#flavour tasters

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

A quick meal

cw: shameless smut, no use of y/n, female anatomy for reader, desk sex, dirty talk, slightly rough(-ish)? perhaps??

word count: 1,5k

eng is not my first language, please inform me if you spot any mistakes!

Viktor always knew it’s what inside that counts. And so he counted. Every rich moan escaping your mouth, every squelch of the fondly fingered pussy — it’s every prominence, fold and flexure, and, of course — exactly how much pressure you prefer on your clit. Well, at least that explanation was the only reasonably-appearing one to you, because how the hell did he know how to make you cream his fingers in coats of delicious stickiness in exactly few minutes, the stretch of them so qualitative your throbbing walls could easily accept his cock with little to no effort put into penetration. He must have used an ungodly amount of diligence to develop this specific technique just for you — his precious, lecherous sweetheart. Your whimpers are a devil on his shoulder, distracting him from being a stern, dispassionate about anything except for his research man. That little temptation invited him into the warmth of your precious core instead. It kept luring in, filling his genius mind with dreamy filth. Besides: it’s so much better to be buried within the tightness of your cunt than within the loneliness of his lab, untouched and craving you in his arms so desperately. No, he most certainly would prefer the first option.

“Relax,” sultry whisper teases your ear, while the free from fucking into you hand crawled up, preliminarily teasing the swell of each breast on its way to your throat — to be wrapped around it like a pretty collar, securely tight, not firm enough to actually hurt, but to rather keep you in place, adding to the thrill, to the longing.

He rarely fucks you like this. Viktor’s never been a huge fan of quickies — he’s a taster at heart, thorough and passionate — a sloppy kiss here, a teasing lick there — working you up even when it’s not needed anymore, for the sake of pure entertainment — more his than yours, to be completely honest, but he would never willingly admit to that.

He likes to savour you, like a fresh fruit one’s supposed to eat slowly — painfully so, even, memorising the flavour in explicit detail, letting it engrave into the taste receptors.

But there’s cyanide even in the finest peaches. Eat too many — and you’re incapable of consuming anything anymore, death plastered across your gourmand-face. It takes around fifteen peach pits to kill a curious starved soul, after all.

So tonight Viktor stays away from the cyanide. He’s had enough ravishing for now, turning a solid number of your previous intercourses into love-making. He’s eager, and he’s treating you like a quick meal — totally different from his usual ‘eat-you up-like-you’re-the main course’ demeanour. Not that you mind, of course. Dining hastily has its charms too.

“Keep your legs spread for me,” the gentle demand continues to sting your ear, and as much as you’d love to comply — you simply can’t, trembling knees doing you no favours, allowing no small mercies.

“Darling?” he repeats, the sharpness of his ‘r’ a scrumptious scratch to your brain, turning you into a mess — nearly irreparable, matching the one you’ve turned his desk into once he bent you over it, capturing tightly between his erection and the hard wooden edge, kindly depriving you off the worries about your clothes getting in the way. So thoughtful of him.

Rolled up skirt rests on your lower back, exposing the plumpness of soft hips — so grabable, they’re practically begging for his attention, but he’s reluctant to pull the long fingers out of you just yet. You’re clenching around them so perfectly, blessing him with the privilege of feeling your every twitch.

The presence of your underwear doesn’t concern you anymore — it’s wrapped around your ankles, pretty lace occasionally tickling the skin, reminding of the abrupt harshness Viktor’s sinewy hands had ripped them off you with. So brusque when it comes to fucking you from behind that a mere touch feels rougher than the deepest of thrusts. Your pussy might be able to take him without turning into a mess, but your sanity? You wish he’d left you some, just the tiniest bit to at least obey him easily.

But not all wishes were meant to be fulfilled.

You mewl something hopelessly illegible as your words drown in your own moan, lewd sounds of his fingers parting the swollen folds of an already spent cunt louder than your actual voice. And suddenly body language is not a figurative concept anymore.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” the kind threat encourages hoarsely. “Or should I spread them for you?”

You can only squeeze out a nod. Viktor releases your neck with a sympathetic chuckle, and a deft hand grabs at your left calf, helping a trembling leg to step out of the damp lingerie, leaving it completely forgotten and lonely on the floor. You’ll collect it later: if only the dirty-minded inventor lets you, of course. Which was highly doubtful, since tucking your undergarments into a pocket of his dresspants started to really grow on him lately. The possibility of obstaclessly fucking you over another surface once you’re in private again is too tempting to be pushed away so fast.

You fall on his desk, cold wood a tough pillow to your flushed cheek. However the loving hand stroking at your flesh doesn’t move to proceed with complaisant ministrations on your right limb. The buckle of his belt jingles, unfastening, negligently joining your underwear on the floor. You quirk an inquisitive eyebrow, putting a rather pathetic effort into propping yourself up, searching for an explanation to his movements. But a rough palm falls on your lower back with a thump, firmly pacifying, practically smacking.

“Don’t move, dear,” he hisses, pulling his fingers out of you right before you got the chance to cum all over them. Scarily rigorous again. And vicious. But you don’t say that. It’s not like you’re able to talk coherently anyway.

Something — which you suspect to be his foot — persistently forces your legs out of the way, sprawling you more for his hungry gaze. The toe of his shoe roughly kisses each one of your heels, spreading you open, just as he’d promised.

“How rude!” you exclaim, voice dripping with fake resentment.

“Rude?” he laughs, and the next thing you feel is a caring peck on a shoulder, the sweet heat of his breath back where it belongs — teasing the shell of your ear. “Well, please excuse me this one whim, but can you really blame me? Besides, I suppose my… barbarism happened to be quite efficient.”

His tip is pressed against your entrance, slowly working its way inside, brushing a puffy labia on its way. You’re sure it’s leaking with precum for you already — it might be impossible to feel through the lavish wetness seeping out of you, but you know Viktor good enough to be certain of pearly bitterish liquid breaking out of his slit.

You don’t lack his fingers anymore — not when you’re about to be so much more palpably filled, the thickness of his cock irreplaceable with any amount of his phalanxes. An unsolved mystery for both of you. The one leading you to an embarrassingly primitive statement — whatever it is so special about him keeps you coming back for more.

“There was no need to be so ill-mannered. I could have spread my legs just perfectly fine,” you mutter a shameless lie, already expecting a protest.

“And from my expertise you weren’t exactly competent,” Viktor mocks with a tortuously handsome smirk, and you make a fatal mistake of looking over your shoulder right when his narrow hips thrust into yours, his length splitting you with a delicious burn. It takes away the remnants of your stamina. “Because trust me, I can tell when one’s incapable of standing on their own feet — let alone moving properly. Coming from an adept, figuratively speaking.”

He bends lower, warm dry lips pressed to the glistening sweat on your temple. He doesn’t rush to have his way with you anymore, hand found peace on your chin, tilting up, gently forcing a thumb into the open mouth. You greet it with a needy bite, a wordless plea to convince him to finally start pounding into you, to satisfy the body lusting for his steady thrusts.

“You’re quivering,” Viktor notes with a pensive hum. “Shall I proceed? You look like you’re in more need of a cane than I am, my darling. So wobbly.”

The plea-bite on his thumb quickly turns into a menacing one. Canine pierces the skin, earning a muffled against the mess of your hair ‘ouch’, demanding the heartily craved resumption.

“Am I pinned like this forever or are you done with the fucking drollery?”

A sultry laugh caresses your ear, and the throbbing cock inside you slips almost all the way out, leaving you clenching purely around the bulging tip.

“Save the swearing,” utters the pretty tempter.

A rough roll of his hips into yours. Ass bounces off his pelvis, the slap of skin against skin loud and resonant, mingling with your desperate gasp just perfectly. Has you seeing numerous sparks, mouth drops open in a breathless ‘yes’.

“That vocabulary is only appropriate for an orgasm.”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #viktor smut #viktor x f!reader #viktor x reader smut #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane smut

[diejager]

My deep dark desire for a distillery au wherein each force is a competing distillery and you yeet an expert taster reader in there who is in charge of judging each whisky and ranking them. Either they are pulling out all the stops on your tour and treating you like a princess or doing the opposite and threatening you to rank them the highest :')

Mhairi, I am the worse person to ask about whiskey, my parents have delicious smelling ones, fruity and spicy ones, but taste wise? I gag like there’s no tomorrow, especially gin!! I hate gin. The only thing I can stomach so far is sweet, coffee and cream flavoured Baileys Irish Cream. (I know there’s Irish whiskey in it, but it’s only 17% compared to the 40% of any other whiskeys)

Eau De Vie Cw: Alcohol drinking, whiskey taste, tell me if I missed any.

Whisky had always been your favourite, your little secret that you shared with your closest friends alone —your penchent for judging whiskeys and bourbons alone, managing to include rum and brandy in rare occasions. So when you were approached by a known figure in the Whiskey industry that acted as the face for many distilleries across the world, you couldn’t turn down the offer when you were given so much in a simple deal.

You were responsible to drink and rank many popular brands by taste and smell alone, the only person delegated to become the judge. You were given the privilege of taking home a bottle of each brand after this competition, another reason to accept it. So you signed the contract without a second of hesitation, shaking her hand to conclude the deal before she left you squirming with excitement in your office home.

You were flown from your city to a calm part of the Scottish countryside, a chalet overlooking the Scottish highlands and its green beauty. This was the quaint house you would temporarily live in with the rest of the team orchestrating this friendly competition, leaving the connecting house up the cliff side to the different distilleries. From what you’ve heard, Kate Laswell - Kate you called her after a few meetings that had fully bloomed into a friendship of alcohol connoissoir - the participating teams were the British company 141 - who in coalition to Chimera and the ULF - would represent their alliance, the American Shadows, the multi-national KorTac and the Russian brewery Konni. They were all popular brands distilling whiskey and brandy in their own countries, creating a plethora of tastes and sensations that would explode on your tongue after a few sips.

You were ecstatic, your mouth salivating at the simple thought of tasting the finest whiskeys from around the world, but you had a few days to rest and tour the side of Scotland you were shipped to. What you expected to be calm and mild-mannered men and women from their side of the world to meet and eat with refined etiquette, was shattered the second you peered through the door after walking down the connecting path from your chalet to their house.

They were loud, rambunctious in the very sense of it, loud and jovial, hurling insults and hissing out jeers at one another. It was a dogfight between brewers, like cats and dogs. You felt like a stranger, gawking at the group hurling words at one another until it all stopped, the open living room falling in silence when they heard you drop your bag on the polished wood. You’ve never seen humans move so fast until the second after the silence, scrambling to clean the room up and wooing you with their compliments and sweet pleasantries to appease you.

They gave you a tour of the house, the rich wine cellar that was open to you whenever you wanted a drink, the wooden patio that had it’s own lounge and bar, and the various rooms in the mansion-like chalet. They all vied for your attention, ripping one another’s throat to have a second of your attention, kissing up to you with sweet compliments and even sweeter praises.

The Brits - well, three English and one Scott - were a good mix of mature and zealousness, low voices and near-overwhelming figures with their broad shoulders and stocky mass. They came with other people to represent their company: Farah and her devoted Alex from ULF, and the crude Nikolai and Krueger from Chimera.

The Shadows were American, the most American you’ve ever seen, energetic and determined to win you over, and the CEO, a man with a southern accent and a seductive smirk, swiping you off your feet with pet names that made you fluster.

KorTac had as many accents as they had people of different countries, both men and women skilled in multiple languages and conversing so fluently that you started to question if you were on the same planet.

Konni was rough on the edges, their leading figure as scheming as he was gentlemanly, his thin lips letting out the most vicious praises to have you squirming under his dark gaze and unmoving determination for the win.

Days later, you met them at the compound farther down the road, away from the beauty of the coast and cliff, a long table exposing their finest to you. Poured in a cups, one with ice and another without, they were left for you to decide which would win the prize for both straight and on the rocks. Today was the day you would nominate one as the best, standing higher than everyone else without bias despite the times they rendered you a flustered mess and made you unendingly grateful for their help.

Your pallet exploded with flavour every time you sipped on a different brand, eyes rolling to the back of your head with the deliciousness of every bottle. 141 brought three bottles of their aged whiskey: a smoky Scotch Whisky made in the same Highlands you were tasting it, the bitter spiciness of rye whiskey from the American branch of the ULF - credits to Alex for introducing it - and the woody and fruity aroma of Chimera’s whiskey. Shadows had brought - unsurprisingly - their most popular types of whiskey to the table: Bourbon made in their own distillery in Kentucky, a sweet and mellow sub-type of their first one and the smooth flavour of their wheat whiskey. KorTac had a large variety to it’s collection: a floral tasting whiskey that outmatched Hibiki Harmony, a nutty sensation of a bottle made in Ireland and the rich and peaty on of a danish-made bottle. And finally, three Russian bottles from the biggest distillery in Russia: a sweet and smoky bottle, a second one with rich malt and honey, and a third focusing on aroma with it’s spicy odour and fruity taste.

They were all so delicious, if you had these bottles when you working at the bar, mixing concoctions for paying clients, you would’ve been overjoyed, but those days were long gone, your priority standing elsewhere than fulfilling your dream. Truthfully, you didn’t know who to give the medal, the flavours so vast and unique. Perhaps they wouldn’t mind if you took a second or third sip just to be sure.

Part 2

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #konig mw2 #soap mw2 #gaz mw2 #price mw2 #nikolai mw2 #farah karim #alex keller #horangi #kortac #specgru #konni group #shadow company #phillip graves #sebastian krueger #mw3 makarov #Distillery AU #Distillery cod

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

Good morning, as promised, my first of two Gaming requests. Please kindly consider this Gaming fluff request: Gaming with a childhood best friend Reader whose mother used to be a dim sum chef at Liuli Pavilion. Growing up, Gaming becomes Reader's test-taster for their creative dishes (much like Xiangling but nothing too over-the-top). So, imagine both Gaming's and Reader's surprise when both Gaming's and Reader's father announce their betrothal on Gaming's tenth birthday.

Please also kindly take as long as you need with this request; I have no qualms in waiting. Furthermore, by no means feel obligated to prioritize this request over your other requests.

If you're lost you can look and find me- Gaminx Gn!reader

Time after time T/w- Old memories summary- AS shown above

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The sun burned brightly in the sky and the smell of dim sums filled the air. You were cooking away humming lyrics while you gracefully moved around like in a dance. Gaming was sitting at a table near you thinking back to the memories of when they were younger. You had been married to each other for about 3 years now and the love had only grown stronger. He was remembering the day your parents told you, you would get married to get other, you were both only 10 at the time.

“Why would I marry him? Ew.” You pulled a face at your mum, you just wanted to help her cook and now you had to get married when you were 18?

Gaming on the other hand had taken the news quite well. He may have been young but It didn't take a genius to figure out he had more than just platonic feelings from y/n.

“Dad? Why do we have to get married?” He said trying to match your tone.

“Well, it's good for both the families Gaming.”

He felt himself smile at you, seeing how cute you looked with your face all squished in concentration. “Hey, can you come try this?”

Gaming snapped out of his trance and walked over to you, and wrapped his arms around your waist. You handed him a new flavour of dim sum and he took it gratefully. His eyes widened as he remembered the flavour.

“Hey Gaming can you come try this.” Gaming’s mum called out.

The small boy bounced around the corner bursting with excitement. He was always so excited to try what she had made.

“It's very yummy mum!” Gaming's bright smile couldn’t be contained.

“I think your mum gave me that recipe.”

“It tastes exactly like hers. It's beautiful.” Tears almost started welling up in his eyes. These dumplings were one of the last things Gaming had left of her.

You saw the tears forming in his eyes and offered to make more if he wanted them. He just nodded at you with the puppy dog eyes.

“Gaming Gaming! Look what I made!” You came running out of the kitchen holding a plate of… sad… looking dim sums.

He tried not to grimace at the sight of them, He still wanted to make you happy so he slowly reached out and grabbed one. The dim sum was almost at his mouth. It touched his lips. Then went into his mouth,

He was very surprised that they tasted good, by the way they were presented.

“They’re amazing y/n!” He smiled the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

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@kpopmenace143

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #gn reader #fluff #gaming genshin #man chai #genshin gaming #genshin impact gaming #ga ming #gaming genshin impact #gaming x reader #gaming x gn!reader

[cupcakedex]

Spinarak Swiss roll cake! 🕸️ I hand-piped the Spinarak design on our Twitch livestream with dyed cake batter before adding the black cocoa batter and baking! We brought in the Lavender Town vibes with a delicious lavender-infused buttercream, and a row of tart blueberries at the very centre. 💜 This flavour combination is UNREAL! If you have culinary lavender, pulverize it with some sugar and just add it to things! If your tasters complain it tastes like soap, just claim it was a trick instead of a treat 🧼

#halloween #pokemon halloween #spinarak #lpokemon cake #log cake #swiss roll #bug pokemon #pokemon food #pokemon art #gen 2 #original content

[angellayercake]

Banchetto: Antipasto

Papa Emeritus III x Reader 

AO3 |  Aperitivo

The tomatoes should be small diced and even. In a dish so simple every detail must be perfect lest they disrupt the whole. The juicy seeds are scooped out and left to one side leaving you the ripe flesh to work with.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Whatever it was about the recipes from the book they had done the trick. He was finally eating and you could relax slightly. Although it was clear to you that whoever had translated it had not been an experienced cook. The descriptions were sometimes clunky, other times made little sense at all. With your lack of Italian and the mysterious translator's lack of cooking knowledge it was clear that some things had been lost in translation. But, since the day he had left the notebook out for you he had refused to discuss it.

You flick through the pages most days making notes of recipes to try, ingredients you need to acquire and passages that need further research. The thought of showing the notebook to anyone else made you uncomfortable but the odd instruction? That didn’t seem so much of a breach of trust. For now though you stuck to the simpler recipes. There had been less to translate and any errors you had found were easily corrected with your cooking knowledge.

The thought of being Papa’s personal cook hadn’t really excited you when you first found out, especially with how difficult he was during the first few weeks. You enjoyed cooking for the whole Abbey. It was a challenge for you cooking in such large batches and still maintaining the flavour and standard you expected of yourself. Cooking for one man hadn’t seemed like much of a stretch even if it was Papa Emeritus III. But now as you tried to settle on your choice of the day you could acknowledge how much fun you were having learning about authentic Italian cooking.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Leaves plucked carefully from the stem and piled in the centre of the wooden bowl. Your fingers come away fragrant, with a faint tinge of green you notice as you rock the curved blade back and forth slicing through the delicate leaves. There is nothing like the aroma of freshly cut herbs you think as you add them to the tomato. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘Wine?’ He gestures the bottle towards you after pouring his own. 

‘I’m working Papa. No thank you.’ You continued stirring the pot in front of you, turning down the heat fractionally. He had taken to sitting in the small kitchen space as you prepare his evening meal. He rarely spoke much but had the occasional question about something you were doing. Dipping your spoon in the sauce you blow across it to lower the temperature before giving it a taste. You allow the small mouthful to roll over your tongue giving yourself time to identify the flavours. Taking a pinch of salt you sprinkle it across the surface as you continue to mix. You reach for your tasting spoon, cleaning it quickly before taking another taster. 

‘Why are you doing this? Hungry already, are you?’ You take your time finishing your taste test happy that the flavours were now balanced. He is watching you inquisitively and you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are at his lack of understanding given the life he has led.  

‘I’m making sure the seasoning is as it should be.’ He tilted his head as though he still didn’t quite understand. ‘I am tasting, not eating Papa. To see if anything needs adding to improve the flavour.’ He nods as you finish speaking.

‘So you say Sorella, that you must taste it as you go along so you know when something is ready. You must monitor the flavour as it develops so you know if you must add this or that.’ He gestured to the rack of seasonings you had placed next to the oven. 

‘The good thing about seasoning is you can adjust it as you go up until the very end of cooking, but how would you know if you didn’t taste it?’ You smile at him over your shoulder as you continue to stir.

‘Si I understand. But that only works if you have not done enough, no? What if you were to add too much?’ It is no surprise to you that this is his next question. You had asked something similar when you had been completing your training. You were enjoying sharing your knowledge with him. ‘Surely the dish would be ruined?’

‘Well that depends. If you know what you did to ruin it you can add something to counteract.’ Turning down the heat for the last few minutes you are able to give him your full attention. 

‘Adding more, this would not just make the situation worse eh?’ You smile and shake your head. Aside from burning a dish there was not much you could do to ruin a simple dish entirely.  

‘That’s why you must understand how to balance flavours before you try anything like this. For example if I added too much salt to this dish I could add some lemon juice to neutralise it or if I added too much spice adding some oil will help temper the heat.’ He didn’t respond further so you returned your attention back to the task at hand although you couldn’t help but glance at him every now and then. He was lost in his thoughts, brow furrowed as he absent mindedly swirled his wine around the glass. Every time you look over at him he holds your gaze for longer and longer until you can’t bring yourself to look away. He is not the man you thought he would be, that's for sure. Now he had gotten used to your presence he was quiet and thoughtful. Much more introspective than many would give him credit for. 

He visibly snaps back to the present and you quickly turn back to your cooking. The thought of him catching you staring has a blush spreading across your face. He moves in the corner of your vision, setting down the glass and running his hands through his hair, his agitation confusing you. He stands and moves closer, placing his hand on your arm and squeezing to get your attention, as if he didn’t have it anyway. You don’t understand the frustration in his face or what about your conversation had inspired that feeling. 

‘But how do you know Sorella? How can you tell what must be added, what must be taken away, and by how much?’ He flusters you with his questions. The thought that your conversation is no longer about food grows in the back of your mind as you look into his eyes.

‘Intuition, I suppose, practice, experience.’ Your answer only seems to increase his frustration so you continue. ‘Your personal taste also plays a part.’ His hand drops from your arm but he looks at you a moment longer before returning to his seat. The conversation is over and you can’t shake the feeling that you said something wrong. Removing the dish from the heat you quickly serve up a generous portion for him and place it before him at the table. You clean up quickly wanting to get away from the awkward atmosphere as soon as you can. As you are about to leave he calls to you.

‘This is very good Sorella, grazie,’ along with a tired smile. You take it for the apology you think it might be and give him a smile in return. 

‘Good night Papa.’

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The smell hits first as you pull the foil package from the oven, opening it slightly to let it cool as you prepare the bread. Cutting through the loaf diagonally for the best slice. Thick enough to carry their intended load but thin enough to ensure they toast evenly. You brush them with oil watching it drip into the airy dough before returning the tray to the oven. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The bread, cheese and seasoning could already be found in the now well stocked kitchen but the fresh ingredients required a trip to the Abbey gardens and so to see Primo. You were apprehensive. He would have questions naturally but you had been doing your best to keep Terzo’s confidence. The longer you spent with him the more you realised he was quite resentful of his brothers interference in his life. A veiled comment here and there. A roll of the eyes when you mentioned speaking with them but at least he wasn’t taking it out on you any more.

The walk through the ornate moon garden and past the fountain gave you some time to prepare yourself. The fragrant white blooms waved softly in the breeze as you walked. You had always thought this part of the garden bland especially when compared to the riot of colour and chaos that was the kitchen garden. That was until you had been passing through one evening on your way back to your quarters. More often you walked the long way from the Papal suites, through the winding halls but one balmy night you had thought to cut across the gardens to shorten your journey. Instead you found yourself sitting mesmerised as the white blooms seemed to glow in the moonlight. Now you take every opportunity you can to wander through the flower beds, the soft sound of the fountain and singing birds your soundtrack and the floating bees and butterflies your companions. 

Today though you do not have time to linger so you spare only a quick glance before heading to the green houses. You slide open the door to let yourself in, feeling the humid heat wash over you as you close it again behind you. The sweet smell of ripening produce melded with the earthy scent of the damp soil filling your senses as you look around for Primo. You spot his dark robes through the greenery and make your way to the potting tables set up in the centre. 

‘’Buon pemeriggio Sorella,’ he called as you moved into his line of vision. ‘And what can I help you with today?’ 

‘Only tomatoes today Papa, and some fresh basil as well.’ You had known Primo for longer than either of the other Papa’s, your work in the kitchen had brought you together very shortly after you had arrived at the Abbey.  

‘Ah both staples in all good Italian cooking si. Is he still having you make all the classics for him?’ He gestures you towards the vines at the far end. ‘Come, come we will find the best that I have for my fratellino.’

‘Thank you Papa. Those meals do seem to be what he prefers, but I don’t mind.’ It felt that you were the only one not surprised that Terzo might prefer food from his home country given the reaction of everyone but you were genuinely enjoying his preference so far. ‘I hadn’t had the opportunity to learn many Italian recipes before this so it is an excellent opportunity.’

‘Si Sorella I am sure. And how is my brother? Is he behaving himself?’ You wonder what he means by behaving himself. Surely he knows that Terzo had been eating normally for some time now.  ‘I fear he has not forgiven me for siding with Secondo. More often I used to be the neutral party between them.’ 

You take your time before answering him, slightly surprised at his candour. You had always got the impression that the brothers kept their familial relationship private from the majority of the congregation. ‘He is fine I think Papa. I don’t see much of him except at mealtimes but he seems well.’ He fixes you with a look you can’t quite decipher. 

‘I think you have seen him enough to know him better than most.’ Hesitation fills you with his statement. You know exactly what he means and yet you don’t really want to let on.

‘I just make him food Papa,’ is your simple reply. You are just doing the job that has been asked of you. 

‘The mistake people often make with my fratellino is to take him at face value. He does it very well, his show. He has done, since he was a child but it is a mistake to think he is only this.’ You nod slowly. That was something you had noticed. The man you had got to know so far was different from the man you had seen at rituals and at mass but that was not entirely unexpected. 

‘You know him best I’m sure.’ You keep your attention on the tomatoes searching through the vines for the brightest red you can find.  

‘Si, si. I know him, Secondo knows him but many others, I think they only know Papa Emeritus III. Many will need to find out who Terzo is now. Maybe even including him.’ You aren’t entirely sure how to respond. This was not how you were expecting this conversation to play out but you try to bring your mind back to the matter at hand. 

‘I think I have enough tomatoes now Papa. I just need some basil and then I will be out of your way.’ You add what you have collected to his basket before winding your way back out of the vines. 

‘Oh Sorella you are not in my way. I appreciate any visitors that find their way here.’ He hands you the basket of tomatoes and motions you to follow him out of the greenhouse towards the herb garden collecting a pair of secateurs as you pass the potting table. Instead of trimming from the larger plant though he picks up a smaller plant still in its own pot. 

‘This one,’ he starts turning back towards you and offering you the plant to hold. ‘It was broken from the main during the last storm. But you see when something breaks if you allow it to grow roots and nurture it, it becomes a whole new plant.' He cuts away at the leaves all the way down to the stem starting from the base and working up the plant methodically. 

‘That’s enough now Papa you can stop,’ you say but he continues cutting until there isn’t a leaf left on the poor plant, just little stumps protruding from the bare stem. ‘What will happen to it now that there are no leaves?’ 

‘If it is strong it will grow back even bigger and better than before Sorella. And I am sure it is strong to have survived all that it has already.’ He fixes you with one last confusing look before adding the cuttings to your basket. ‘Give my greetings to my fratellino, and tell him to come and see me when he has finished sulking.’ 

‘Of course Papa.’ You nod your head in farewell and take your leave. You had thought you would be subtly integrated about Terzo, not given some kind of plant based philosophy lesson. You sigh to yourself checking the time as you make your way back through the gardens. There is no time to dwell on cryptic metaphors. You need to get back and start your preparation otherwise his food will not be ready on time. And that was what you had been asked to do, just make him food.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It is a pleasant surprise that the recipe had suggested roasted garlic but it made such sense by smoothing out the pungent flavour and adding some depth. Before mixing you generously splash it with olive oil and balsamic vinegar and season with freshly ground salt and pepper. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

For once he wasn’t loitering in the kitchen as you cooked so as you came close to finishing you decided to fetch him. Bruschetta was best served fresh. You wandered through the rooms in an effort to find him but it wasn’t until you reached the door to his bedroom, left slightly ajar, that you knew you had located him. Reaching forward to knock your actions are halted when you hear a choked off moan. 

Your eyes find him straight away through the gap in the door, sitting on his bed with his back to you. Which would be fine if he wasn’t sitting opposite a mirror which gave you the perfect view of exactly what he was doing and you have to hold back a gasp as soon as it registers. The first thing you notice is his hand wrapped around his cock. How could you not? His stroke is slow and teasing and you can see the pink head disappearing and reappearing from his fist. You shouldn’t be seeing this and you certainly shouldn’t still be watching but you can’t move. Realising how long you have been staring you quickly glance up at his face and let out a sigh of relief that his eyes were closed. His face was slack with pleasure, an expression you could recognise from when he especially enjoyed the food you had made for him. That knowledge sent a spark of unexpected heat through you and you have to look away.

But you can’t drag your eyes from him completely. The next thing you notice is his other fist clenched to hold the hem of his shirt out of the way of his ministrations. You can’t see much but what you can makes your mouth dry. His stomach was tense twitching as he pleasured himself but that didn’t disguise the softness that had grown in the time you had been working for him. Right there only just visible was the evidence of your hard work and you could not have predicted the reaction it would have inspired within you.   

A loud low moan finally brings you back to your senses. You have to go, this isn’t right. Dragging your eyes away you turn as quietly as you can leaning against the wall a moment as you catch your breath. Pulling yourself together you carefully make your way back to the kitchen pleased that you weren’t caught in such a compromising situation. What you didn’t know at the time was if you had let your eyes drift to his face one last time before turning away you would have met his burning mismatched gaze where it was fixed on you in the mirror. Watching you, watch him. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Now toasted you grate the parmesan directly onto the bread and give them a minute more in the heat to begin to melt and crisp. You spoon the well mixed tomato and basil onto each slice piling it generously until you have one spoonful left. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It takes a lot longer for parmesan to melt than you had thought. You stare at it intently attempting to stop your mind from wandering to what was happening just down the hall. Don’t think about what he was doing. Don’t think about how he sounded. And certainly don’t think about how he looked, so different from the last time you had seen his body. Gone was the concave stomach and the visible ribs. You had noticed it somewhat in his face, the shadows receding under his cheeks and around his eyes. But that didn’t prepare you for seeing how his stomach had filled out. If you hadn’t seen him before it would have barely given you pause, but knowing that you had done that. Your cooking and your care had changed him, that affected you as much as watching him pleasure himself had. 

The shrill beep of the timer pulls you back to reality abruptly and you reach for the toast quickly so as not to let them burn. Only when the tray is securely placed on the trivet do you allow your mind to wander again. The guilt was starting to overwhelm you now. You should have left as soon as you realised what he was doing, not stood and watched like a pervert but you had been glued to the spot. Reaching for the bowl you let the image of him fill your mind once more as you spoon generous heaps of the mixture on to the fresh toast. So lost in thought you are as you carelessly eat the last spoonful, oblivious to anything else going on around you.

‘Caught you Sorella,’ he whispers so close you feel his breath against your ear. No he can’t have. You choke, coughing and spluttering and he laughs as he pats your back, helping you clear your clogged airway. You gasp in air as soon as you can and force yourself to look at him. He is smiling, why would he be smiling at you after catching you watching him in such a personal moment? You wipe away the tears that had gathered at the corner of your eyes as you concentrate on regulating your breathing. 

‘That was eating and not tasting I think.’ A hysterical laugh bubbles up in your chest, relief washing over you. He was talking about you eating, not about you watching him jerk off. He laughed along with his hand resting on your shoulder and you were torn between leaning into it and pulling away. You were already attracted to him and everything that had happened this evening just compounded to make it worse. This was not what you were here for and you needed to pull it together. 

‘Yes Papa, you caught me this time,’ you offer with a weak smile before adding two slices of the bruschetta to a plate and handing it to him and creating a buffer between you. He accepts it with a grin, not even moving before taking a bite. His eyes close and he lets out a now familiar moan at the taste. He adds another couple of slices to his plate giving you a wink that makes your pulse race and your knees weak and then he is gone. 

Thank you @ghostchems and @namelessdrool for all your help!!! And @running-ace21 for the original prompt :)

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #terzo #papa emeritus iii #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfiction #my writing #banchetto

[ninjakk]

Very excited to be part of the 2023 edition of @mxtxfoodzine, which is packed full of fanfic, gorgeous art and yummy recipes for you all to try at home. Out the 31st of October!

I could not resist combining my love of cooking, writing and MDZS 🥰 So much so, I ended up with two fanfics instead of one haha.

I can't wait to see what you guys think! I have a canon universe, burial mounds settlement fic - which I absolutely adored trying my hand at writing WQ for the first time. There's also a modern au, established Wangxian, fluffy adoption fic - which is something I'm very proud of as well ❤️

Here's a little taster for you all!

In A Pickle - with tasty pickled radish recipe and cute chibi artwork by @daynight139

"What are those?" Wen Yuan's tiny voice whispered in wonder.

"Chillies. They are really hot, so don't touch them, otherwise they will burn you and make you cry," Wen Qing cautioned the child, shooting him a sharp look of warning as she spoke.

Perplexed, Wen Yuan glared at the chillies, quietly wondering why they would want to burn him and make him cry personally.

And my second fic...

Bun In The Oven - with a recipe offering two tasty baked bao fillings and adorable artwork by @daynight139 which is full of hidden things for you to spot!

Lifting the two trays of golden baked bao out of the oven, he turned to place them onto cooling racks.

"Congratulations Lan Zhan, we're now the proud parents of an abundance of little ones!" Back to his usual chirpy self, he sent his husband another cheeky wink as he held a bun up towards him. "Shall we have a whole brood too, er-gege?" he giggled as he placed the last bun down to cool.

"Hmm... Let us start with one, for now." Lan Zhan's low voice sounded by his ear as two strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him in close.

I really hope anyone who reads my two new fics enjoys them as much as I relished writing them 💞

In the meantime, you can download the 2022 edition of the zine to get a flavour of what's to come.

Yes, I'm aware I have a thing about puns... I can only apologise 🤣

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mxtxfoodzine #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanart #tasty recipes #i can't wait to see the final zine! #looks like there is lots of beautiful art and tasty recipes from the snippets I've seen!

[henrycavilledits]

henrycavill The time has come to reveal what we have been busy cultivating for your fine taste buds! Said fine taste buds will have an opportunity to indulge in 3 different flavours in our Limited Edition Taster Packs. [...] To get some early access to the Limited Edition Taster Packs, follow the link I've put in my bio.

To your Health! #No1EarlyAccess #DrinkToYourHealth @no1botanicals

#henry cavill #hcavilledit #cavilledits #no.1 botanicals #no1 botanicals #advertising #instagram #edit

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Alexis Mac Allister words: 727 request: Alexis Mac Allister - no pref - 250 - 500 - Hi Amy! Could I request going to a Christmas market with Lexi? Maybe she’s shocked that he’s never been to one even though he’s been in England a few years now and decides she must change that immediately! And he’s just all cute wondering around and looking at all the things and being amazed by it all. Thank you!

“I still can’t believe that you’ve never been to a Christmas market.” she says excitedly as she continues to navigate him through the crowd. 

“I just…never had the time or need to go, I guess.” Alexis replies, before taking a drink.

Stalls are as far as the eye can see with as many bodies crammed into this space as possible, making it feel like there's a football match present. Thankfully, no-one has noticed Alexis while the two of them have been walking around but there is still time for this to change. They both have a hot drink and a warm pretzel in their hands for now, though it’s not the first belly filler that they’ve sampled. Lexi had wanted to eat before heading out, something which she’d laughed off and assured him that he wouldn’t want to eat first. 

“You really have no idea what it’s like there, do you? Trust me, you’re going to want to sample everything when you get there.”

Armed with cash and cards, they’d set out by following their noses. Full roasted hogs are splayed out for the taking, large Bratwursts are smothered in onions and sauces and chestnuts are being roasted. Some stalls have endless beer and mulled cider and wine while others have endless cups of hot chocolate with lashings of cream and selections of flavouring syrups. 

Some stalls are offering Christmas treats like gingerbread cakes, gingerbread houses and people, nutella twist wreaths, and panettone is begging to be boxed up and taken home to be devoured. Tubs of brandy butter and cream are laid out with small pots for tasters. Poinsettias are freshly potted and wrapped up in big red bows, showing off their beautiful bright red leaves. 

Other stalls boast stocking fillers or small gifts. Some are wooden, others are handcrafted. There are candles and wax melts which smell absolutely divine and a small fortune may have been parted with as Alexis had looked at a different stall, in order to slip more than a few into her bag with the intention of melting a few tonight. 

She takes another bite of her pretzel and savours the warm, fluffy cinnamon sugary goodness that melts over her tongue, only for it to be washed down by some drink as soon as she’s swallowed the first mouthful. As she swallows, she looks up at her boyfriend who can’t seem to make up his mind where he wants to look next. So far, he’s behaved like a kid, excitedly pulling away from his parent figure to look at every stall and point to things far bigger than him such as inflatable winter decorations.

“Well,” she begins, “despite not having a need to come here, how are you finding your first Christmas market?” She wants to turn to look at him, walk backwards and face him while continuing to eat but she doesn’t want to risk walking into anyone and making a scene. And so she has to make do with looking up at him from beside him as she tries to keep up with his strides. 

“I’m enjoying it. More than I thought I would,” he says and finishes up his snack quickly and discards the napkin in the nearest trash can. He doesn’t immediately turn back to her, and instead, finds himself immersed in the stall that the bin is next to. He longs to pick them up and look at them properly, but the months of COVID routine has meant that he’s got used to looking with eyes and not with hands unless he wants to buy. 

They’ve already had to go back to the car and leave bags there because they were struggling to carry it all, but seeing his happiness at walking around and just being able to take everything in was making it all worthwhile. 

“Would you come again? Or could I tempt you to a real Christmas market next year, in say…Germany?”

“As opposed to this fake one?” He asks sarcastically and takes a drink of his drink. 

“This one is good when you don’t want to travel, but really, you want to go there.”

“First Winter Wonderland, then this and now Germany? You have big plans, my little one.”

��And you’re going to love it.” She replies, linking her fingers with his and smiles as he lifts their joined hands to his lips.

#Alexis Mac Allister one shot #Alexis Mac Allister imagine #Alexis Mac Allister blurb #Alexis Mac Allister drabble #Alexis Mac Allister fanfic #football imagine #football one shot #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #football blurb #football fanfiction #football fanfic #football drabble

[lemmetreatya]

Hiii! Can I get kento, vanilla, and marzipan please!! 💞

💖 VAL’S VALENTINE EVENT 💖

TA-DA! Your Vanilla flavoured Nanami with Marzipan icing is READY!

He sat down and placed it on the table.

There it was; In all it’s carb glory, the one sandwich he’s been looking forward to for the past twelve minutes on his walk from the bakery to the office. The walk usually took him five, but today, it took longer because he was feeling a bit helpful.

Rather than ignoring the inconveniences, Nanami went out of his way to exorcise two curses today. And Nanami is proud of himself, because for the first time in awhile, he feels good about something he absolutely hated to do.

“Sandwiches looking nice, Ken. Where’d you get it?”

The voice he’d gotten used to, and probably quite fond of, sounded behind him.

Slightly turning his head in your direction, Nanami doesn’t relent from plugging you with the sauce.

“Same place as usual. The bakery two roads down.”

With a sweet smile, you down next to the man at your neighbouring computer. You had your own lunch today — plus one of your favourite drinks from the vending machine on the first floor.

You weren’t going out of your way to eat again, but you guess when Nanami wordlessly offered you the second half of his sandwich, the offer didn’t seem too bad.

“For me? Really?”

The blonde man gives you an unreadable blank look.

“Count it as a taster. If you like it then you know where to get lunch for tomorrow.”

You open your mouth once, but then close it again before sighing out your nose. Shaking your head, you politely decline.

“But that’s way more than just a taster sample.”

“Have it. I insist.”

Seeing the quite stoic face on Nanami’s face, your shoulders sag. The man seemed so adamant — and it’s ever rare that the man offered anything of his. With reluctancy, you take the piece from him.

“Okay…”

You inspect the sandwich in your hand before looking over to Nanami with a determined expression.

“But make sure you let me go get you something from the canteen at least. Half a sandwich is still a lot so I don’t want you getting hangry at me or anything.”

The blonde man blinks twice at you before cracking a small smile — if you could even call it that. Turning back to face his blank computer screen, the blonde picks up the bread.

“Sure.” He says, before taking a bite out of his half of the sandwich

#val’s valentine event #nanami kento #nanami x reader

[sangoqueenkoko]

CHONGYUN

“this is stupid. and kind of fun.”

fluff, platonic

CRYO MASTERLIST | DRABBLE MASTERLIST

.

Drabble prompt: page 1: #13 = “this is stupid. and kind of fun.”

Warnings? Nope! But Chongyun isn’t someone who I use in game a lot! So, I’m sorry that this isn’t long.

Contains a mention of Hu Tao, Venti, Noelle, Diona, Mika, Xingqiu and Chongyun of course!

Inspired by the 4.1 Waterborne Poetry event!

422 words.

Spices and Chongyun do not mix.

Putting these two together can create adverse effects. Apart from when a certain someone concocts something and then puts them together.

You were in Liyue with your good friend Chongyun, as well as Hu Tao, and from Mondstadt, Venti, Noelle, Diona and Mika. Each of you were split into groups to decipher some riddles.

Your group had found a leaf with something written on it. But the current had gotten a hold of it.

So the lot of you started to defend after it until it beached itself on the dirt bank down stream. After reading the description on said leave a few times, you all eventually began to find out what it meant.

Time passed and Diona had brought up the subject of her wanting to create a new drink to ‘destroy the wine industry,’ so she suggested to the others to grab the oddest combination of materials for said drink.

And after she thought for a bit, she decided it would contain slime concentrate and fresh Jueyun Chilis. Which Chongyun was a little nervous around, but you stayed by his side and comforted him.

Those ingredients put together by Diona created something… interesting, for sure.

And who’s better to test it on than Chongyun. He was a little hesitant at first, you understood why.

But after some hesitation and persuasion, he eventually agreed to be the beta taster.

Down the hatch.

“It does have a touch of Jueyun Chili, but it isn’t at all empowering!” Chongyun chimes with literal starts in his eyes and a light blush on his cheeks, “it’s completely different to Xiangling’s cooking, or those drinks Xingqiu makes to mess with me!”

“It’s crisp and refreshing, with just a hint of numbness, and the Jueyun Chili flavour combines with the smooth but not slimy texture of the frog legs to form a heavenly mixture!”

You thought he lost his mind.

“And oh, the Slimes! Can we talk about the Slimes!? Before this, I never knew that they had such a pure and herby taste, like... fresh grass after the rain! The power and purity of nature, distilled into a cup! Amazing! Simply unbelievable!”

Yep.

Diona was upset that it didn’t taste nice. She felt as if it was a curse.

Meanwhile, you had to help Chongyun come from his newfound high, sitting on the cool green grass.

Once he came back to his senses, he sighed and turned to you and said something simple,

“This is stupid. And kind of fun.”

#gender neutral reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact chongyun #chongyun x reader #chongyun fluff

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Drink with me

This is for you, my dear @lordoftherazzles as a heartfelt "Thank you" for all your support of (S)wiped out.

Here is a little update on Bilbo's expansion plans.

I love you! Your friendship means the world to me!!!

Words: 1370

Characters: Thorin x Bilbo

Prompt: Cocktails

Warnings: alcohol consumption, inebriation, sexual innuendo

Thorin was a man on a mission—as he entered the deserted bar after having taken a long, restoring shower in Bilbo's cramped bathroom, he hastily tied his hair up while walking, promptly bumping his elbow into the doorframe.

"If you think that I cannot smell that you've used my shampoo instead of the disgusting, cheap poison you insisted you preferred, you're very much mistaken, Mister," Bilbo chirped teasingly.

Grimacing, Thorin shrugged; he was not about to admit that he liked the way Bilbo's ridiculously expensive shampoo made his wavy hair feel.

Nobody could ever know about that, otherwise, his sister would never let him live such a damnable, petty weakness down.

After all, he had been just fine with his all-in-one soap for most of his adult life—almost, at least.

"Hit me with your best shot," he replied, desperately trying to change the subject. “I mean, cocktail.”

"Maybe you should have a sandwich first?" Bilbo looked at him dubitatively.

A good many select bottles of liquors, juices, syrups, and other ingredients were lined up on the counter of the bar and—as he was nothing if not ambitious when it came to culinary delights—he didn't want to risk Thorin flagging before they had made it through the list of potential brunch cocktails.

"I don't see what's wrong with an honest ale," Thorin said with an innocent gleam in his eyes.

The fact that he utterly adored the creative drinks his beloved had come up with for their movie nights was another well-guarded secret of his.

Knowing with absolute certainty that nothing distracted and challenged Bilbo more than having his plans cavalierly dismissed—even in jest—Thorin wisely played that card rather than having to beg for a drink.

"You'll see, you uncouth, uncivilised, ignorant loudmouth!"

Even as he suppressed a grin, Thorin took his usual spot at the bar—the third stool from the left corner of the counter—and blew a strand of flyaway hair out of his face while waiting for the first part of their experiment.

Bilbo started measuring, pouring, crushing, and swirling fervently.

When Thorin whipped out his notebook though, his head flew up and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What is that?" he asked warily.

"I made a list," Thorin answered with a provocative smirk and tapped his broad index against the open page. "Presentation, fruitiness, acidity, balance, colour, composition, and that je-ne-sais-quoi that would make the drink extraordinary."

Gasping and gaping, Bilbo glared at Thorin who reached over the counter to grab his hand and breathe a devoted kiss onto the back of it.

"I am taking my role as trusted taster of your unparalleled genius very seriously, my darling," he purred, eyeing the half-full glass longingly.

As a matter of principle, Thorin had decided not to follow the making of the cocktail in too much detail so as to not falsify his assessment by building up expectations and random criteria.

Why did half of those drinks have to have names that were in no way related to their flavour profile anyway?

Finally, Bilbo set down a tiny glass in front of Thorin and—holding his gaze testily—he let a small paper umbrella drop into it.

"Ey!" Thorin exclaimed. "If you are stingy with the drinks, at least don't waste a single drop with stunts like that!"

Then, reciprocating Bilbo's unrelenting glare, he wrote down in big, bold letters "No cocktail napkin" in the presentation column.

"Mahal's stony balls! Drink and shut up!" Bilbo groaned, flinching a little when he realised that he had started to emulate Thorin's colourful and utterly irreverent way of cursing.

Rolling his eyes in a thinly veiled attempt at pretending to be merely doing his boyfriend a favour, Thorin took a tiny sip.

An obscene moan of delight escaped him—the mere drop of liquid seemed to melt and expand on his tongue, exploding into an oasis of zesty freshness interlaced with accents of mellow sweetness that was devoid of the disheartening stickiness of artificial sweeteners.

"Do I detect a floral note?" he asked eagerly; the question made Bilbo's brows furrow and travel up his forehead in astonishment.

"I've added some of Primula's flower syrup—a secret family formula she won't even share with me," Bilbo confessed, excessively impressed and charmed by the refined palate Thorin had developed in the course of their relationship.

"That is a solid summer drink," Thorin praised, "something for sweltering evenings to sip on while having a discussion with friends."

Bilbo nodded; this was exactly what he had had in mind when designing this specific beverage.

They made their way through several other recipes as the evening progressed and the light faded—Thorin complimented each and every one of them and, once or twice, he even gave Bilbo invaluable and pertinent input on what notes were missing.

"I think," he mumbled now, regretting his decision to refuse the sandwich that had been offered earlier as his vision began to grow ever so slightly blurry at the edges, "this could do with a dash of cinnamon or cardamon to balance out the heaviness of the cream, don't you think?"

Tapping a sugar-coated finger against his lips, Bilbo snatched Thorin's glass from his numb fingers and took a swig himself.

"You...by Yavanna's green grace, you are absolutely right," he cheered and thumbed through his notes to jot down a reminder in the margin.

"I also think," Thorin slurred, "that I deserve free cocktails—for life—in exchange for my help!"

Smiling fondly, Bilbo came around the counter and slung his arm around the strong back of his partner in love, in crime, and in life.

"Forever," he whispered and pressed a loving kiss against that cherished temple behind which so many marvellous ideas had sprung to life. "What would I do without you?"

"Drink alone," Thorin giggled and turned his unfocused, pleading eyes onto his favourite face in the world.

"On that matter, can I have a full drink?"

"I think you've had quite enough," Bilbo mused and, finding himself unable to resist the surge of almost desperate tenderness and love he felt for this man, he gave Thorin another resounding kiss.

Humming happily, Thorin rummaged through his pockets and slammed his car keys on the counter.

"One more," he begged, "one full drink and then, I promise, I shall let you take me to bed and tuck me in!"

Chuckling to himself, Bilbo returned to his workstation, wriggling a warning finger.

"One," he insisted, "and we'll share it. This one is called 'The Heart of the Mountain', and it is dedicated to you, my sweet."

It was only the leaden fatigue weighing down his limbs that kept Thorin from bobbing up and down on his chair like an impatient toddler while Bilbo fussed with his elaborate recipe for a good while.

"Give!" Thorin demanded, making entirely undignified grabby hands at the tall, beautifully decorated glass in Bilbo's hands.

Long forgotten were his misgivings as he let his tongue wipe up a bit of the sugar covering the rim of the oblong drinking vessel—it tasted like blueberry, his favourite, and a beatific smile spread across his face. 

As he took the first deep gulp, the fragrant warmth of spiced rum intermingled with the sharp crispness of something cool and minty inundated his palate and his lids shivered with raw sensual pleasure.

Fire and strength unfolded on his tongue, expanding into a complex flavour profile that spelt out more than just naïve love or hopeful affection.

This was a testament to the true understanding Bilbo had of Thorin's nature and a proof of his own courage.

Many would have quailed to take on such a potentially overpowering mix of strong flavours, but not Bilbo.

He had seen and processed all the seemingly contradictory facets of the man slumping in his chair across the bar and had woven them into something truly delicious.

"How does it taste?" Bilbo asked in a tone that made it very clear that he did not doubt this drink in the least.

"Like love," Thorin replied, "and I am honoured to share this drink with you. What say you, should we take it up and finish it in bed?"

@fellowshipofthefics here we go. This concludes Week 3.

I can't wait for the last week! This was such immense fun!!!

#og post #fotfics july event #Thilbo #Bagginshield #Thorin x Bilbo #Cocktails #fotfics summer stories #Week 3 #Bilbo #IDNMT writes #Thorin #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[xhanisai]

Impulse

AO3

Pairing - Ladynoir

Prompt - ‘Impulse’

Summary - 

"Sorry...I don't know what came over me..." Ladybug broke the spell with her murmurs, releasing his wrists and readying herself to get off his lap immediately. Her face was suddenly cradled gently by his warm, careful hands, making her meet his gaze again.

This time, a soft smile rested on his rosy lips, his eyes even softer and the light breeze grazing his blond hair.

"Let yourself go, my Lady. Don't restrain yourself any longer, please,"

~(x)~ . . . Her body reacted before her mind could, pinning her partner down on the soft, luscious grass in the empty field they resided upon on the outskirts of Paris. His shoulders trembled with both surprise and utter delight and her burning fingers twitched around his wrists (their size difference so prominent, evident in the way she couldn't even wrap her whole hand around his wrists). Ladybug's mind went into overdrive, the heroine unsure of what the hell she was doing but at the same time, relishing the euphoria her body felt just by giving in to her raw instincts. Chat Noir watched her curiously without a word, as if he wasn't phased by the love of his life straddling him in a manner that brought all of his wildest dreams and imagination to shame. They continued to stare at one another, stormy blue eyes boring into glimmering emeralds. His faux belt tail sweetly wrapped itself around her torso as she panted, unable to comprehend the feelings and emotions that were bursting out of the seams of her once heavily guarded heart. "Sorry...I don't know what came over me..." Ladybug broke the spell with her murmurs, releasing his wrists and readying herself to get off his lap immediately. Her face was suddenly cradled gently by his warm, careful hands, making her meet his gaze again. This time, a soft smile rested on his rosy lips, his eyes even softer and the light breeze grazing his blond hair. "Let yourself go, my Lady. Don't restrain yourself any longer, please," . So she pounced. And found out for sure that his lips were so, so soft. So much softer than she could have ever imagined or comprehended. That time she had to snatch his lips when he got zapped by Dislocœur didn't allow her to fully savour and note the flavour and feel of his lips, having had to mash their mouths together in a hurry to break him out of the spell before he cataclysmed her mask away and revealed her identity to their enemy. And all those times their lips accidentally brushed from close proximity or whenever one of them had to push the other out of harm's way was barely a taster of the real deal. Sweet, sweet, sweet. She didn't know boys can be so sweet. "Got your fill already?" Chat Noir chuckled against her lips when her kisses transitioned from desperate and hungry to slow and sensual. His hands were tangled up in her hair, her ribbons having been slipped off a long time ago and his grinning lips bruised by her ministrations. But what kept her hypnotised was his eyes. His green, green eyes. Sparkling, glittering, glimmering, just so full of wonder and heat and adoration. For her. "I...I think I may have overdone it," Ladybug admitted sheepishly, pressing her fingers against her too-sensitive lips and wincing when the contact bordered on pain and soreness. Her partner laughed lightly again, sitting up with her still on his lap. He clasped their fingers together lovingly, patiently, observing the way their hands fit so perfectly and then flickering his beautiful eyes back to her with a wonderful smile. And though her lips originally hurt slightly, when he brushed his mouth upon hers once more, all she felt was bliss and warmth. "We're gonna need practice...lots and lots of practice if you want to keep this up," He husked and then proceeded to seal her lips with his own again, capturing her needy heart along with it for good. . . . ~(x)~

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #ladynoir #ml fanfiction #ml fanfics

[vcronicavance]

“I do love that they have these little tasters for the drinks,” Ronnie said as she sipped one, “Flavoured drinks can be so hit or miss. I wouldn’t want to buy it without tasting first. Don’t you agree?” she smiled, “This one’s good,” she pointed.

@matecriveracgden​

#sdhqclosed #starter #convo #mateo #spring festival 27

[littlefreya]

Henry Cavill:

The time has come to reveal what we have been busy cultivating for your fine taste buds! Said fine taste buds will have an opportunity to indulge in 3 different flavours in our Limited Edition Taster Packs.

1. Lemon Verbena Water which some of you may already know and love.

2. Ginger Water which is absolutely delicious and a wonderful representative of the sweetness and the gentle spiciness of Ginger. (Pretty darn good with a number of "stronger" liquids!)

3. And finally, new to the drinks scene but a favourite in the world of herbs...... Ashwagandha Water. This has a mouth-watering Earthy, Smokey flavour with hints of burnt chocolate. Not to be missed!

It's important to note, that all these waters have nothing but the herbal extract and sparkling spring water.... absolutely nothing else. All now available in handy, easy to grab cans!

To get some early access to the Limited Edition Taster Packs, follow the link I've put in my bio.

To your Health!

(x)

#henry cavill #henrycavill #henry cavill instagram

[hot-take-tournament]

I'm a super taster so yeah, I think that chicken is fine plain and that food doesn't need to have other flavours to be good

I also hate the taste of water, coffee and chocolate because they overwhelm me

I can't eat like anything spicy either

I think this might just be the blog for you

#asks #not a poll

[hanayanaa]

rosie claims m&ms of different colours have different flavours. This is an argument she and al get into every halloween.

"YOU WOULDN'T GET IT AL, YOU'RE NOT A SUPER TASTER LIKE ME!"

"You're getting them mixed up with Skittles...it's all chocolate unless you buy the peanut ones or something..."

ame is questioning her grasp on m&m reality.

#happy halloween #i was asleep all day lmao #im eating m&ms rn while thinking of my little guys that's why #al (3) #rosie (4) #amélie (8) #ame (8) #agent 96 #chatssi #agent 3 #agent 4 #agent 8 #captain 3 #HOW DID I FORGET THE AGENT TAGS AGAINNNNN #intelligent words