, I thought to myself. I had calmed down almost immediately, at least that was until we exited the parking lot and the motorcycle shot down the street at what felt like an unreasonably high speed that caused me to wrap my arms around their waist once more, desperately clinging to the only lifeline I had. They didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. In fact, as they took off down the road, making a bit of a sharper-than-necessary turn, I almost got the impression they were trying to show off for me. This thought was short-lived however when the motorcycle’s engine popped suddenly and bucked me. I clenched my thighs to the metal and gripped them so tight I was sure I would have cracked one of their ribs. When we finally reached our destination, a restaurant I had never seen before it was all I could do not to kiss the ground. I felt as though I had been just taken on a wild ride on a stallion. I carefully extricated myself from the bike and they followed suit, smiling at me. Distinctly I got the impression that they knew I had been lying. No one who had ridden on a motorcycle before would have been that terrified. Thankfully they didn’t call me out a fact for which I will be eternally grateful for forever. The two of us made our way towards the restaurant, their hand at the small of my back. It was all I could do not to blush again. When we reached the door, they moved swiftly to open it for me and not a second later their hand was at the small of my back once more. 

It was almost unbelievable how fast they seemed to move. 

They had chosen, a quiet diner where we could chose our own seats, we did, the back of the diner, away from other guests. Ours was a half moon booth, they slid into the middle and I slid in the other side, next to them. Without a second thought they wrapped their arm around me and pulled me close. Were it not for the distinct smell of cooking eggs wafting from the kitchen I would have been certain this was a dream. 

“I hope you don’t mind being so close,” they said. 

“I don’t mind at all,” I replied. How could I possibly? What femme in her right mind would mind? 

“I admit I’m not usually this forward,” they said. “But after I ran into you for the second time in the bookstore I thought you can’t let her get away again.” 

It took everything in me in that moment not to make a self deprecating comment. Not to say something along the lines of, ‘are you sure you’re talking about me?’ I had promised myself I wouldn’t do that anymore. Still I couldn’t quite stop myself from asking. “Oh, why is that?” 

“Well for starters you’re easily the most beautiful femme I’ve ever seen. But besides that… I can’t really explain it.” For a long moment, I had no idea what to say. It’s not that I lack self-confidence per se, but I’m by no means self-absorbed enough or perhaps quite confident enough to call myself the most beautiful femme. Surely this handsome butch has seen many a beautiful femme, I think.

Several years ago, when I was still attempting to date men, I would have assumed this was merely a line to get into bed with me. But this felt incredibly genuine like they really meant it. Unlike with any man, if this was a line, it was going to work. They could have asked me to follow her into a life of crime Bonnie and Clyde style and I would have. Easily. 

“Thank you,” I said thought it felt foolish. They smiled. 

“I’m just being honest,” they said. 

When the server arrived, they ordered for me, another thing I had only ever dreamed of, and they held tight to me for the remainder of our lunch, we talked about everything and nothing, and I still couldn’t get over it. A real date, a date that had come from me doing something different and leaving the house. It felt like a dream, like a fairytale. I was terrified that at any moment I’d wake up back in my bed. 

Only I didn’t. 

Lunch ended, and we went to see a movie, then strolled the park, then went for a late dinner. The day flew by and the next thing I knew it was nearing midnight. Had we really been out all day? I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable and joyous and just myself, and I was reticent to let the date end. As they dropped me off back at my house and gave me their number, I knew I couldn’t let them go. 

Wrapping my arms around them, I smiled, “You’re welcome to come in,” I said. 

They grinned, giving me a look filled with a multitude of promise. 

“Much as I would love that and I…” they looked me up and down and let out something between a grunt and a moan that sent shivers down my spine, “I would love to. I have a rule about not sleeping with a girl on the first date.” 

It was all I could do not to pout. They must have noticed it too because they smiled and wrapped their arms around my waist. “Can I kiss you?” They asked. 

“You can do a lot more than that if you like,” I replied. 

They laughed and pressed their lips slowly to mine. I gasped, lips parting to give them entrance. I felt their fingers dig into my hips then as they deepened the kiss. Their tongue exploring my mouth. It was all I could do not to moan into the embrace. It was hands down the best kiss of my life. Their lips trailed down from mine, down my chin, towards my neck. I gasped, letting out a moan as they sucked hard onto my throat. My fingers dug into their back. “Please,” I begged. 

“Please what?” They whispered against the flesh of my neck like a prayer. I shivered. 

“Please I need more,” I whined. 

They smiled, pressed their lips to mine once more, and pulled away. “Just needed to mark my spot,” they said. I whined. “Promise we’ll do this again and I’ll make it very worth your while.” 

I shivered at the promise of their words. “I’m holding you to that,” I said. They got onto their motorcycle with a grin, and the last thing I saw was their tail light as they sped off into the night. 

Walking back to my room I wondered briefly if I would ever see them again. Or if this had been just a passing-by-night thing. A once in a lifetime fairytale of an event that had happened miraculously not to be repeated. 

To my great surprise, my phone vibrated and I pulled it out to find a text from them: 

I had a great time today, shall we plan another date for tomorrow? Or later in the week?

I stared at my phone grinning from ear to ear. I could hardly deny to myself it was real now. Shocking though it was. We planned our second date, and as I crawled into bed, exhausted from the long day, I felt all at once as though I was floating on air. 

The date of my dreams with the butch of my dreams, I thought to myself. Holy shit I did it. 

[justaboot]

do you have the post of ingredients for potion of Don't Get Sick

Lmao I made it last niiiight tis the season.

Not sure where the post is floating, but it’s a freeform of a whole head of chopped garlic, chopped carrots, onion, celery, an unholy amount of kale (cooks down), sweet potato (or regular I’m not in charge), whole or halved mushrooms, big chunks of tofu cubes if that’s your jam, sautéed in a big pot in butter (or oil) with salt until mostly cooked, can of kidney beans, can of white beans, and then broth (or water) until it well covers the ingredients by several inches. If you want to throw in uncooked rice or quinoa at this point, add extra liquid bc it absorbs a ton as it cooks. My partner adds broccoli but I think it gets mushy and gross don’t tell her.

Season to taste with salt, pepper, chili powder, cayenne, celery salt, garlic powder, oregano (skip any of you don’t have them idk) and anything else that sounds fun. The garlic and the chili power are the heavy hitters, so make it as spicy as you can stand and still enjoy.

Eat with crunchy bread and don’t get sick!

[cerine0357]

Okay. I’m here again but not in anonymous.

May I request Ramey cuddling the reader after a long tired day at school/work? Its been years since I requested something so it’s a bit nerve wracking

OC : MorningStar court :-

. Raemous X Reader

▨ Summary: Raemous is one energetic himbo demon and he knows just what a school-hating, burnt out S/O needs from him, SOME SNAPPING PEAS WITH AURORA SAUCE!!! ♡

▨ Crack, comforting, fluff, scenario || Established relationship || warnings:

▨ Author's note: This was one of the sweetest requests I've written, hopefully you'll enjoy this and thank you for requesting this and Hopefully you'll get confident in requesting Achy! Also this thing happened to me in school one day...

▨ Vocablury:

➸ Aurora sauce: a sauce made with spicy chili flakes, mayonnaise, oregano pepper, a bit of cheese sauce and a few other spices...

Peas in a pod

Raemous was in the Xiokor's music room as he was cleaning his drums and guitar while shimming to a song, before the music changed and he started to dramatically cry...Scrubbing the guitar's back like the guitar did something to Ramey as he sang embarrassingly high pitched and out of tune, "TELL ME WHY-"

"Ain't nothing but a heartache~" the lyric was completed by you as you walked in, "Hey babe!!!" Ramey said as he run and hugged you tightly as you dropping your bag and sitting near Raemous who turned off his music and put his arm around you, you sat near him as he shifted closer taking out a box of snapping peas and aurora sauce and he rambled at how some people have the absolute audacity to say he was a 7, when he's been constantly been told by you that he's a SOLID 10 all while he fed you snapping peas. You nodded you head and sighed deeply making Raemous stop,

"AND THEN HE-...Hey babe, you okay? What happened?" He asked worried as he took one snapping pea, dipped it in the aurora sauce and fed one to you and held his hand out for you to spit out the disgusting parts, and maybe the cover if you didn't like it. You did so and huffed angrily before yelling, "XIOKOR HAS THE STUPIDEST TEACHERS!!!" making Raemous flinch and stare at you weirdly as he nodded his head, while throwing the waste parts of the snapping pea into another bowl he had and wiping his hand with a wet wipe as he handed you to bowl to spit your waste of the snapping peas.

"I know!"

"Did you know, that today when I entered the class, in my regular uniform; the white one, you know?"

Ramey nodded as you continued, "Yeah, so the discipline in-charge came in and yelled at every student who wore the regular, white uniform to get out of the class and stand outside, obviously I followed Solielin, because she was also wearing the white uniform along with 80 percent of the students from out class, right?!"

"Yeah, then?!" Ramey asked

"Well, then the discipline in-charge yelled at all of us and our neighboring class, the one with 40-50 students had literally only had 5 students in their class left who wore the sports uniform, and same for the higher grades than us and all those on the floor...And then the discipline in-charge has the AUDACITY TO YELL AT US AND SAY, "Well, we told it in assembly and your teacher probably also floated the message in your online server!!! LIKE BITCH, IF SHE DID WE WOULDN'T BE WEARING THIS, WOULD WE?!"

You yelled as Ramey continued to feed you snapping peas and changing the aurora sauce according to your wishes... in between nodding and humming and agreeing with you and hyping you up..

"And then the kids who did wear the sports outfit were only wearing it because they had try out, like 99 % OF STUDENTS AREN'T IN SPORTS UNIFORM! Maybe the problem is with you?! DUMB BITCH!? And then she made us hundreds of students wait outside during revision session with Lucifer...." You said taking a deep breathe to calm down as you took a large bite from the snapping pea in Ramey's hand, almost biting his hand off as well in anger as you held his hand tightly in your grasp angrily showing his affection. Ramey slowly pulled his hand away and pat your head to calm you down

"Heyyyyy, now, I'm sure the discipline in-charge is always wrong, no message was floated on the online server, she was only yelling because she is annoying, she's always been like that! Annoying, stupid, dumb, nerdy, kind of ugly!"

Raemous says smiling brightly as he put one snap pea in his mouth which was covered in Aurora sauce, as he bit it hard a tiny branch fell from the snapping pea, you caught it between your palms as you laughed a bit at Raemous's words as he comforted you, you kissed his lips as he returned the kiss before you both snuggled next to each-other the escaped peas still in one of your hands. As Ramey goes to hold your hand, he feels the peas in your hand and gets confused, "Huh? Why are there peas in your hands?"

"They escaped when you were eating.." You explained as you opened your palm and there laid two peas connected by a branch, "Hey look, it's like us!!!" Ramey says smiling brightly, showing his huge fangs, to which you smiled and nodded your head and held the hand which had the peas with one of his hands smiling and laughing.

As you both finished insulting the discipline-incharge for being stupid, you both sat there leaning against the wall of the music room, the glass on the adjacent triangle wall showed Lucifer and Belphegor playing the drums and having fun, as you both listened to them, you started drifting off due to being tired of Xiokor today....you yawned softly before burying your face into Ramey's biker jacket, which smelt of raspberries and ash...falling asleep with the two peas tightly in between your and Ramey's hand like they are back in the pods~

@dxmoness , @juvellianovo , @crownxie , @writerig , @achy-boo , @primordixl (love the new theme), @hmerus , @1234567youmakemefeellike11ive , @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe , @roseadleyn , @lvmxlee (your theme looks AMAZING!)

© do not repost, but reblogging is very much appreciated and even encouraged. The story, the character and the idea is completely mine, and the pictures is also made by me.

[rom-e-o]

First of all, since it's 5 to 2 in the morning, Merry Christmas Eve!

Second, this hit me right as I was about to go to power down (was waiting for you to finish White Christmas before I went to bed😂) and I need to get it out of my head before sleep.

In Timeless, Bess probably approaches Adonis before she and Wolf get "in-person" with the spicy stuff because she's nervous about being a disappointment to Wolf when they actually start doing stuff to each other. After all, apart from the guy who groomed and hurt her, she was only ever with Oliver once after they got engaged, and that wasn't a very successful experience. She's definitely worried that, just because she can talk a good game for Wolf and put on a good show over vid-chat for him, when it comes to actually touching him and him touching her, she won't be any good either way. So I see her asking Adonis for more details about Wolf's relationship history (not that she thinks Wolf lied or kept secrets, but because maybe he's sugarcoated things to spare her feelings or maybe some things slipped his mind and weren't mentioned). I also see her asking Adonis if she's really good enough for his brother. "I just want Ebenezar to have the best. He deserves that. Even if that turns out to not be me."

In the regular Simsverse, even though they're already married, I see something similar happening, just less about the sex part (which is already established as quite good) and more solely focused on the "Am I really good enough for your brother?" part. Probably triggered by Bess finding out more about Wolf's near relationship with Belle, whom he obviously loved but never allowed anything to happen with.

Awwww Merry Christmas Eve to you too! ✨💕 White Christmas was literally the PERFECT way to ring in Christmas Eve morning! Absolutely immaculate vibes.

Also, AWWWW, this is really tender. The way Adonis would sit and listen to her inquiry, his expression quite neutral and not judgmental at all. Once she finishes and says her objective is for Wolf to have ‘the best’, that’s when he finally smiles. He gets up, moves over to her, and gently squeezes her shoulder.

“Dear, I assure you, if you are worried about being ‘good enough’ for my brother, you’re already leaps and bounds ahead of his other relationships. He has been … trampled on when it’s come to romance, I’m afraid. Taken advantage of. You know my brother; he does nothing by half measures. There are some who used that to their advantage. All of them did. He’s been…burned, I suppose you can say. I don’t know the specifics of what he and his former girlfriends exactly … did, but there was never much to discuss. I never heard about dates, or whatever happened afterward. Then, you came along. The first time he officially met you, he couldn’t stop talking about you. This went on for weeks! All I heard about was all the dates he was planning to take you on, all about your siblings and how spirited they were, and how he had never felt so … happy with another person before. That he’d never felt so safe before.

“So, dear, not only are you absolutely good enough for him… it this is the best relationship he’s ever been in. All he talks about his you, and when you’re apart, he misses you like a piece of his heart is away. No matter what next stop you two take, I assure you that he is eager to meet you there.”

[lowestkal]

Forced to eat Tim Hortons breakfast tmw so here’s a safe food cheat sheet.

Tim Hortons Safe Food Cheat Sheet:

Drinks 🥤

Coffee:

🤍 Black coffee - 3/4/5 Cal

🤍 Regular coffee - 70/100/120 Cal

🤍 Cappuccino - 80/120/170 Cal

🤍 Latte - 90/140/190 Cal

🤍 Coffee mocha - 110/140/190 Cal

🤍 London Fog - 110-160-240 Cal

🤍 Light iced coffee - 70/100/140 Cal

🤍 Unsweetened iced latte - 90/120/140 Cal

Refreshers:

🤍 Lemonade - 90/110/140 Cal

🤍 Peach quencher - 110/150/190 Cal

🤍 Strawberry watermelon quencher - 110/150/190 Cal

🤍 Wild berry hibiscus sparkling quencher - 70/100/130 Cal

Food 🥗

Breakfast / lunch:

🤍 Butter - 60 Cal

🤍 Strawberry jam - 60 Cal

🤍 Everything twist - 220 Cal

🤍 Four cheese twist - 220 Cal

🤍 Herb & garlic savoury pastry - 240 Cal

🤍 Cheese tea biscuit - 250 Cal

🤍 Plain croissant - 260 Cal

🤍 Roasted red pepper & Swiss pinwheel - 280 Cal

🤍 Caramelized onion & parmesan pinwheel - 290 Cal

🤍 Plain bagel - 290 Cal

🤍 Everything bagel - 290 Cal

🤍 Egg and cheese English muffin sandwich - 270 Cal

🤍 Bacon and cheese omelette bites - 210 Cal

🤍 Spinach and egg white omlette bites 130 Cal

🤍 Hash brown - 120

🤍 Yogurt parfait - 250

🤍 Maple bacon cheddar croissant sandwich - 370

Lunch/ dinner:

🤍 Garden minestrone soup - 100/140 Cal

🤍 Cream of broccoli soup - 100/150 Cal

🤍 Chicken noodle soup - 140/190 Cal

🤍 Tomato parmesan soup - 150/210 Cal

🤍 Spicy thai soup - 170/240 Cal

🤍 Potato bacon soup - 220/310 Cal

🤍 Soup bun - 210 Cal

🤍 Potato wedges - 310 Cal

🤍 Classic chicken wrap - 380 Cal

Desserts 🍪

🤍 Chocolate chunk cookie - 220 Cal

🤍 Honey dip timbit - 50 Cal

🤍 Strawberry timbit - 50 cal

🤍 Venetian cream timbit - 50 cal

I’m having a small latte and a yogurt parfait, hbu?

[kay-elle-cee]

Since you easy canned cheese, does that trick with the nozzle actually work? When you put the nozzle on the center and the cheese through the tiny opening? I haven’t had that cheese in years, but I saw a “hack “ and wasn’t sure if it’s accurate. Plus cheese and crackers are life! I love charcuterie boards, they are amazing! Do you have your own go to setup or do you change it up depending on what you have? ( 😩 I remember I didn’t have regular ritz and I tried wheat grain low salt ritz and it was awful 😩. But I did have a little wine from New Years left over so that made up from the travesty)

Oh this ask delighted me 😂 So I had to Google what you were talking about and my mind is BLOWN. I’ve never tried that but know I will be trying next time I buy a can!

For my boards, I’ll change it up depending what I have, but typically I love a white cheddar and a Brie. Sometimes I’ll have the Merlot Sartori Bellavitano (which might be my favorite cheese ever?) or an aged Gouda. I’ll do a meat, normally some Ritz crackers (I’m sorry, they’re just so versatile! Sometimes I switch them up!), a little spicy cornichon, some olives, nuts, maybe some fruit or a sweet spread, etc. I don’t love a flavored cracker, personally, and I’ve had a lot of dental work, so anything too thick/hard is not for me.

I’ve also themed boards around holidays and TV premieres 😅. I was much more into it pre-pandemic but it still brings me a lot of joy.

[nemobeatrice]

@diadopweek

DiaDop Week 2023 Day 6 - Beach/Picnic: A Romantic Night on the Shores of Sardinia

Ao3

Quotev

Wattpad

Doppio was at the grocery store, buying ingredients for cookies. It was for the picnic he had planned with Diavolo, and he couldn’t decide whether to make regular old chocolate chip cookies or snickerdoodles.

Diavolo bumped into him before he could decide. “Oh, Doppio! Sorry for bumping into you, but I was thinking about what to make for the picnic.”

Doppio noticed the expensive bottle of red wine next to some produce in his basket and knew what to make. “It’s alright. I finally decided what to make.”

“Oh? Are you cooking something?”

“Baking. I can’t wait to see what you’ll bring.”

Doppio wondered if it would be enough and thought about buying more food. “I’ll bring more than just cookies.”

“Take your time. I’ll buy the candles and silverware.”

Diavolo had some elegant taste, making Doppio feel like his cookie idea was childish. He put the ingredients and headed to where the fresh fruits were, arms reaching for the grapes until he remembered Diavolo was bringing wine. He would’ve gotten strawberries but planned on making strawberry-flavored cookies. Doppio sighed, settling for the cherries on sale and buying some cute pink napkins on the way to the cashier.

-

Immediately after heading home, Doppio prepared to make the secret cookies. While he brought out the bowl, he still felt like he wasn’t bringing enough to the picnic.

A few days ago, Doppio had bought a baguette for his soup. He could use that to make crostini, but what should he top it with? He searched the fridge for something and saw some prosciutto, Roma tomatoes, and Boursin cheese.

He looked at the time to see if there was enough time, and it was only 2 PM—the picnic was at 6. Since Diavolo expected the macarons, he worked on that first before making the crostini.

As Doppio cracked some eggs, separating the yolk from the egg whites, he couldn’t stop thinking about what to wear. He loved his sweater, but maybe he should switch up his style. Perhaps a white dress shirt and some slacks would please Diavolo. Oh, but what color should his slacks be? Tan or black?

Lost in thought, Doppio broke an egg on his counter. “Ugh! I hope Boss isn’t having this much trouble.”

-

Diavolo finished making the herby cucumber salad with feta cheese and chickpeas, but he didn’t feel satisfied. Making salad was so simple, yet whatever Doppio planned seemed complex. Diavolo can cook, but Doppio is more into baking. What could he cook? Last night, he had shrimp fra diavolo and thought about using the shrimp he didn’t cook. Doppio didn’t seem like the type to enjoy something spicy. Maybe sweet and sour shrimp will sate his tastebuds, but he’ll cook after he showers.

Preparing what to wear before showering, he looked into his drawers and decided on the striped suit. Since he was the boss, he was in charge of his clothing but wanted to look professional. Thinking about his outfit, he found it funny how he spent his time with Doppio wearing his casual clothes instead of his suit despite working in the same building.

When Diavolo got out of the shower and dressed, he went into the kitchen to make sweet and sour shrimp. The picnic basket was on the table, and he placed the salad, wine, wine glasses, dining utensils, and shrimp once he finished cooking it. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much.

It was almost time to leave, and he called Doppio, reminding him it was time to head to the beach.

“B-boss!” Doppio panicked. “Wait, was the picnic now? I thought it was in an hour? Oh, no! I’m so sorry.”

Diavolo giggled. “Doppio, I’m calling just to remind you.”

“Oh.” He sounded calmer. “I’m ready. I guess I’ll head there now.”

-

It was time for the picnic. Diavolo picked up some roses for Doppio while on the way and a surprise in his pocket. Doppio had texted him that he’ll be under a tree with a pink checkered picnic blanket.

“There you are,” Diavolo said. “You’re looking fine.” He handed him the flowers.

Doppio took them, blushing. “Oh, really? Hmm, have I seen you wear that suit before?”

“It’s one of the suits I wear to work.” He sat down. “I brought us some salad and shrimp on a skewer. I made the shrimp before I left. Hopefully, it’s not too hot. Oh, let’s not forget the wine.” He set up the candles and handed Doppio a plate and a wine glass.

Doppio took out his food from his picnic basket. “I brought strawberry macarons, some cherries, and crostini. Do you think this is too much to eat?”

“I had a light lunch. If you can’t eat the rest, I’ll take them.” He eyed the macarons and grabbed one. “I should eat the salad or crostini first, but these look irresistible.” He took a bite. “Wow, Doppio, I’m surprised you haven’t started a bakery.”

“I thought about it, but I honestly have no idea how to start one. Besides, I like working for you.”

“Come here, you.”

The two leaned in for a kiss. They hadn’t eaten or taken a sip of wine, but they got touchy and physical, hugging tightly and kissing passionately. They would’ve been sweaty if it weren’t for the ocean breeze that suddenly kicked in.

Diavolo panted when he withdrew from the kiss. “God, Doppio, I need you by my side.”

“Boss, I want to be with you!” Doppio flung himself towards him.

He hugged him again, kissing and caressing his cheek. “Oh, my sweet Doppio, I want to give you something.”

He withdrew from the hug. “What is it?”

Diavolo pulled out a box with a ring inside. “Marry me? I think it’s time we make it official.”

“Oh my gosh! I don’t know what to say! I’m probably a sweaty mess! Of course, I’ll marry you! Should I pack my things after dinner, o-or should I do it tomorrow?”

Diavolo laughed while his stomach growled. “Whichever you prefer, my Doppio. I’m getting hungry. I feel like I could eat all the food you brought.”

Doppio took some salad and shrimp, sampling them. “Your food is so good, though! You’re telling me to start a bakery, but you’re the one who should be opening a restaurant.”

He poured him and himself a glass of wine. “Maybe, but it would’ve taken me longer to buy that ring for you.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I always felt we didn’t need a ring to prove we were meant to be together.”

“Oh, Doppio, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He fed Diavolo his salad. “Come on. You haven’t touched the food you brought.”

“Neither have you.” He put a cherry in his mouth, pulling the stem once Doppio bit into it.

They both ate the food until they were full and stayed a while to enjoy the ocean view.