#spritz season

[byroniuspunk]

spritz season!

[fullregalia]

chin chin.

Hello friends, and a happy new FY to those who observe. Despite somewhat bizarro weather since the unofficial start of summer after MDW (some true June gloom, a real life take of John Carpenter’s The Fog (Canada’s Version), an abundance of petrichor), we’ve made it to a typically stifling July weekend for the season’s flagship holiday. 

The past few years I’ve been up in Cambridge for the fourth, working on my tablescape game and caramelizing peaches (stone fruit hive, we ride!!). This year I’ll be in Litchfield, baking up a brown-butter buttermilk cake and seeing god at Arethusa. Same vibes, different ZIP codes. 

But I haven’t sat down to write 3,000 words on going cottagecore or larping as a wasp. No. I am here to discuss my only area of expertise: how to have a perfect aperitivo hour. This morning I was reading DealBook and they had a short bit about the continued “resilience” of the Aperol spritz. Legally I’m not sure when a trend term-limits out and just becomes, I don’t know, a tradition? And while I am genetically bound to honor tradition (see: that whole episode of This American Life about Fiddler on the Roof), I also think there are so many products on the market that are superior to, or at least as fun to try, as Aperol.

As with most European-born habits, the existence of aperitivo hour is actually like half the age of our country (ok, Aperol was invented in 1919). As a person of Being Basic experience, my introduction to the Aperol spritz circa 2015 was a watershed in the expansion of my drinking habits. To be fair, the Brits do have their own pseudo spritz, the Pimm’s Cup, which I’ve been drinking since I was maybe 17??? But it’s absolutely English in the sense that it’s not nearly as refined as it thinks—we’re just guzzling a drink of gin and fruit salad??? I mean, do not get me wrong: it is great, but no one at Pitti Uomo is begging for cucumber punch and a cheeky cig. I’ve rarely had a Pimm’s Cup and not immediately been mentally transported to the gazebo in my uncle’s backyard—you have a spritz and you are in a European square, surrounded by cobblestones and impossibly chic women named Franca or Celeste. Both serve a purpose, but since this is our weekend of independence, let’s quit with the Brits and focus on the the spritz.

So I’m reading DealBook (listen we all know I love Matt Levine a lot, but he’s not devoting paragraphs to “everything is bitters” content) and I see this fun little chart about the increasing market share of Aperol in Campari’s annual sales:

Naturally I got to thinking about my affinity for the Aperol spritz and its share in my personal beverage consumption. Around 2017, I was introduced to the Cappelletti spritz when they ran out of Aperol at Fairfax. (Demand for trendy drinks definitely outstrips supply in the West Village.) From then on, I became freakishly interested the possibilities of aperitivi and the vehicle of the spritz.

We all know that the Aperol spritz is basically the liqueur, sparkling wine, soda, and garnish. A perfect drink. Serve it with some olives, cheese, charcuterie—the Italians nailed la dolce vita. Given Aperol’s dominance, it’s led to a great resurgence of the category. Beyond Cappelletti (a bright, sweet, orangey liquer that is perfect full stop), there’s a wealth of aperitifs to explore:

Forthave Red: I have a bottle of this at home; based out of Brooklyn, Forthave has been doing fun stuff—gins, amaros, a coffee thing that I didn’t try but gave to a friend as an Xmas gift (I still haven’t had the nerve to drink an espresso martini, but she’s Australian and that’s like water to them)—but I stick to the red. It’s drier, closer to a Campari, with both the citrus and cherry flavors you can get from various aperitifs. 

Faccia Bruto: Another BK-based company (I am borough-loyal). By now you’ve likely seen their products all over. They make that bright green imitation chartreuse that I have heard smells terrible but mixes well. Since none of us can ever get a table at Rucola this this the second best. It’s smoky and tastes like cherry - I like it for a stronger drink, it only needs a really light Prosecco. 

Bruto Americano: Based in CA, this Bruto is also a Campari-adjacent substitute. My brother introduced this to me after our friend who lives in Cambridge introduced it to him. I think the last time we had a bottle at home in NJ we went through it pretty fast. I recall it wasn’t overpoweringly herby, and I think we went in a gin direction with it. 

Cocchi Americano (red or bianco): Another option my brother brought into the mix. Bianco is less sweet and while it still has the floral notes it is more balanced with the taste of herbs (see below as well). I don’t have a bottle of either Cocchis at home right now, but they’re on the long list. 

Berto Bianco: Let’s stick with biancos for a moment. Recently I’ve been doing a lot of vermouth and soda with a twist. I especially like biancos because they pair really nicely with citrus and are so light; perfect for a really oppressively humid day, or just an easy drink while you make dinner. The Berto is a household fave. It’s a Kermit Lynch import and I first discovered it at Formaggio’s in Cambridge so you know it has been given the snob stamp of approval. It’s bright but you can really taste the herbs.

Occhipinti Naturale (orange or red): Another vermouth! If you were one of the many people who, like me, got Occhipinti pilled after the Stanley Tucci Italy show came out, you got interested in the Occhipinti family. While Arianna makes the popular SP68 wines, another branch is busy making these vermouths. Every time I’m in Astor I wonder if this is the trip where I drop $55 on vermouth (I have yet to). But I really liked this the last time I had it. Made from moscato grapes, it has that more floral taste which can be really lovely on a humid summer afternoon.

Honorable mention also goes to: Lo-Fi Gentian, Contratto, and Select. You won’t mind displaying any of these bottles at home, either. I’m not trying to cut into Aperol’s market share, what’s nice about effective marketing is that the spritz pie is big enough for everyone to have a slice now. Honestly, I skip the Prosecco if I make anything at home, all you need is a twist of citrus and some seltzer and it’s just as refreshing (and easier to have a second round).

If you want to try these out as the Italians intended, find yourself a good spot to post up at during aperitivo hour. In BK, I like Aita for that. Manhattan has a ton of options: Jolene, Bar Pisellino (if you can get a seat), Dante, any place that is non-douchey and on a roof (are they mutually exclusive? Not my call, I’m a douche!).

Fix any of these up and, to quote Ariana Grande—right now I’m in a state of mind I want to be in, like, all the time. Once we get to summer my body needs to hear either yacht rock or Vampire Weekend at least once a day while I’m having seltzer. Make something effervescent, turn on Father of the Bride if the vibe is backyard, or Contra if you’re near a beach. Keep yourself rich in casteveltranos and whatever you do, don’t skimp on the mortadella, please. Enjoy the new freckles you’ve earned and happy Independence Day: welcome to spritz season.

[columboscreens]

[ndostairlyrium]

...tell me there are fanarts of such parades because this is such an interesting fact

[sysig]

Come back as a flower, spring Baby

Tala took it pretty hard. Makes sense

Hopefully, anyway. Live food that has the opportunity to hide can be hard to keep track of, so it’s possible they were stressed too... But at least that would be something familiar, not a big scary shadow to run away from

Even selfish, childish thoughts deserve a place to be recognized. There’s no utility in piling shame on top of grief

It felt really strange to logically know that they were gone but still believing so hard that I could somehow undo it, that they’d start moving again if I just did the right thing. Death really does strange things to the brain

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Wolf hybrid pack thought you were an innocent little bun, walking through town, bending over so they could catch a glimpse of your white panties, sometimes your skirt would even get caught on your fluffy bunny tail, letting them catch a whiff of your scent.

You always smelled so good, they couldn’t resist following after you.

They watched as you plump thighs squished together as you sat down at your favorite cafe, licking an ice cream cone and letting the white cream fall onto your cleavage.

And sometimes they’d be lucky enough for you to forget to wear panties, such a cute, forgetful little bun.

In reality, every little accident was a purposeful action meant to tease and coax the wolves to finally grab and mount your cute self.

Today you were feeling extra horny, your fingers just weren’t enough to satisfy you… so you let your juices run down your thighs, running back to the village without your panties.

It was bordering on mating season, and god you wanted to be fucked so badly! Wolf hybrids truly didn’t understand… they saw you as a fragile, innocent little thing when all you wanted was to feel all their knots fill you up with hot and sticky cum!

So you wander into town, smelling like a bitch in heat. You don’t bother with panties, only spritzing on some perfume.

Instantly you were being followed. You caught sight of a pair of wolf ears darting through the stalls, a wagging tail peaking out from behind a tree. The pack was on your tail.

You tried your best not to just bend over and wiggle your bottom right there. It was taking everything you had to ignore your instincts to mate and let yourself be mounted, especially with it being so close to mating season!

After you noticed quite a few wolf hybrids were after you, you settled onto a bench, keeping your chubby thighs open so the smell of your sipping wet pussy wafted through the air.

There were eyes on you from very angle, watching as you lifted your skirt. You put on a show, your soft nose twitching as your played with your fat pussy.

Some of them were getting braver, and the smell of wolf hybrid musk filled your nose. It got you off, seeing all those bobbing red cocks ready to fuck into your pretty little bunny cunt.

Before you knew it, you were being pinned down, your small holes stretched with a fat cock. It made you mewl, your fluffy cotton tail wagging furiously as another cock pressed against your soft lips.

After a while you lost count on how many cocks had entered your fat pussy, how many creampies that filled you up. All you could think about was how good it felt to be a completely helpless little bunny, trapped under yet another horny wolf that was ready to breed you~

It was bliss, being manhandled into another position, being completely stuffed and filled. You couldn’t be happier…

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[tomandgeriatric]

I have a signature fall perfume combo but not for the other seasons. Hmmm

[torontovsparis]

Recipe for Lemon Spritz Cookies Full of zesty, tangy flavor and soft texture from cream cheese, these lemon spritz cookies are perfect for the holiday season.

[sunsetsimon]

more random simon headcanons <3

☼ his favorite colors are black, blue, and grey. his personal style is very plain, black hoodies, white tee's, and black sweatpants are his go to. simon doesn't want to stand out any more than he already does with his large frame, so he opts for comfort over style.

☼ simon is very helpful around the house, constantly tidying up and fixing anything with a problem. he has no issue doing the dishes or folding the laundry, but for some reason he hates sweeping and mopping? you don't get it, it's not an intense or demanding chore, but simon claims that "it's too boring" and he'd rather trade something else with you. it becomes an agreement for him to do most things in the room, and then you come in after to finish with a quick sweep and mop.

☼ he's extremely low maintenance. he always buys the cheapest products he sees, opting for a basic body wash and 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner. when you first started dating, he didn't even own a proper face wash, using the bar of soap from his shower. simon isn't the type to have a whole routine, but he does pay more attention to the things he purchases so he can impress you with a new scented body wash or a moisturizer you'd mentioned.

one of his favorite gifts to ever receive from you is a bottle of cologne, loving the way you're drawn to him every time he gives himself a spritz. now every christmas he asks you to get him a new one that you'd like him to wear!

☼ cannot handle spice for the life of him. we all know that foods in the UK are usually seasoned with just salt and pepper, and not commonly spicy, so he's sensitive to it. something you may consider mild will have him breaking into a sweat and chugging down a bottle of water to ease some of the burn. his cheeks get flushed red and he just shakes his head in pain, reminding himself to never trust you when you say "oh it's not that spicy!" ever again.

☼ he has the lowest screen time, averaging about 20-30 minutes a day, and that time is spent either texting/calling you, taking photos of you, looking through photos of you, or making lists for you. the only extra app he has downloaded is goodreads, and even then you were the one that downloaded it and created his account. his passcode is set as your birthday too of course.

he's a little obsessed.

[itoshi-s]

espresso martinis are just 😵‍💫 killer

[zepskies]

Hahaaa a small eternity later.~ ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥🔥

And I know right?? She's awesome. 🤣

Break Me Down - Part 7

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them… [18+ only! Rated M]

**Start from the beginning: Prologue

AN: I think a lot of you have been waiting on this one…and stick around after the end for something special!

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Can’t Wait” by Foreigner (if you listen to it, you’ll see why).

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut and feels. That is all.

Part 7: Until Midnight

Two weeks later, you could admit that Ben was frustrating you in a different way than usual. 

You didn’t want to like him, or be indebted to him. But he was different lately whenever the two of you were alone. Especially at night, when the two of you often met in the kitchen. 

It was the one time where he truly seemed to relax, without his men around him. Without the Soldier Boy persona he wore like a fine tailored suit. 

One night, the two of you were once again sitting together in the kitchen after a marathon of all three Hangover movies. Now you each had a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, of which you’d convinced him to try the “Chunky Monkey” so you could have your “Half Baked” brownie pieces and cookie dough to yourself. 

Ben had all but inhaled his, while you were still chipping away at half the pint.

“You still hate me?” he asked.

You paused in delving into a thick piece of brownie to look up at his bearded face, which was deceptively nonchalant. If he was asking you that, then he really did want to know.

Yet it was a harder question to answer than you would’ve thought a couple of weeks ago. You decided to level him with the truth this time.

“Like I said before, I don’t have a personal vendetta against you or anything,” you admitted. 

Ben rose a brow at you. “But you hate me.” 

You sighed. He could be so childish sometimes.

“Have you forgotten that you’re still holding me against my will?” you pointed out. “Presumably until my team can find me, and you can pick them off one by one.”

“You fuckers came at me first,” he countered. “And I haven’t touched you. Hell, I saved you.”

Yes, he had. You couldn’t ignore that fact.

But there were other reasons that he needed to be put in check.

“You’ve killed a lot of fucking people, Ben,” you said. “I can’t imagine how many of them didn’t deserve it. And before you start, collateral damage is not an excuse. It’s murder. You haven’t seemed to care about that, or much of anyone other than yourself and your own amusement.” 

There. Cards on the table.

Ben set down his ice cream on the counter with enough force to rattle his spoon. He crossed his arms at you.

“You’re pretty fucking high and mighty for someone who probably spent the last few years up Vought’s shithole,” he pointed out, shaking his head. “Doing their dirty work. Whatever I did back then, it didn’t end with me. You were part of it too.”

You frowned in annoyance. A hot retort was poised on your tongue.

Whatever he did back then? He’d crashed a skyscraper and killed nineteen people last year! He’d taken out nearly the entire cast of Payback, his old team. However justified he felt about the latter, taking a life was taking a goddamn life!

You wanted to say all that and more…but you paused.

Because he wasn’t exactly wrong, about you at least. You knew you’d done your fair share of shit. And you had taken people out, when you’d needed to.

For self-defense, to stop a criminal, to protect someone…and yes, sometimes, you’d been part of the cleanup crew. Disposing bodies and extracting supes from “unfortunate situations.”

Those times made you feel less than human for being a part of it. And it was the main reason why you’d gotten the courage to quit Vought and join Supe Affairs in the first place…

You frowned at the trail of your thoughts, but his voice soon jolted you out of them.

“Ain’t this a bitch,” said Ben. “If you could, you’d want me dead. Even though I saved you.” 

Your lips pursed. “Dead is a strong word.” 

His angry gaze on you was unrelenting.

“Asleep is as good as dead for me.”

You stared back at him in resignation. Fair enough.

You couldn’t refute that, but you also didn’t know what he wanted from you. He was implying that he wanted you not to hate him, but he wasn’t willing to let you go either.

You got up to put your spoon in the sink, mostly so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore.

Ben rose from his seat. You felt him approach from behind. You still tensed up as his arm reached around your form to drop in his own spoon. His arm withdrew, but he stood just behind you, at your side. His hand curled around the edge of the counter.

Letting out a discreet, steadying breath, you turned towards him and met his assessing gaze…but you soon looked away.

It was too much. He was too much. Even his musky cologne was invading your senses, threatening to cloud your judgment.  

Before you could back away, Ben grasped your chin, tilting your face up to him so you couldn’t hide. He heard your pulse picking up with his sensitive ears.

“Well, well. Your heart’s just racing away, baby doll,” he said.

He smirked at the blush rising in your cheeks, despite your defiant gaze. You might’ve said you wanted to put him to sleep, but you definitely didn’t seem to hate him. 

“You know, that offer’s still on the table,” he said. Your brow quirked, and you crossed your arms.

“What offer?”

Ben’s hand slid along to frame your jawline, his thumb sweeping across your reddened cheek.

“I can help you end that little dry spell of yours,” he drawled. “Calm that pretty head and have you sleeping soundly tonight.”

Oh, he’d help you fucking sleep, he thought.

He’d help you not be able to sit on that perfect ass for a week. He’d gladly work you up with fingers, lips, and tongue until you threatened to fucking drown him. Until you were writhing at his touch and singing just for him. Until you begged him to fuck you.

But you just rolled your eyes at his offer with a huff. Maybe you didn’t believe he was serious. Oh, but he fucking was.

Overall, you were a pain in his ass. And you had been from the beginning.

You had a dangerously smart mouth for a woman. Along with a stubborn streak to rival his, and a strangely self-righteous attitude for someone who’d mucked through the bowels of Vought and played a part in that world, just like him. You weren’t so fucking innocent either.

But he could also see that you were trying to be different. You had a conscience. A family and friends and a lot of other things that Ben didn’t have anymore. And maybe never had to begin with…

You claimed to want to bring him down, but you cooked for him, hung out with him, and he could start to believe that you actually enjoyed his company, rather than pretended for self-preservation’s sake.

You were a fucking conundrum that he couldn’t totally figure out. And all the while, you didn’t seem to realize how much of a temptation you were. 

It didn’t matter if it was that sexy red dress at the club or these plain-ass jeans you were wearing. His hands itched to mold to your curves, squeeze and tease and familiarize himself until he could find out how glorious it would be to damn near suffocate between your thighs.

Your pretty blush, however, was spreading down your neck. Ben wondered how far he could make it go as he glanced down your V-neck top. His smile edged into a grin.

“I’ll admit, maybe I haven’t been the best host,” he said, injecting some charm. “You gotta be bored as all hell by now.”

You swallowed as his hand moved down the side of your neck. His fingers slid into your hair, but he kept the smooth pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek. You didn’t want to admit that it felt nice—and electrifying at the same time.

His touch was raising goosebumps down the back of your neck, tingling down your spine.

“You might be projecting,” you managed to quip. “Is the conveyor belt of prostitutes and drugs finally losing its appeal?”

You studied his face, his smirk, and you had a feeling you had deduced correctly: he was bored too. But now you knew why he didn’t want you to hate him.

He just wanted to fuck you.

That thought wasn’t so surprising. It seemed this man could jump into bed with just about anything with a pulse. But it still made a tendril of heat lick up your spine and your face flush.

You should’ve just pushed him away already…but his nearness was mucking up your good sense.

The truth was, you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore. And maybe you didn’t hate him.

Maybe…

“Well, what’s it gonna be?” he asked you.

Your lips parted, halting on a reply.

Ben smirked. His hand tightened in your hair, and he finally began to lean down.

But your breath hitched. You instinctively pressed your hands against his chest before he could kiss you, a firm push.

“Ben,” you uttered.

He stopped, looking down at you with knitted brows. He just thought you were being stubborn now, a fucking tease even…

Until he saw the frisson of fear in your eyes.

He quirked a resigned smile. Stroking your cheek one last time, he let you go.

“All right,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

Your heart was hammering like a Phil Collins drum solo inside your chest as you made your way back to your room.

What the hell, what the hell.

He’d teased and flirted with you before, but not like this. It wasn’t totally obnoxious or disgusting, like he’d genuinely been trying to persuade you. He’d even looked disappointed when you stopped him. And he’d allowed you to stop him.

(And you resisted a shudder at the contrasting memory of Antonio.)

When you were back in your room, you released a relieved sigh. Your hands trembled on the doorknob.

But it wasn’t fear that’d made you nervous with Ben. Not exactly. It was the insane part of you that actually wanted to take him up on his offer.

Fuck, you thought, raising a palm to your still-warm forehead. I really must be crazy. Or sick. Sick in the head.

Or it had been a stupidly long time since you’d gotten laid.

“Seriously, tell me,” he’d said once, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes.

“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched? ‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a damn shame.”

The memory caused a delicate tingle in your lower belly, pulsing between your legs. You took in a deep, calming breath through your nose.

That’s it, you thought. I’m done with this.

So you tried for a cold shower first. For the record, you locked the bathroom door before you undressed and hopped into the shower. As the water beat against your back and you dutifully lathered soap on your skin, you couldn’t help imagining his heavy hands running over your body.

Fuck. You frowned and quickly dragged yourself out of the shower.

For a few minutes, you were too antsy to get dressed. You paced your small room wearing only a towel, not even thinking really. Just frustrated beyond belief (sexually or otherwise). The truth was, you needed something, or you were going to implode. 

With a heavy sigh, you laid in bed on your side, still wrapped in your towel. You wrapped your hair up in a loose bun and closed your eyes, just taking a few moments to breathe evenly.

Your knees were folded up, almost to your chest. But you relaxed and let your thighs fall open. With a tentative hand, you decided to slide up between your thighs, just teasing the seam of your pussy.

Then with a sigh, you delved between your folds and teased yourself, to start with. Warmth grew in your lower belly, and you sighed louder when you slid a finger inside. You were wet already just with this, and your sighs turned to shallow breaths, and even a moan once heat flooded through your core, and you were getting close…

But a knock at the door just had to startle you.

“Hey, sweetheart. You there?”

Your eyes widened with a gasp, and you moved your hand back to your thigh. Oh shit.

It was Ben. Of course it was fucking Ben.

“Ah, w-wait a minute,” you replied. You scrambled out of bed to lock the door before he tried to come in.

But just your luck, he cracked it open just as you got there. You were met with his handsome face.

His brows rose, his lips then curving when he looked down at you. Or more specifically, you clad in only a towel. You tightened it up on reflex, with a hand on the twisted part at your chest.

“Excuse me,” you said in annoyance. “I don’t remember inviting you in.”

His mouth twitched at a deeper grin.

“It’s nothing major. I just had to ask you something,” he said, with an air of nonchalance that only made you suspicious.

Your lips pressed together as you rose an expectant brow.

“Okay, ask,” you said.

Ben reached for your hand, the one holding your towel together.

“Can I see this hand?”

You yelped and secured the towel with your other hand while he examined the one he held.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, with real irritation now. Ben ignored you in favor of staring at your hand, specifically the pads of your fingers. Then his gaze cut to you slyly.

He held your middle and index finger up to his nose, with an obscene inhale.

Your eyes grew wide as your heart stuttered. He did not just…

And Ben smirked.

“I think you’re the one with the fucking problem,” he said knowingly. He took a step forward, but you stepped back. Unfortunately, that just brought your back against the doorframe. Your mouth went dry when you again looked up at him.

“I don’t know what—”

He stopped you before you could deny it further.

“You think I couldn’t fucking hear you?” he asked.

You bit your lip. Oh God.

His brows ran even higher, his smirk ever deeper. His lust-ridden eyes raked over you, but they soon met yours again. His thumb ran down the inside of your wrist, over your quickening pulse point.

“I know you’re frustrated. It’s been a while, huh?” he said. “Believe me, I know the fucking feeling. But I can take care of that little problem for you. Take care of you.”

You took in a tremulous breath. His heady voice was a curse, reverberating through your chest and running straight down between your legs, warm and pulsing. He raised your chin to make you look up at him.

“You don’t have to like me for that, do you?” he asked.

It was as honest an offer as you were ever going to get. You had to give it to him though, in this, he was a good goddamn actor. He seemed to have figured out exactly what it would take to soften your resolve.

In fact, he fucking crumbled it.

You released a shuddering breath, and tugged him into your room by his shirt. With a hand behind his neck, you pulled him down into your hungry lips.

That kiss was warm and heady, fueled with a passion that only waiting and wanting could create.

Ben took the invitation to heart, grabbing your hips and already bunching the fabric of your towel. It was thin, and he felt the soft give of your curves underneath. He hoisted you up into his arms.

While a normal man might’ve struggled, you knew it was effortless for him. You willingly wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face with both hands. You broke the kiss for a second so you could brush his hair back and made sure he looked into your eyes this time.

“I don’t hate you,” you told him between panting breaths. “I should, but I don’t.”

And that was the God’s honest truth.

Ben paused at that. He roamed your face, maybe judging if he believed you or not.

Then, his mouth curved, and with one hand he reached back to slam your bedroom door shut. It shook on its hinges, but he didn’t wait for it to settle as he walked you to the bed and laid you there beneath him. Your hair fell out of its messy bun and fanned out beneath you on the pillow.

Ben gazed down at you, enjoying the sight of you all laid out for him. You were already breathing shallowly, your beautiful eyes bright with anticipation and wild desire. They were honest, and he liked that he finally knew what you were thinking.

He claimed a tight grip on your smooth thighs, parting them so he could find his way in between. He moved his way up to claim your lips next. They were plush and pliant under his.

You sighed against his mouth, diving a hand into his soft hair and running a hand down to the buttons of his shirt. He stopped you and all but tore it off himself.

You blinked in surprise, and then giggled a little at his impatience. But it allowed you to explore the new expanse of golden tan skin, down his neck, over his firm chest and muscular arms.

He relished in it for a moment—your touch. Your hands were soft and warm, and you looked to be genuinely enjoying yourself.

He smirked at that, but he grabbed your wrists before they could venture too much farther than the trail of hair leading below his belt. He trapped them against the bed on either side of your head, and you raised your brows at him with an annoyed little frown. Ben had to chuckle.

“Did I say you could touch me yet?” he said. You met him with a challenging tilt of your chin.

“Who says you get to make all the rules?” you asked. Your calf slid up between his legs, brushing insistently against his already rock-hard length. Ben let out something between a grunt and a moan, and didn’t realize that his grip on your arms was starting to get more than bruising.

You winced, with a pained sound caught in your throat. “Ben, you’re gonna break me.”

He amended his grip immediately, frowning at himself. He knew how to control his goddamn strength, even in moments like this (usually). Maybe he was too fucking excited to finally have you beneath him.

But he soothed his thumbs over your wrists and heeded the tug of your hands down to your waiting kiss. He braced an arm above your head and all but devoured you, slipping his tongue past your lips.

He kissed you like a man starving. Like you’d never been kissed in your life, and it was all you could to keep up with his demands.

Eventually he burned a wet trail from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck. He inhaled your floral soap, a scent that had been driving him crazy for days.

He sucked hard behind your ear, and you gasped, thought you were going to see stars.

Unconsciously you gripped at his hair, tugging more harshly than you meant to. But by the pleased sound he made against your skin, you figured he didn’t mind.

Ben soothed a heavy hand up your side and reached between you to untie your flimsy towel. And you let out a slightly shaky breath when he took in your fully naked form for the first time.

“Hmm,” his lips slipped into a grin. “I knew it. Fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but blush, but you didn’t quite know what to say. Ben noticed; it wasn’t too often that he had you speechless.

Amused, he thumbed at your lower lip once more, making you smile almost shyly. (He kind of liked that too.)

And he finally touched you, brushing a hand between the valley of your breasts before palming at one of them. You sighed in appreciation, then moaned as his lips found the other one, his tongue swirling languidly around your nipple.

You arched into his touch, gripped into every groove and dip of muscle in his arms, especially when his fingers rolled and pinched just hard enough on the other nipple.

Your thighs pressed together between the cage of his legs, trying to find friction.

Ben noticed. He let one hand sooth down your belly, half pinning you down as he continued his relentless exploration. You wanted to touch him too, but right now he wasn’t letting up. Everywhere he touched and kissed and sucked set your skin on fire, and enhanced the flood between your legs.

“Ben,” you panted into his ear. If you weren’t allowed to find out what he liked yet (though you had several ideas), then you wanted him to touch you. 

“Be fucking patient,” he said with a chuckle. “I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You had no doubt of that. But you were becoming impatient.

“Yeah? Am I gonna be as old as you before we get to it?” you teased. Ben glanced up at you, but seeing your smirk, his own grew.

“All right you little shit,” he muttered. He moved up to claim your smart-ass lips, swallowing your giggle as he took a firm grip of your hair.

His other hand, meanwhile, slid up the back of your thigh to grip a nice handful of your ass. He ground his clothed dick into your core and made you both moan.

He slipped a hand up the inside of your thigh and brushed between your legs, making you quiver with anticipation.

He smiled and glanced down.

“Finally, something I recognize in this century,” he remarked. “A nice bush.”

Your brows raised high, both in surprise and slight embarrassment. No one had ever given you that particular compliment before. But you did pride yourself on being neatly trimmed.

“What?” you still uttered.

“Women are so damn waxed nowadays. Feels like I’m fucking a mannequin,” he said.

“Oh, yeah.” You giggled as something occurred to you. “I’m assuming you encountered some bare landing strips on your tour of Brazil.”

He snorted in response. “One girl actually tried to get me on the waxing table. Something about a ‘manzilian.’”

You couldn’t help it. You pictured how confused he must’ve been at that particular offer. How damn near offended (and possibly intrigued).

And you laughed genuinely so hard that you covered your eyes as they teared up.

It made Ben smirk on reflex, feeling pleased that he achieved that kind of reaction out of you. 

“You tapped out on that one, huh?” you asked, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

Ben shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad, actually.”

At that, you laughed even harder. Oh, how you wished you could’ve seen that. 

Ben quirked an amused brow at you.

“You laughin’ at me, sweetheart?” he warned. He reached between your legs while you were distracted, and thick fingers slipped between your wet folds. You yelped in surprise, but then moaned in pleasure as his thumb found your already sensitive clit.

But he, in fact, knew how to take care of you. His thick digits explored your channel and rubbed persistently against that spongey part near the back, slipping in and out with ease, and circling deliberately around your clit until your inner walls squeezed around his hand.

All the while, you held on tight to his shoulders and shuddered at the warmth cresting deep inside you.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, with a clenching hand in your hair. “Squeeze the shit out of me. Come all over my fucking hand, and then I’ll consider filling you up to the fucking brim.”

With a long and keening moan, you came apart, hot and wet over his fingers. 

“Shit. That’s a good girl,” he praised with a nod. He stroked inside you a couple more times before he withdrew his glistening hand.

You held onto his other one as you panted for breath. “Fuck.”

“Fucking right,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes, but you still smiled as you sat up and went for his belt. You were surprised he hadn’t fully undressed himself sooner, but he sat up and let you do it.

The two of you knelt on the bed as the belt came free, followed by his pants and underwear and socks (he’d long ago kicked off the shoes). His smug smirk came back now that he was in his full glory, so to speak.

Another blush heated your face. You’d seen him like this once before, but there had been…a lot going on that time.

This time you had him all to yourself. Your canvas to explore. You started with kisses down his neck, like he’d done to you, biting and sucking though you couldn’t leave any marks on his skin.

Not fair, you thought in disappointment, but at least you were eliciting some pleased and guttural sounds the further down you went. And then you took his hard, velvety cock in your hands.

He was big enough that you were maybe a little concerned, but not enough to deter you as you teased him with your soft hands, then squeezed and caressed experimentally. He gripped your hips tight.

“Now who’s taking a fucking eternity,” he gritted out. He encouraged you to lie back and raised your hips. You found purchase on his shoulders as your eyes met with his, and after a beat, you smiled and gave a short nod.

Ben aligned himself at your entrance and, slowly as he could manage, pushed inside you. You cried out as he stretched you, filled you deep and bottoming out with mangled moans from both of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so fucking good already.”

You managed to smile and run a hand down his chest. “Uh, you didn’t ask, but I am on birth control.”

His brows furrowed in realization. “What, the fucking pill?”

His team certainly hadn’t supplied you with that for the past month.

You shook your head. “No. An IUD. It’s fine.”

You couldn’t believe you two were having this conversation when he was literally inside you already.

“What? Thought those died out in the 70s,” he said.

“Well, they came back,” you said impatiently. “Just fuck me, Ben!”

Not one to be told twice, Ben continued by slowly pulling out of you, nearly the entire length of his cock, before pushing back in. It was torturous for him, but he knew you needed the time to adjust. By the third stroke, however, he snapped back into you more forcefully.

It elicited a gasp and pleased shudder out of you. Grinning, he picked up the pace from there and pounded into you at a relentless clip. You held onto his arms for dear life, your nails clawing fruitlessly into his skin. You grabbed his hand when he reached a particularly good angle, moaning his name.

“That’s right, crooner. Soon enough I’ll have you singing my fucking name,” he growled. “Knew I was gonna have you just like this, fucking you raw.”

You moaned in response. His words, his voice, his touch, it was all breaking you down and taking you apart, piece by piece.

Meanwhile, your voice only spurred him on. Letting go of your hand, his reached for your cheek. Then it slid down to your neck.

“You got a safe word, baby girl?” he asked, closing a firm, but playful hand around your throat.

But before he could put much pressure, your eyes flew open. Not in arousal, but in panic. Your hands flew to grasp at his wrist.

“Don’t! Please, don’t.” 

Ben looked down at you, surprised enough to pause in all his movements. He released his hand.

He’d very rarely seen wide-eyed panic in your eyes and in your voice. And you’d never said please. 

But then, even more strange, you got embarrassed.

You looked away from him as you caught your breath. Ben called to you uncertainly, perhaps for the first time using your actual name.

You took in a deep breath and sat up. But instead of pushing him away, like he half-expected, you moved so that you were both on your knees and you were straddling his lap.

Using his shoulders as leverage, you resumed the pace of dipping his still hard cock inside you, making you both groan in relief.

Ben helped you, gripping your hips to bounce you on top of him.

Soon enough, he grunted as that familiar tightening and heat of pleasure started to make his upward thrusts wild. He knew he was close…

And he snaked a hand between you to roll over your clit, making sure you were going to get there with him.

A deep tremble went through your lower belly, tightening your inner walls around him impossibly tight as you started to come. Then he followed, finally spilling up and into you.

His arms came around your waist like steel bands as you relaxed on top of him, panting for breath and holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

You gazed down into his eyes, and then his growing, triumphant smirk. It triggered your own wry smile.

And you had to wonder, What the hell did I just do?

AN: Was it as good for you as it was for me? 😏

But ok, seriously, I'm a bit self-conscious when it comes to writing smut, so I genuinely hope you enjoyed the ride lol.

(@waynes-multiverse You probably won't see this for a while, but our convo about the Brazilian wax made it into this chapter. 🤣)

Special Feature:

Check out this lovely moodboard created by @chernayawidow — specifically for this story!

I am obsessed:

She also takes requests, so just message her!

Next time:

You called his name again and took his face with both hands.

“Wherever you are in your mind right now, you’re here with me. Stay with me!” you raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot.

You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you. His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his.

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[columboscreens]

[ndostairlyrium]

never in a million years I would've thought Paola e Chiara would appear on this blog

But it seems correct.

Have a playlist

[kcrossvine-art]

Hey folks! Itsssssssssssss timeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee for another dungeon meshi cooking time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Isnt that neat.

Its weird to think how long its gonna be before season 2 of the anime drops. Anyway go read the manga i promise you wont regret it. This ones from senshis lil garden on legs-

Today we'll be making Golem Field Fresh Veggie Lunch!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Golem Field Fresh Veggie Lunch?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts vegetables, vegetable wauter, and not Much else! Knife is there too.

Head of cabbage

4 carrots

3 potatoes

2 onions

2 turnips

Thick slice bacon

Butter

Seasoned rice vinegar

I lied theres pork did you fall for it did u catch it.

AND, “what does Golem Field Fresh Veggie Lunch taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKSon, have you ever eaten a vegetabel

Broth is surprisingly flavorful considering the limited spices and short cooktime

Potatoes are perfect texture for dipping

Cabbage absorbed a lot of the juices!!!

Was more impressed by the salad part of the meal-

The turnips need to be sliced enough to Barely see through, and the carrots julienned thin enough to be almost peels

And its this wonderful vegetable confetti tasteful in its simple pleasure

Rice vinegar of any kind will work, seasoned rice vinegar is just what i had

Salt both parts of the meal generously

In the future i wouldve shredded or cut the cabbage much smaller. We'll talk more on that later. Its also intentionally barebones with spices and oils, me using butter and rice vinegar is even pushing the limits of show accurate because in the show they used plain olive oil.

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

From idea to execution, this was a very quick recipe. For starters, nothing gets cooked all that long (the water spends more time empty than it does ingredient'ed) and for lasters nothing gets cut all that much. It was tricky finding good sources for stewing a whole cabbage because most recipes call for either shredding or at least chopping smaller. And they do this for a reason. Its unwieldy trying to eat a whole half of cabbage, you never quite know when to start or where to start. Do you bite chunks out? Peel leaves? Spear it with other things? I dont know. I still dont. Im not a huge raw cabbage fan and it wasnt raw, but it wasnt transformed much either. Minimalist. 

This was a feast in the show and i bet that the freshness of the veggies were a factor, considering they were plucked fresh off the living rock guys. I wouldve killed to be able to brown the onions, roast the carrots, or maybe cube the potatoes (though the consistency was perfect for forking and dipping them in butter so! Bonuses.)

Oven roast bacon is a beloved treet for me. It seemed to absorb some of the vegetable broth and vice versa with the broth absorbing the oils from the bacon, which enhanced all the flavors. Maybe in the future itd be nice to try cooking the bacon a bit ahead, and then adding it to the pot while everythings boiling? Also adding a spritz of lemon juice to either/both is always nice!

I give this recipe a solid 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) for its simplicity. With modifications like shredding the cabbage and more seasonings, it could become an easy 10/10. hit that like and subscribe or kill me

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

Head of cabbage

4 carrots

3 russet potatoe

2 white onions

2 turnips

10 slices of thick slice bacon

Butter

Seasoned Rice vinegar

Stew Method:

Preheat your oven to 400f. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and place a baking rack on top (alternatively you can use a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper and no baking rack. but the baking rack lets the air circulate better and the grease drip off!)

Cook your bacon for about 18 minutes or until crisp. Flip halfway through.

Chop your carrots, peel and slice your potatos in half, and slice your onions into rings.

Get a large pot with a tight fitting lid, add water, salt, your carrots, your potato pieces, and your onions. Cover and heat to a low boil.

Cut the cabbage head in half down the middle. Once the pot is boiling, carefully add your cabbage to the pot and arrange the halves so theyre fully covered.

Cover and cook for about 13 minutes, the cabbage should be slightly crisp but have give to them. 

Remove from heat and laddle contents into a bowl, arrange some of your bacon along the sides so the fat and the broth mix :) salt and pepper to taste. And get a little saucer for butter so you can dip the potato pieces and/or coat the cabbage pieces.

Salad Method:

Peel your carrots and turnips. Cut off the ends of both. Julienne your carrots, and thinly slice your turnips.

Add your carrot greens (or your chosen leaf filler) to a bowl, then add your carrots and turnips.

Coat with seasoned rice vinegar, salt, and pepper. Thoroughly mix and enjoy :) 

[loveslibrarywp]

Tis the season

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Aemond, hasn’t been paying much attention to you. He’s always so caught up in work or his books, so you decide to find your own way for him to pay attention to you.

Warnings: NSFW. p in v sex. Teasing. Lingerie kink. Daddy kink. Sub!reader. Light Subspace. Creampie. Unprotected sex. Aemond being a meanie. Aemond wears glasses.

Authors note: felt a little jolly so I decided to write this bs. It’s lowkey shit but Merry Christmas!

Aemond had been very busy this holiday season with his family’s business and other things that needed his attention. Yet, he didn’t realize his girlfriend needed his attention as well.

You had been very frustrated due to the lack of affection your boyfriend had been given you. So, you decided to…mess with him a bit. Maybe get him a tad bit riled up.

You had recently bought a red mesh piece from a lingerie store at the mall for Christmas. It came with a top that made your tits look amazing and some skimpy, lacy panties.

Aemond loved whenever you’d dress up for him in see through night dresses or lacy underwear sets. You knew whenever he’d see you in your little outfit, he would fall right into your trap.

You peak into your shared room with your outfit tucked behind your back. Aemond was sat up on your big bed with a book in his hands. His long hair was tied up into a bun and his glasses on the bridge on his nose. He was dressed in a tight black T-shirt and some grey sweats. Lord, the sight of him like that was enough to get you all worked up.

You quickly ran to the bathroom in the hallway and shut the door quietly to not disturb him. You took of your clothes and threw on the red lingerie.

You looked amazing. Your tits were pushed up and on display and the mesh on the torso showed off the top of the red lace panties on your hips. You fixed your hair to make it look decent and spritzed on some perfume.

You huffed, feeling a bit nervous to be doing this. What if he got upset for trying to distract him or just simply ignored you?

You pushed all those bad thoughts aside and took a big breath in to calm your nerves. You quietly walked out of the bathroom and into the room. His eyes never even looked up at you, they stayed onto his stupid book.

You huffed, but an idea came into your head. You climbed onto the bed and into his lap. Your ass was on his crotch and your hands on his lower stomach. “What do you need?” He asked, his eye were still on his book. You started to get frustrated with him. You huffed.

His eyes finally caught yours and your form. He leaned his book down and stared at you with wide eyes. “Holy shit..” he mumbled as he took your beauty in. You smiled at his reaction, you felt excited that you were about to get what you wanted.

“What’s all this for, baby? Not that I’m complaining…” he asked as he set his book down and laid his hands on your hips. “I want you to pay attention to me…daddy.” You said with a smirk. You knew exactly how to get him going.

“Oh, sweet girl. Have I not being paying much attention to you lately?” He asked with a sympathetic expression on his gorgeous face. You nod your head, your hands drifted up his shirt and traced his strong abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Daddy will treat you good tonight.” He smirked as he moved his hands to your ass, gripping it roughly. You moved your lips to his, pressing them into a rough kiss.

Your lips moved together in sync. Your hands moved up to grip his broad shoulders as his stayed on your ass, moving your hips down onto his crotch.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling of his hard on growing underneath you. His hands moved up your body, caressing every inch of your skin. You felt like you were on fire with the arousal you were feeling burning inside of you.

He broke the kiss, “I’m gonna fuck you in this little outfit, that okay baby?” He asked, pulling his shirt off of his torso. Your mouth began to water at the sight of his toned body.

“I’m gonna need an answer before I start, honey.” He laughed. “Just fuck me, Aemond.” You said as you brought your hands down to the hem of his pants.

“I’m about too, baby.” He said, moving your panties aside and dipping his finger inside your wet cunt. He groaned at the feeling on his fingers. He rubbed the tip of his fingers onto your clit, making you shutter.

He removed his fingers, earning his a whine from you. He pushed his sweats and underwear aside and took out his cock. He gave himself a few pumps before running the tip across your cunt.

He slapped his tip against your swollen clit, making you whimper once again. “Please..” you whined, he chuckled at your pleads, “so desperate..”

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself in. You both moaned at the feeling of each other. You leaned into him and hid your face into his neck. He held you close as he helped you bounce on his cock.

The feeling of him thrusting in and out of you made you dumb, like you couldn’t talk or breathe or anything. All you could do was feel.

“Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you?” He cooed in your ear, his hot breath fanning onto your cheek. You nodded into his neck and gripped his shoulders to keep you propped up.

“Already going dumb on daddy’s cock, huh pretty girl?” He said, moving his right hand towards your cunt and his fingers onto your clit. You gasped at his touch on your clit, he added such an intense stimulation to what you were already feeling.

Your whimpers and moans filled the room, his soft and low grunts could only be heard by you. You felt your peak coming soon, it was racing to the edge.

“Daddy…’m close..” you whined into his ear as you slammed your hips down onto his. He smiled at you with such desire, “Cum baby, you deserve it since daddy hasn’t been treating you very good.” He said as he kissed your cheek.

His pace was fast and rough, his fingers moving fast on your clit. Your peak came fast and hard. You moaned loudly into his neck and Aemond helped you through your orgasam as he chased his own. His groans growing louder as his peak came.

He filled your cunt with his cum. You both just held each other for a moment as you tried to catch your breaths. “I love you, daddy..” you said as you laid your head onto his shoulder and looked up at him.

He looked down at you with his hair messy and his glasses fogged up and a lopsided smile painted onto his face, “I love you too, sweet girl. I’m sorry for not paying attention to you. It will not happen ever again, my pretty baby.”

You smiled up at him and nod. You felt so happy that he was finally paying you attention again. “Wanna go make some cookies and watch Christmas movies?” You asked.

“Is that even a question?”

[owlbee-writing]

TMA season five where everything is the same but Martin has a water bottle and spritzes Jon every time he answers a question ominously