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Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x girlfriend!doctor!reader
Warnings: fluff, established relationship.
The Olive Theory is a relationship concept suggesting a couple is perfectly matched if one person loves olives and the other hates them. This dynamic creates ideal balance, as the "olive hater" can simply give all their olives to their partner.
orange peel theory (Andrew Pope cody)
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
The late night shift had finally reached a temporary lull. You were leaning against the nurse's station, your forehead against the cold plastic of a clipboard, when a paper bag fell onto the counter next to you.
"Blessing from the day shift," Jack's voice pulled you out of your dissociative state. "Someoneβs family sent in a tray of gourmet sandwiches before they left. I managed to snag a couple before the residents tore through them like locusts."
You straightened and looked at your boyfriend.
"If thereβs olives on whatever you brought me, I might actually cry, I can smell them from here," you mumbled, rubbing your temples.
"I know your picky no-no, beautiful," Jack chuckled, unwrapping one of the foil parcels and handing it over to you. "Eat up. Weβve probably got ten minutes before the next wave comes in."
You didn't hesitate. Starving and desperate for a burst of energy, you took a generous bite.
For about two seconds, it was glorious. Then, your teeth hit something briny and distinct.
Your jaw froze midway through chewing. A instant look of betrayal washed over your face. Nose scrunched, lips curled in absolute disgust, you slowly pushed the sandwich away from your mouth, looking at it like it had just insulted your entire existence.
Jack, who had been about to take a bite of his own sandwich, stopped dead in his tracks. He took one look at your horrified expression and immediately realized what had happened.
"Oh no, no, no," Jack said, quickly swapping the sandwich out of your hand with his own untouched one. "Wait, baby, I'm sorry, thatβs mine! Give me that."
"I'm gonna die," you cried, dramatically grabbing a cup of water to wash away the awful flavor. "Why would anyone put tapenade on a sandwich? Horrible."
"No, itβs delicious," Jack replied calmly, already taking a contented bite of his sandwich you had just discarded without an ounce of hesitation. "That was meant for me. That one," he pointed to the package now sitting in front of you, "is plain turkey, cheese, extra mustard, zero olives. I mixed up the wrappers."
You inspected the replacement sandwich with suspicion, peeling back the top layer of bread to check and smell it before cautiously taking a bite. Perfect.
You let out a sigh. "You know, they say in an ideal couple, one person loves olives and the other hates them. That way, the universe stays in balance."
Jack swallowed with a thoughtful smirk.
He looked at you with cuteness.
"Yeah?" he asked softly. "So my willing sacrifice of eating all your discarded garnishes makes me the perfect boyfriend?"
"Itβs literally in the job description, baby," you said, taking another bite. "I supply the picky eating, you supply the trash can stomach."
"I don't know whether to be offended or proud," Jack joked, reaching out to wipe some mustard from the corner of your mouth. "Just keep that in mind next time you try to steal my fries."
"Never, picky means stealing all your fries." you smiled, leaning into his touch for a brief moment.
"Is it good? he asked as he watched you.
"It's perfect. My boyfriend and a olive-free sandwich, all I needed for my little break."
"See? No tragic olive encounters on my watch," he murmured, stepping a little closer so his body blocked you from the sight of anyone walking around.
He leaned down, cupping your cheek with one warm hand to pull you into a soft peck. But the second your lips met his, your eyes flew open.
You shoved gently at his chest, pulling back with a look of utter horror. "Go away," you squealed in a hushed whisper, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "You taste like tapenade."
Jack burst into a low laugh, his eyes twinkling with pure mischief. "Oh, come on. Itβs an acquired taste," he teased, approaching you as if he wanted to give you an even more passionate kiss. "Give your boyfriend some love."
new favourite stucky concept i just came up with :D
We know they were poor as hell before the war, so just imagine them during the summer, having just enough money for one big ice cream cone...... THAT THEY HAVE TO SHARE
SO imagine them switching it back and forth, but since they're up on the rooftop, and the summer heat is so bad that they're just in underwear, they get tired from having to lift their arms to switch the cone between them, so they decide to just both hold the cone
They're laying on their stomachs (mainly because Steve got so badly burned on his chest and shoulders from their beach trip the day before and bucky doesn't want him to have it get worse), facing each other, talking n joking.
They're so into whatever they're talking about, that they dont realise they've licked all the ice cream off at the top, so when they both go to lick it.......
You can guess what happens π
Squeeing and giggling and kicking my feet because holy shit Drew this is ADORABLE πππ
Ohh I can just see them, ice cream trickling down the cone and all over their fingers, their stunned faces as the realization hits them both like a lightning bolt from the sky.
Eyes as wide as saucers, lips still parted in surprise - and oh god, is this even real? Did they just kiss? Fuck, oh fuck. They just kissed.
Their tongues touched.
That was Bucky's tongue brushing against Steve's bottom lip.
That was the tip of Steve's tongue, seeking a taste of vanilla and finding Bucky instead.
Oh god.
Steve licks his lips. It's a reflex, the instinct to wipe away the moisture - ice cream and sweetness and Bucky - from his skin. He doesn't even realize he's doing it-- until Bucky's gaze flickers down to his mouth, right there before Steve's eyes, undeniably, as obvious as the sun at midday.
They don't say a word. Steve isn't even sure they're breathing, either one of them.
But the cone falls to the ground between them with a sad little splat, abandoned, and suddenly Steve's hand is cupping Bucky's jaw, and Bucky's vanilla-sticky fingers are sliding up into Steve's hair and their mouths are kissing again, kissing like they mean it, wet and slow and toe-curlingly deep-- and the soft sound Bucky makes, as they melt into the kiss, is the only thing Steve ever wants to hear for the rest of his life.
So my account has been targetted by TERF hate bots in the last 3 days. Today a 5th bot reblogged my post with disturbing threats about me deserving physical harm. Im honestly really upset and shaken. It makes me mad that tumblr put a mature warning on one of my plush posts and wont take it off, and yet they allow these bots to say the most heinous things and don't care at all. Im just disgusted and dissappointed in tumblr. Honestly makes me believe tumblr staff is the one making these bots.
So I reported one of the more aggressive and threatening reblogs and Tumblr claims that telling me to get raped isn't against their guidelines. Which I find funny considering they've been deleting trans womens accounts for no reason. Yet literal hate speech they allow. bot or not.
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i have a new addition to my isabelle collection.. that i made myself! i've always wanted a figurine of her in her green gingham dress, so i ended up making one :3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
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