#Natural Foods Grocery Online

[ayudaorganics]

Best Top-Rated Organic Food Stores in Ahmedabad - Ayuda Organics Ayuda Organics is a premier organic food store in Ahmedabad. With a commitment to quality and sustainability, they offer a wide range of fresh and locally sourced organic produce. Their top-rated store provides customers with nutritious and delicious options, supporting a healthy lifestyle and promoting environmental well-being. Visit Ayuda Organics for a wholesome shopping experience.

[kaadutheforest]

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[kaaduorganics]

Transformation of converting a barren land to a cultivable land:

We bought barren land on Mar 2016,9 acres. We initially planted bananas.  The plant's growth is not as satisfactory as it could be (which is to be expected given that the land has not been farmed for the past 30 years).

Problem Faced:

Many problems were faced while planting, like land leveling- and the choice of suckers. The leaf growth is not straight and the growth is slow.

Reason:

1. No cultivation done in this land for last 30 years,

2. The suckers may not be of good quality.

3. We should have dipped the suckers in the Panchakavya mix for atleast 15 min before planting.

4. More watering which lead to decaying of sucker.

What we use for nature manure?

We only use organic and natural manures, such as Pseudomonas, Trichoderma viride, and Panchakavyam, Jeevamirtham, Fish Amino Acid, etc. We have 40+ fruit trees, 10+ coconut tree variants, 10+ banana tree variations, spice plants, and other timber species Kaadu Organics use a variety of irrigation techniques including flood irrigation, drip irrigation, sprinkler irrigation, rain hose irrigation, and automatically operated movable valves.

Flood and channel irrigation are common irrigation techniques, although they need a lot of labor and water.

Renewable energy sources are used by us:

•        Solar dryer 

•        Solar Submersible Pump

•        Solar Trap

Another Farm is located in the Kodai Hills, in Dindigul district, Tamil Nadu. The farm is spread over 7 acres of land.. 

The farm produces a variety of fruits, vegetables, spices, and herbs, including mountain pepper.

The mountain pepper produced by Kaadu Organics is notable for being grown without the use of any fertilizers.farm uses natural fertilizing techniques to improve the soil, such as composting its own leaves.

Water source: rainwater

Aim: to supply good food to people

[prefrontal-bastard]

I’m not sure if this is permitted in other countries, but here in the US, advertisers are allowed to use any kind of malignant psychology they want in their ads so long as those ads fit within the allotted time-frame.

Back in high school, my class watched a video on how a certain Coca-Cola advertisement was made. You may have seen it, but for those who haven’t: The ad featured a cinematic montage of a crowded beach with smiling thin white people enjoying their leisure time and drinking Coca-Cola out of a common plastic bottle.

The big takeaway from this video was that the ad wasn’t actually advertising Coca-Cola. It was advertising a lifestyle. By associating Coca-Cola with a desirable lifestyle (as well as qualities associated with desirability) it plants the association of “Coca-Cola” with “happiness” in people’s subconscious minds.

This becomes clear when you consider who the ad was meant for. The target audience wasn’t the smiling thin white people that the ad featured, but instead it was people who wanted to be smiling thin white people. This was an ad for the Gen X mom of three kids who worked full-time, who relied on shelf-stable foods to keep everyone fed, and whose nervous system was chronically fried from the stress of never having adequate time for herself.

If she was at the grocery store, and saw the very same bottle of Coca-Cola featured in that ad, she’d be far more likely to pick it up than she was before watching it. If she didn’t anticipate finding relief for her stress, then she could at least drink up the idea of it.

Of course, the thing about ads is that they stop working. Eventually, people’s minds grow wise to the fact buying a certain product doesn’t actually grant them the lifestyle associated with them.

But there’s a lot of other tricks ads employ beyond this.

The reason why Geico is the first company you consider when thinking about buying car insurance is because of the calm, consistent nature of their ads and the fact they’re ubiquitous enough to be familiar. Their mascot forms a kind of parasocial rapport with the audience, so Geico already feels familiar to you by the time you’re looking to buy insurance.

Cereal brands use cartoon-character-like mascots to make their product memorable to kids who can’t read. The reason why so many cereal mascots exhibit such frenetic, possessive behavior is to teach kids to emulate that behavior to compel parents into buying them the cereal, especially if they saw that behavior rewarded in the ad (with the cereal).

You only really see ads for apps on an app-based devices for a reason.

Then there are the ads that don’t look like ads, but look like people on TikTok sharing a new secret product with their audience using the only communication format we regularly trust: word-of-mouth.

And let’s not forget the sheer magnitude of ads that exist. I can’t go outside without seeing them. I can’t watch videos online without exposing myself to ads that wants to skewer my emotions within 10 seconds.

There’s no reprieve from it unless I wall myself off from our culture entirely.

Ads are parasites to both culture and to cognition, and they must be regulated.

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A decorative orange ceramic plate with a pyramid of green herbs and sesame seeds, topped with deep red sumac and more sesame seeds. End ID]

زعتر فلسطيني / Za'tar falastinia (Palestinian spice blend)

Za'tar (زَعْتَر; also transliterated "za'atar," "zaatar" and "zatar") is the name of a family of culinary herbs; it is also the name of a group of spice blends made by mixing these herbs with varying amounts of olive oil, sumac, salt, roasted sesame seeds, and other spices. Palestinian versions of za'tar often include caraway, aniseed, and roasted wheat alongside generous portions of sumac and sesame seeds. The resulting blend is bold, zesty, and aromatic, with a hint of floral sourness from the sumac, and notes of licorice and anise.

Za'tar is considered by Palestinians to have particular national, political, and personal importance, and exists as a symbol of both Israeli oppression and Palestinian home-making and resistance. Its major components, olive oil and wild thyme, are targeted by the settler state in large part due to their importance to ecology, identity, and trade in Palestine—settlers burn and raze Palestinian farmers' olive trees by the thousands each year. A 1977 Israeli law forbade the harvesting of wild herbs within its claimed borders, with violators of the law risking fines and confiscation, injury, and even death from shootings or land mines; in 2006, za'tar was further restricted, such that even its possession in the West Bank was met with confiscation and fines.

Despite the blanket ban on harvesting wild herbs (none of which are endangered), Arabs are the only ones to be charged and fined for the crime. Samir Naamnih calls the ban an attempt to "starve us out," given that foraging is a major source of food for many Palestinians, and that picking and selling herbs is often the sole form of income for impoverished families. Meanwhile, Israeli farmers have domesticated and farmed za'tar on expropriated Palestinian land, selling it (both the herb and the spice mixture) back to Palestinians, and later marketing it abroad as an "Israeli" blend; they thus profit from the ban on wild harvesting of the herb. This farming model, as well as the double standard regarding harvesting, refer back to an idea that Arabs are a primitive people unfit to own the land, because they did not cultivate or develop it as the settlers did (i.e., did not attempt to recreate a European landscape or European models of agriculture); colonizing and settling the land are cast as justified, and even righteous.

The importance of the ban on foraging goes beyond the economic. Raya Ziada, founder of an acroecology nonprofit based in Ramallah, noted in 2019 that "taking away access to [wild herbs] doesn't just debilitate our economy and compromise what we eat. It's symbolic." Za'tar serves variously as a symbol of Palestinians' connection to the land and to nature; of Israeli colonial dispossession and theft; of the Palestinian home ("It’s a sign of a Palestinian home that has za’tar in it"); and of resistance to the colonial regime, as many Palestinians have continued to forage herbs such as za'tar and akkoub in the decades since the 1977 ban. Resistance to oppression will continue as long as there is oppression.

Palestine Action has called for bail fund donations to aid in their storming, occupying, shutting down, and dismantling of factories and offices owned by Israeli arms manufacturer Elbit Systems. Also contact your representatives in the USA, UK, and Canada.

Ingredients:

Za'tar (Origanum syriacum), 250g once dried (about 4 cups packed)

250g (1 2/3 cup) sesame seeds

170g (3/4 cup) Levantine sumac berries, or ground sumac (Rhus coriaria)

100g (1/2 cup) wheat berries (optional)

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 Tbsp aniseed (optional)

1/2 Tbsp caraway seeds (optional)

Levantine wild thyme (also known as Bible hyssop, Syrian oregano, and Lebanese oregano) may be purchased dried online. You may also be able to find some dried at a halal grocery store, where it will be labelled "زعتر" (za'tar) and "thym," "thyme," or "oregano." Check to make sure that what you're buying is just the herb and not the prepared mixture, which is also called "زعتر." Also ensure that what you're buying is not a product of Israel.

If you don't have access to Levantine thyme, Greek or Turkish oregano are good substitutes.

Wheat berries are the wheat kernel that is ground to produce flour. They may be available sold as "wheat berries" at a speciality health foods store. They may be omitted, or replaced with pre-ground whole wheat flour.

Instructions:

1. Harvest wild thyme and remove the stems from the leaves. Wash the leaves in a large bowl of water and pat dry; leave in a single layer in the sun for four days or so, until brittle. Skip this step if using pre-dried herbs.

2. Crumble leaves by rubbing them between the palms of your hands until they are very fine. Pass through a sieve or flour sifter into a large bowl, re-crumbling any leaves that are too coarse to get through.

Crumbling between the hands is an older method. You may also use a blender or food processor to grind the leaves.

3. Mix the sifted thyme with a drizzle of olive oil and work it between your hands until incorporated.

4. Briefly toast sumac berries, caraway seeds, and aniseed in a dry skillet over medium heat, then grind them to a fine powder in a mortar and pestle or a spice mill.

5. Toast sesame seeds in a dry skillet over medium heat, stirring constantly, until deeply golden brown.

6. (Optional) In a dry skillet on medium-low, toast wheat berries, stirring constantly, until they are deeply golden brown. Grind to a fine powder in a spice mill. If using ground flour, toast on low, stirring constantly, until browned.

Some people in the Levant bring their wheat to a local mill to be ground after toasting, as it produces a finer and more consistent texture.

7. Mix all ingredients together and work between your hands to incorporate.

Store za'tar in an airtight jar at room temperature. Mix with olive oil and use as a dipping sauce with bread.

[listentoace]

Everything and everybody wants you to get fatter

Everything you buy at the grocery store is filled with sugar, even in products you don't expect. There are more and more delivery services that can bring you any meal you crave right to your doorstep. Junk food is cheaper than healthy options. There is more and more content to stream online, keeping your mind occupied and your body sedentary. You can work from home, moving less and less. Anywhere you go, there will be a fast food place. Body positivity makes it easier to just be fat. Fat characters in cartoons and movies have become normal and beloved. Gyms keep getting more and more expensive. Whenever you gain a few pounds, people will cheer online and want you to get fatter. You're probably getting off on the thought of getting fatter already. You've turned ruining yourself into a fetish. You don't even want to try and fight it, do you? Stuffing yourself and feeding your addiction is just more pleasurable. Everyday new snacks are being invented to keep you eating. New shows are created to keep your mind empty. More people are sucked into feederism, fetishizing obesity. It'll only get worse, but that'll just make it so much more pleasurable. You might feel fat now, but it'll be nothing compared to what you'll look like in a few years. You'll never be this skinny again. You'll never be able to return to normal. The perception of "fat" keeps shifting. While a hundred years ago, a person with a BMI of 30 would have been considered fat, now they're chubby at best. One third of the population is obese already and those numbers - just like those on your bathroom scale - will only be going up. You can't escape, there is no need to. Fat feels good. Obesity feels good. No more worrying about exercise. No more paying attention to what you eat. So much soft and jiggly mass you carry around with you. Sitting and laying down become so much more comfortable than standing and walking. Your stomach will expand, increasing your capacity for food. You know you love it. You need it. It's natural. It's good. Give in. It's easier. Don't fight. Be consumed. Rest your mind. Rest your body. Stuff yourself. Dumb yourself down. Turn into a blob. Eat. Gain. Grow. It's what's best for you.

[callsign-novara]

Valeria Garza X Reader HC

Hi everyone!I wanted to apologize for such a long hiatus, I promise that the Stalker!Valeria Garza x Reader series will be continued, but for now as an apology, I give you More Valeria Garza x Reader HC.

Content warnings: Violence, Valeria Garza, WLW, NSFW, swearing.

Enjoy <3

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

• Working at a club was a headache most nights, but it kept the money coming and the food on the table. The club smell of booze, cigarettes, and sweat. Nightshade was a higher end club where politicians, mob bosses, and people of authority with high reputations could get drunk without a care in the world.

• You were a bartender, serving up drinks for most of the night. The blaring lights hurt your eyes and the music was loud, you'd have to shout to talk to someone infront of you. Tonight it wad extremely busy. Your finish serving up a customer, a white male, bald, in a luxurious suit. He's been eyeing you all night like a fresh peice of meat. It makes you want to gag. The man keeps calling you over, booze on his breath, he wants you and you can't tell.

• The thought makes you shiver.

• A woman, Hispanic, obviously of a illegal work status based on her tattoos. Cartel? Maybe Mob? Drug or weapons draler? It doesn't matter too much. She sits next to the man at the crowded bar.

• When she sits down, he shuts up. She must be someone important. Or dangerous. Whatever she does her aura holds authority and danger. It's best to stay clear of her. Your coworker could serve her.

• Luck isn't on your side.

• The woman calls for you specifically, you only notice this when your coworker tapes your shoulder. A shudder runs through you but you give her a polite smile, her gaze is Peircing through you. • "Muy bonito." She says to you as you come over, her voice sultry, raspy and deep. It makes your heart flutter. Her voice seems louder than the music, or maybe your going insane. You smile and thank her and take her order. Pouring the hard liquor for her you hand her the drink. "Gracias preciosa" she says and smirks

• You think nothing of this interaction, serving her a few more times that night before she leaves. That was that. She was gone.

• And then she showed up the next day.

• And the next.

• And the next.

• She would always request that you serve her. If any of your other coworkers tried to, she'd glare at them and demand for you. And if you weren't working that night, she'd just leave • You learned her name was Valeria, by all the times she had requested you. And only you. • Fear is the only thing you can feel when you first hear that she wants you. You've obviously caught the attention of someone dangerous and powerful. Nothing good comes of that.

• But as the days pass, she becomes a regular for you, leaving hefty tips and she'd even once made sure that you were only serving her for one night. Renting out a section of the bar and your service were she'd just talk and listen to you as you made her drinks.

• She was oddly nice to you. Well, in a way. She'd teasingly make fun of you if you told her that you messed an order up, she'd say "Oh? Can't get a simple order right, can you? Estúpida"

• She was dangerously attached to you and you knew it.

• Unfortunately, so was she.

• It was strictly a work place thing only, and you'd become accustomed to that. You could even say she was a friend of sorts despite her secretive nature and obvious Mob status. • Until one day you come home to a package. Kinda weird for you, you didn't usually spend money online. Only really using it for necessities like groceries and putting the rest Into savings. • But it was yours, it had your name on it. Shrughing, you take it inside. Maybe you got drunk and impulsively bought something. • Opening the box your brows furrow together. It was soft fluffy blankets. • Ones that you had been eyeing for a while, since your old ones were old and word down.

• There was no return address on the package, or a name on it. The red flags blared in your mind, but you shrugged it off ad a drunk impulse buy. It was just one thing, and hey, it was something you wanted. Or we'll needed. • Except it wasn't a one time thing, because the packages just kept coming. • They werent...menacing. though, you knew you probably should call the police at this point, but the packages weren't harming you, they were actually very sweet gifts. • A new coffee maker, new pillows, new silverware, new bathroom necessities...all things that increased the comfortability of your small apartment. • But you didn't really tell people you needed this stuff. You just eye it or tell your coworkers if they asked what you wanted for a holiday or birthday. So, someone had to be watching you, or just listening to those conversations. • One day, you mentioned the packages to Valeria, who had asked you about how your shift was when you clocked out and walked outside.

• She scared the shit out o you, but she offered to walk you home and you agreed, despite the small thought that maybe you shouldn't. She walked you home, listening to everything you said, commented on somethings until you got back to your apartment. • You said your goodbyes and just as you were about to close the door you heard her say "I'm glad you like my gifts, amor." • Your heart pounded, adrenaline rushed through your veins because you knew she was someone to be feared, someone dangerous with an illegal line of work. • ...but the gifts were so thoughtful and sweet. • Your next shift was..eventful. Valeria was there watching you make drinks, but she hadn't demanded you yet. And she didn't for a good hour. • That's when you took things into your own hands. You made her favorite drink and served it to her with a smile, a small thank you. • She grabbed the drink, and you, and just pulled you into her lap. You looked at your coworker who had a raised brow and laughed at you, but thankfully took over your section too. • As for Valeria, she wouldn't let you go, you sat like a pretty little trophy in her lap, and from that point forward you knew that she would never let you go. You were hers now.

~~~~~

• Valeria would let you continue to work at the bar if you wanted, but she made it very clear that you don't have to lift a fi ger if you don't want to. She's got you. She'll get you whatever you want, a trust me she'll get it quick. • You quickly learned that Valeria always, always, has eyes on you. The bar? At home? Out and about? There were eyes watching you, giving Valeria updates. If she caught you talking to another woman for more than 10 minutes, she would be there. And if she couldn't? Her men were there. • She never let you know what her job was, but with her seemingly endless amount of money, and how she'd sometimes come home smelling of weed, gunpowder and blood, you had a pretty good idea. But you never questioned it. It's best not to know. Even when you got together, the gifts from her never stopped. If she had to go on a 'business trip' she'd come back with some sort of gift for you. • She spoils you rotten. if you don't want gifts then that's too damn bad cause she's going to smother you in them. New earrings? Makeup? A purse? Maybe some clothes? If you glance ar it for more than ten seconds it's basically yours. • Don't get her riled up. If she's had a bad day with her 'clients' and you piss her off someway or another like talking bad about yourself or annoying her, trust that she will make sure you shut up. She'll hold your legs open for hours drinking you up like she's never tasted anything better. She'll eat you out like a pro, don't you worry about her jaw getting sore because she doesn't care. She'll make sure you squirt all over her drenching the bed multiple times until your crying. She'll much you about it too and she fingers you. "Oh, what's wrong, amor? Is it too much? tómalo. That's it baby, you were running g your mouth so much earlier. Now loot at you. Fucked stupid like a slut for mamí" • Once she feels that she's Fucked you stupid and that you've learned your lesson, she'll kiss any bites or marks she left and she'll clean you up. If the sheers are too soaked she'll take them off, if not then it'll be a morning project to change them. • In her arms your safe. Away from the crule world. Away from her work. And if someone dares to touch you, they won't be found. She's a criminal. Dangerous. A scorching fire that will burn you at any moment. She could kill you in an instant. • But she won't. You know she won't. She may be fire, a volcano, burning everything around her to ash, but she'll make that ash into something beautiful for you, her little flower for you to thrive. In her arms the world around you is nonexistent. And that's okay, as long as it's with her.

[bbyquokka]

picture perfect

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut – MDNI

synopsis: you find a way to make more money not realising hyunjin is doing the same

warnings: smut, established relationship, distribution of explicate content (pics) online, sex work (onlyfans), taking videos during explicate moments (everything is consensual), oral sex (m rec), pussy drunk hyunjin, unprotected sex, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cream pie, pet names, word 'girl' is used.

words: 3.3k ~ (3300)

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

desperate calls calls for desperate measures and that's exactly what you have done.

money is tight. you barely have enough to make ends meet. once you have paid rent, electric and water bills, you have just enough for groceries. 

you soon grew tired of struggling. you don't like asking for help because you've been taught that it's a sign of weakness, plus, having to ask people for money isn't necessarily a smooth nor nice thing to ask for.

your boyfriend, hyunjin, is also in the same boat as you. he left his small town to live in the big city thinking nothing of it, until he realised how expensive it is. you both live on the same apartment block, just across the hallway from one another.

a cliché series of events happened that brought you both together. you've spoken to each other for months but it was nothing but a simple “hello” and small talk in the complex elevator. however, on this one faithful (and unlucky) day, did everything change.

one thing happened after another. a series of unfortunate events. your pay check hadn't come through and you needed that considering you were behind on the rent. luckily for you, the landlord is a kind and understanding person so he gave you some time.

after being on the phone for three hours, listening to the same elevator music whilst being on hold, you got no where, which naturally, lead to your frustration. you decided to just get on with your day, shop for groceries so that's at least one thing you don't have to worry about.

that didn't go as planned.

you went over budget. you didn't realise that the cost of living would also affect the price of food. you had so little groceries for such a high price, food that wouldn't last a week and to top it off, paper bags are now the new thing which you don't mind however, they're flimsy and weak.

on your way home, it started to rain. the rain was heavy, bouncing off the pavement and passing vehicles. you're pretty sure you got splashed by a car or two but you couldn't tell considering your jeans were soaked and sticking to your legs with your socks soaking up all the water from the hole in your beaten down trainers.

you got to the revolving doors of the complex. as if on queue, the flimsy paper bag broke resulting in all your groceries falling onto the pavement. you wanted to cry, to curse at the world for having such a bad day but a knight in shining armour came to your rescue.

hyunjin saw what had happened. he saw how soaked you looked, how your t-shirt was see through, jeans darkened in colour as your hair dripped with water. he looked at your sullen and defeated expression and felt sorry for you. he also felt something else for you, but now was not the right time to be having thoughts, especially when you looked so defeated and desperate for help.

he helped you. he gathered up your groceries and helped you to your apartment door, for you to find out that you lost your apartment keys–somehow. all you could do was laugh because if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.

hyunjin was nothing but helpful to you that day. he let you crash at his place, use his shower and dress in his clothing. you slept on the sofa and helped around the apartment for him such as cooking and cleaning, almost like husband and wife–almost.

since then, you two have been together as well as inseparable. you hate to ask for money. you always feel like you always have bad luck and well, it sucks.

you need money and you need it fast. your dead end job barely pays enough. as well as needing the money, you also want money because you want to buy yourself nice things. fund your little hobbies and dress up in nice clothing. buy what you want, when you want and not have to worry or feel guilty when you spend money on luxuries.

you came across an article about how much someone earns in a month just from subscriptions on onlyfans. after some research you learnt that onlyfans is a place for sexual photos and videos with people paying a subscription fee to ‘unlock’ and see the explicit content.

you thought about it, long and hard. for days and days you thought. the more you thought, the more you wanted to do it. if all you had to do was take a few explicit photos of yourself and not have to worry about money for years, then so be it.

what you didn't bank on, was your boyfriend to find out.

“how did you–?” you blink at hyunjin. his phone facing in your direction. your onlyfans profile staring right back at you. the colour drains from your cheeks, heart thumping against your chest.

it was supposed to be a calm and collective movie night. hyunjin wanted company, he phoned you up and you said yes, of course! you went to use the bathroom and within minutes, you came back to the living area to this.

“i knew it was you! i recognise those breasts anywhere!” hyunjin says with a chuckle as he turns his phone back to himself. his thumb swiping up his screen as he checks out your content.

you blink a few times. confusion as well as a million questions swim around in your head. he's not angry at you and that's confusing you.

“you have to send me this one, damn!” hyunjin groans as he shows you your topless mirror selfie. after a few more blinks, you suddenly come back down to earth. realisation hitting you.

“wait. all my content is locked behind a subscription fee.”

“yeah, i know.”

“so you paid to see my photos??” you say as you sit down on the sofa beside him. he hums, shrugging and giving you a nod. “why? how? are you not mad?”

“i was browsing the site and came across your profile, so i paid the fee to see what spicy content you have.” hyunjin smirks. his whole demeanour throwing you off massively. “plus, why would i be mad when i do the same thing.”

“oh i don't kn–wait, what?” hyunjin's cheeks turn a faint pink colour. he looks at you and grins before laughing at your shocked expression.

“i do it too. would be pretty hypocritical of me to be mad at you for doing what i do.”

“wait so, you also take pictures of yourself too?”

“yeah with the occasional video.”

“what type of videos?” hyunjin puts his phone down before leaning back with his legs spread.

“i jerk off. ”

“and people like that?” hyunjin nods. “more than the pics?”

“depends. everyone has different tastes in what they like.”

“why did you start doing this..?”

“why did you?”

“because i needed the money. my dead end job barely pays enough for this overpriced apartment. once everything is paid for, i barely have enough for myself. i just wanted that bit extra.”

“that's the reason why i started too. i underestimated how expensive living in the city is. now i earn enough to the point where, i don't have to do it. i just do it for fun.”

you look away. everything slowly sinking in. so many thoughts and feelings such as relief, washing over you. you feel close to tears. all those hours you spent awake in bed, feeling shackled with fear–worthless.

“hey.” hyunjin speaks softly, his hand coming into contact with your chin to turn it so you're looking at him “are you ok yn?”

“yeah.. yeah! it's just a lot to take in, that's all.” you laugh softly, leaning into his touch.

“was you worried about me finding out?”

“fuck yeah! stuff like this isn't very appreciated by many people. i was scared you'd judge me or worse; hate me.”

“oh baby. i could never hate you. i love you, plus you do whatever you like. i don't care as long as you're safe.”

“thank you.”

“plus, this just means we can start doing things together. if you want to, that is.”

“you mean as in..?” hyunjin licks his lips and smirks as he slowly nods his head. “like what?”

“well, you can suck my cock for starters. i think that'd be a great introduction video.”

“y-you mean, right now?” you bite your bottom lip gently as hyunjin runs his fingers through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. he gathers a bunch of hair and tugs at the roots causing you to hiss.

“yes, right now. be a good girl and put that mouth of yours to good use.” with a single nod and a hum, you shuffle off the sofa and between hyunjin's legs.

you lick your lips at the sight of his already erect penis that's happily forming a tent in his sweat pants. you grab the waistband, hyunjin lifting up his hips as you pull the fabric down his legs.

you squeeze your thighs together as you press the palm of your hand against his bulge, roughly. you begin to palm him, starting off slow and steady before picking up the pace once you feel him twitch.

all the while, hyunjin has grabbed his phone and started to record you. he makes sure not to get your face into the shot. you slowly trace the outline of his penis with your fingernail, before giving a few rough squeezes at the tip.

“let's not keep the people waiting baby. hurry up.” 

you grab the waistband of his boxer shorts, pulling them down his legs to pool alongside with his sweats. his erection springs free, hyunjin making sure he catches it on camera, releasing a satisfactory hum.

you lick your lips hungrily, loving the red blush on his tip and the shimmer of pre-cum that seeps from his slit. you wrap your hand around the base, his girth too thick for your hand to wrap all the way around. 

“look at that. your hand looks so small wrapped around my thick cock.” he hums. you whimper softly at his dirty talk, something you've never experienced from hyunjin before. it's clear he is playing up to the camera, being a bit extra for the sake of the content–but you love it so much and want more.

hyunjin runs his fingers through your hair slowly, his fingertips massaging your scalp. he pushes the back of your head towards him, stopping when you're eye level with his cock. you rub his tip suddenly with the pad of your thumb, fast and harsh–just the way he likes it.

if hyunjin wants to put on a show, then a show he shall get.

his hips suddenly buck upwards at the harsh rubs. your thumb coating in his pre-cum. hyunjin stutters and legs shake, hand quick to release from your hair to grab your wrist to make you stop.

he heavily pants, a thin sheen of sweat resting on his forehead. you look up at him innocently but give him a quick smirk.

“you cheeky girl.” he grunts. you batter your eyelashes at him in a sickly sweet manor. the innocent, sweet expression on your face making hyunjin want to dirty you and mark you as his territory.

“suck.” you shiver at the harshness of his tone. a dominant tone that screams ‘don't mess with me.’ you nod once, parting your lips to allow your tongue to slide out and make contact with the underside of his shaft.

you give it a long, slow lick to the tip, using the tip of your tongue to poke and lick his slit. pre-cum gathers on your tongue as you flatten and swirl it around his tip.

hyunjin hums softly, spreading his legs wider and sinking into the material of the sofa. his head kicks back as his eyes close, his black permed hair falling behind him.

you wrap your lips around him, suckling on his tip whilst swirling your tongue around it a few more times to get it soaked in your saliva. you lazily stroke the base, occasionally rolling and squeezing his balls.

you embrace his length by engulfing it. the warmth and wetness of your mouth sends shivers down to hyunjin's balls and cock, making him twitch in your mouth. you hum around his length which makes hyunjin shiver and part his lips to let out soft moans and grunts.

your eyes flutter shut. you allow yourself to focus and get lost in pleasuring your boyfriend. his breathy pants and moans in the form of your name encourages you. you manage to get half his length, if not a little more, in your mouth but not without gagging a few times and feeling like you cannot breath.

saliva accumulates and drips from the stretched corners of your mouth. it gathers and pools at the base, coating your hand and making it uncomfortable for you. you swallow the saliva, swallowing him in the process. throat clenching around his thick cock causes hyunjin to gasp out loud. 

he looks down at you, phone still being held at a decent length considering the current state he is in. he grabs a fistful of your hair, bundling it up to yank at. you let out a pained whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

wet, sloppy sounds paired with the occasional pop when you release him from you mouth mixes in the living area. hyunjin can't control his moaning. your spit and tear stained face a stark contrast to your usual innocent and clean look.

he just wants to dirty you even more.

“i can never get over how fucking good you are at giving head, yn.” 

you smirk, giving him a simple hum before engulfing his length again. you suck, lick, fondle and hum causing hyunjin to come closer and closer to the edge. his grip on your hair tightening, his balls straining as heat pools to the pit of his stomach.

“fuck, cum. i'm going to cum yn, shit.” hyunjin splutters. his hips buck up suddenly, tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag as his fluids shoot and coat your throat. he heavily pants, body twitching and muscles spasming.

you swallow the best you can, pulling away to lick his tip and your lips clean. 

“shit..” hyunjin pants, stopping the recording and putting his phone down. “that was fucking amazing.”

“seems like you enjoyed it a bit too much hyun.” you smirk, eyes flickering to his still hardened cock.

without a word, hyunjin rises to his feet and picks you up in one swift motion. he walks to the bedroom, opening the door and throwing you on the mattress before stripping himself of his clothing.

“i just want so much more of you yn. you're addictive.”

—

“f-fuck! ah, h-hyun. c-cant, i can't!”

“you can, i know you can!” 

you let out a shaky whimper. bodies slick with sweat and body fluids, hyunjin driving you to your nth orgasm of the night. feeling sticky in cum and juices paired with the suffocating heat of hyunjin's body–it's all becoming a little overwhelming.

your body has been put in various positions. love bites, nail indentations and red marks decorate each others skin. hyunjin is approaching his limit but he's too hungry for you.

the overstimulation of each thrust is too much for you both, but you're both addicted to each other, to the feeling. you desperate cling and claw at hyunjin, whilst he hisses in pain. your cunt is sensitive but so warm and sloppy that hyunjin just doesn't know if he can stop.

“good.. good. so good, fuck yn.” he blabbers as his hips snap against yours. his bottom lip swollen from biting down too much and too hard, his hair slicked back and in place thanks to the sweat from his body.

“please don't stop. keep going, fuck.” you pant. you're both drunk and hazy from lust and love. neither one of you knowing what you're saying. everything is just a daze, it's just you two in the moment.

the bed creaking, sheets tangled and pillows nowhere to be seen. you're both going to have an earful from the neighbours when you see them; not that any of you care.

“your pussy just feels so good. it's so tight and wet. i'm being sucked in and you hold me so well.” 

hyunjin's body is buzzing off adrenaline. he feels like he is being sucked into you, his mind and soul being lost into the abyss. he wants so much more of you, more than you can give. 

hyunjin continues on with his blabbering, his eyes half lidded and glossy. lips parted, chest heaving. his movements show no signs of slowing down as he drives his cock deep inside you multiple times to hit that sweet spot of yours, driving you both closer and closer to the edge.

you babble along with him. hands reaching out from something to cling onto in hopes you come back down to reality–but nothing. with each drive of hyunjin's cock, with each hit of your g-spot, your body tingles and mind numbs over more and more.

the pits of your stomachs on fire, burning and tensing. you look at hyunjin to be met with pleading and desperate eyes. he grips onto your waist, movements now slow, sloppy and desperate. 

“i want.. i need to–” his own sentence interpreted as his orgasm suddenly hits him. you clench around him as he empties himself inside you, filling you up some more to the point where you leak out onto the sheets.

your own orgasm hits you, knocking the air out off your lungs and making you arch you back off the bed. you both heavily pant as hyunjin slowly pulls out off you. you shiver at the feeling of cum and juices seeping out of you.

hyunjin looks at it sheepishly, feeling somewhat guilty. he knows he lost his senses during the process, he got drunk of you.

“sorry..”

“don't be. you know i love it when you're like that.” your body heavy with exhaustion. without a word, hyunjin rushes to the bathroom and grabs a wet flannel. he gently cleans you up, being delicate around your delicate areas as well as any sores, bruises or marks that may seem or look painful on your body.

“how long do you think you will do the onlyfans thing?” hyunjin asks before resting next to you. you think for a second, shrugging before looking at him.

“i don't know. until i get bored and feel like i have enough money, i guess. and you?”

“same. would you want to do it with more people?”

“what? like a threesome?” you smirk.

“yeah.”

“mhm, maybe. depends on who it is though. would have to be a close friend of ours. think it's safer than having a stranger.”

“that's true. plus i'd feel at ease if it was a close friend.”

“i have one question though, baby.” you sit up slowly, hyunjin following suit to help you.

“what is it?”

“would you want it to be man or woman?”

“mhm.. i don't really care if i'm honest babe.”

“same. i'm down for whatever, however, would you be able to manage seeing another person going down on me?”

“when you put it that way, i don't think i would. i think i'd get too jealous.”

“yeah, me too. seeing another person suck on your cock just fuels me with jealousy.” hyunjin let's out a small laugh, kissing your cheeks tenderly.

“maybe threesomes are not for us then, darling.”

“maybe not. let's just stick to posting on onlyfans for a while.”

note: this wasn't my original idea for hyunjin. i wanted to bring back an old fic from the dead but no matter how many scenarios, how many times i deleted and started over, it just didnt/wouldn't work. so i accepted that it wasn't going to work instead of stressing myself over it and created this mess instead, lmao. don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @oshimee ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[cosmicstarlatte]

Devil-Mart ⭐ (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You got hired at mega retailer, Devil-Mart⭐. Naturally, the guys "suddenly" need a job too and start working alongside you.

»Characters: Demon Bros + Bonus Dia and Barb

»Tags: Humor, Bulleted Style fic, Gender Neutral Reader/MC

»Notes: How about shopping with them?-> [Devil-Mart: Shopping]

Lucifer:

"...Mammon put us in debt this month."

Was worried you'd be bullied (or eaten) surrounded by demons/other monsters

Is that coworker who acts like a boss

Actually does make it to management within the first week

The customer isn't always right. He's the manager to call for rude customers

Actually likes stocking, finds neat aisles soothing

The home improvement dept is his favorite

Frequently makes sure you take all your breaks

Doubles as store security if needed

Mammon:

"I just needed extra cash alright?"

Was worried you'd fall for some other demon

Failed in all departments except online orders (he's very fast!)

Bags for orders would occasionally go missing

Took extra long breaks but Lucifer caught on and wrote him up

Would try to frequently visit you in your department

Started fights with other workers who were busier staring at you than their work

"They're not meat, beat it!"

Got fired for trying to steal electronics

Levi:

"Theres a lot of new merch releases coming up soon!"

Didn't want to be the only one left out so he applied...plus you won't see him anymore!

Electronics department ONLY

You won't find him cross trained anywhere else, he refuses

Is actually really good with upselling

Can be aggressive if you don't go with his recommendations

Has received a few complaints for that reason

Tries to match his breaks with you since that's the only time he really gets to see you

Was the one who tattled on Mammon

Satan:

"This is for research."

A lie he almost believes but knows he just wants to be near you

Works the same department as you so you see each other all day

Never put him on registers or customer service

Almost got into a fight on the first day

Retail is rough for him but he does it for you

Complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Asmo:

"Ugh...a job!? I'm gonna cry. Oh but my fans would love if I relate to them! And your job will be fun with me there!"

Upfront about his reason lol

Refused to do anything except customer service

Just stands back and talks to customers while the coworker alongside him completes any transactions

Makes DevilToks on the clock

Frequently leaves his spot to talk to you and Satan

Gets all the work gossip

Lucifer never catches on

"You know, this isn't so bad! I'm such a good worker right!?"

Gets employee of the month

Beel:

"I don't like the thought of you surrounded by demons alone. This isn't RAD."

Aalajffkslsjda the cutest honest protector

Is cross trained everywhere but

Never put him near grocery ever again

Likes to work with you if he gets the chance

Usually works in the backroom unloading and back stocking things

Has a doctors note that let's him take frequent breaks for eating

His favorite department overall is security because Lucifer gives him extra treats if he prevents high valued thefts

Belphie:

"I'm here because I have things I would like to have."

Is there an extra meaning to that?

Works in the back with Beel usually

Takes frequent naps in hidden areas of the backroom

Pretends to look busy if Lucifer is around

Also complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Fights with Levi on your breaks because he also wants to spend time with you when he can

Is the reason some coworkers don't approach you

He makes it known to not fuck with you

Diavolo heard you started a new job alongside the brothers! He goes to visit with Barbatos in tow.

Diavolo:

"Can I get a little help here?"

Flirts with you while on the clock. He thinks the red vest on you is cute!

Was wowed by the store in general

(Normally Barbatos does the shopping alone)

Liked sampling the food that was around the store

Was tempted to apply but Barbatos shut it down

Took a photo of Lucifer in his manager clothes

Barbatos:

"Seeing you here will make my shopping trips more enjoyable."

Praises your work

Did have to go to customer service to complain and ran into Asmo

Didn't believe Asmo was gonna clean the restrooms but at least the complaint was taken

Takes a survey and compliments you

Has to fight Dia to get him off the racecar cart

"It's for parents with children my lord."

Returns the cart to the cart corral like an upstanding citizen

My first bulleted story post lol. I had fun with this & hope to make more in the future. <3

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Mexican Restaurant︱Waffle House︱You ARE The Father

[sargeantposting]

Source / Ibotta

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What are your grocery store essentials products?

Kellogg’s, Nature Valley Bars, Ritz Peanut Butter Crackers

What’s your favorite grocery store?

Publix

What do you eat to prepare for a race weekend?

Pasta with tomato sauce and chicken

What do you eat after a race?

Anything I can get!

If you could earn cash back on one thing, what would it be?

Simply Lemonade

What is your guilty pleasure snack?

Ice cream

What US food do you miss the most living in the UK?

Prime Rib

Favorite foods your mom/dad would bring home from the grocery store when you were a kid?

Cheese and Crackers, Apple slices, Jello

What’s your favorite way to earn cash back with Ibotta?

Through online shopping!

Are you more likely to shop from your phone or shop from your laptop?

Phone

Describe how saving money makes you feel in 3 words?

Happy, smart, savvy

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[kaadutheforest]

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[kaaduorganics]

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[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Summary:

Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.

However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.

Especially those that concern a sweet reward.

Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley

TH Masterlist

Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 

In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner. 

As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.

Our home.

Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night. 

Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.

We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.

I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”

Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.

Thanks for the faith, buddy.

“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”

Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow. 

We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.

Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good? 

Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.

Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there. 

Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.

He was a sweet and caring gentleman.

Simply Alfie Solomons.

Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.

Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.

“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”

“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”

I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”

“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”

“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.

“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”

“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”

Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”

“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?”

“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“YouTube…”

He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’

“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t use my words against me.”

“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”

I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”

The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”

“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”

“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”

“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”

“First put on a pair of knickers.”

“No.”

“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”

“I ain’t sweating.”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”

I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”

Until I black out. 

The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.

For him.

Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”

“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”

We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”

He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’

“Knickers, Alfie.”

“One round.”

“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”

The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”

I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”

He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”

Game over.

Except for the one card I have left to play.

“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”

“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”

Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.

Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.

Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.

“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”

“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”

Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

These hours are ours.

This is our Margate.

“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”

“Mhm.”

Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.

Because sleeping isn’t an option.

He’s tired of the nightmares.

The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.

Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.

And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.

As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”

He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”

“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”

“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.

“And? Do you like it?” 

Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again. 

I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”

“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue. 

Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”

I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”

“There are cookbooks.”

“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”

“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”

“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”

“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”

Something not to be had in the kitchen.

‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’

Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint. 

Game over.

I won.

And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.

[carpenoctxrn]

Simon Riley x Reader (GN Pronouns)

synopsis: everything I believe simon would do with his S/O during Christmas

also feminine reader but not implied gender.

sfw

simon who loves the idea of decorating his house. at first he didn't want a house as he felt like it would be a empty shell and a reminder of how he is never around, how he will never be normal so an apartment would be more okay. but he decided financially if he can afford a good house he should purchase it. so he bought a two story house that has some acres but tons of trees surrounding it.

simon who asked his darling naturally after passing that milestone of being in a relationship as long as they had, he felt it would only be appropriate to ask them to move in. at first their darling was hesitant but ultimately they knew the answer was yes.

few months after simons darling moved in it was christmas. he felt as if he should ask his darling if they were interested in decorating the houses. he was met with online emails for delivery dates of christmas trees, gold and red ornaments, wreaths, gigantic candy canes to decorate the outside of the house, a bunch of out door lights, and a light up reindeer pulling santa set up to be placed on the roof. that was the only answer he needed.

as the couple would go out to the town to watch movies, shop for grocery, or to satisfy food cravings they would occasionally purchase knick knacks for christmas to hang around the house or to decorate during the festive season. simon didn't think ill of the holiday nor did he feel excited. some christmas he spent it being deployed and the ones he stayed at home were not different than every other day.

simon who is actually a bit excited this holiday because he has a sense of home in house all because of their darling. he loves waking up and having their darling ask them for help hanging things. he loves how domestic it feels when they set and begin decorating their christmas tree.

simon who definitely overspends on gifts for his darling because he wants the christmas to resemble a christmas catalog. he bought name brand everything without looking at the price tag. he bought them make-up if they used any, clothes of their aesthetic and color, gaming equipments if he felt like they need it, shoes from converse to YSL heels, and so many lingerie from small businesses all around the world that would ship to your location. it was tough getting the deliveries before his darling but he decided to just offer picking up the mail or anything if it was delivered to the post office rather than the drive way that was about one mile away from the house.

simon who helps his darling cook for their christmas dinner and offers to do the dishes afterwards while his darling showers and gets dressed. but before his darling went upstairs he decided to give some gifts early to his darling. like the brown silk dress that was skin tight and had long sleeve. it complimented the 24k gold bracelet that had your's and his initial engraved on it. along with some fluffy white socks that made them smile.

simon who wears black cargo pants with the maroon shirt you bought him to wear. he wore his silver rings, bracelets, and dog tags that complimented him. and also black fluffy socks too.

Master list

the divider is by @pommecita