#hat if I don’t like the recipes?

[jjacko434]

Turbocharge Your Fat Loss With 116 Oil-Free Delicious Keto Air Fryer Recipes That Cook in Less Than 30 mins.

I do my very best to find good items for any one of you searching the web. And updating all the time. Ian Jackson

“I lost 65 pounds eating so-called forbidden foods” When we’re on a keto diet, we’re tempted by fried foods like these ALL THE TIME… However, what if you could eat all the golden, crispy onion rings you want? 116 Oil-Free Delicious Keto Air Fryer Recipes That Cook in Less Than 30 mins… “I lost 65 pounds eating so-called forbidden foods” When we’re on a keto diet, we’re tempted by fried foods…

[enbesbians]

‘STRAWBERRY KISSES’

sub/top!a. anderson x dom/bottom!reader

cw: tribbing, ejaculating strapon (r. receiving), breeding kink, squirting, dove fucking, scent kink, r. is a parent, standing oral, slight impact play/face slapping (a. receiving), asphyxiation, lactation

MINORS DNI

summary: “real cowgirls ride pussy” and that’s exactly what abby did. who would’ve thought a respected farmer could be a pathetic slut? muscly, big and strong, all to be treated like a fucktoy under your hands.

a/n: this fic is by far one of the most lackluster fics ive probably written. it’s not that great in my opinion and i feel as though it ran in circles… i had been hesitant to post this for some time and had no clue how to end it so it’s a bit abrupt. this fic is almost just pure smut… really long and i over did it just a tad… id also like to apologize… it’s probably so all over the place… it’s been a long while since ive written anything and i don’t think this fic is as great as i tried to make it. nonetheless, i hope you end up enjoying.

that pretty girl abby in her cowboy hat, in those tight blue jeans that hugged her thighs just right, muscles bulging from its fabric and a rusted silver big buckled belt with roses carved into its metal, stood in front of your doorstep. the tap of her heel at your wooden porch with a smile that wore prettily across her lips, crate in hand full of fresh produce hand grown by her. corn, strawberries, apricots and tomatoes, all plump and in season. it was a surprise being greeted by her on your second day moving in. yeah there were others from the town who said their hi’s and goodbyes, some with buttered biscuits or a fresh lemon meringue pie that hadn’t been that well made came to welcome you too, but with her, it was different.

it wasn’t often to see a woman of her stature walking around the city you used to live in— she was built, big and broad, back confidently raised tall in a shirt that ripped at its sleeves showing every vein that ran up her toned freckled, sun kissed arms. on days you’d see her riding horses, galloping as her golden braid fluttered in the thick summer air or even a lasso in hand, things that you saw in movies that you hadn’t even thought twice about. she looked strong and able, independent, attractive, and alluring— even by the sound of her voice contrasting from her strong appearance with a gentle twang in every syllable she spoke.

you were used to the bright neon lights in the night’s city, honking horns and prolonged profanity being thrown back and forth outside of your window to now be surrounded by haybells, horses, clucking chickens and a sun that only ever burned down as if it had been summer year round. the switch was a culture shock and all the country side folk made you feel like you had been living here for years— smiling faces, waves as you rode up into your dirt driveway, seeing all the cows in the distance chewing on the brightest grass you possibly ever saw.

it was nice. through the few months you’ve lived here and growing more accustomed, you made a couple friends along the way. with their boasting charm and positive attitude, you were almost always involved in anything the town had gathered, like being invited to little events in the town— learning the ways of how the people tended their fun; good tasting beer, games and activities you never thought existed or took the time to take part in, like corn bathing or horse shoe throwing. socializing with other mother’s, talking about the shared stress you all experienced or new recipes that you ended up trying to make. even still, you felt a bit out of place at times. your clothes never matching with the attire the others had or their lingo being hard to comprehend, yet the cute accents they spewed whenever they spoke made you giggle warmly. they didn’t seem to mind when you’d ask what they meant when it came to the slang, catching on and using ‘y’all’ as a part of your daily speech. you’d let your kid play amongst other’s their age, finding solace in the open spaces they were able to roam and waddle through— seeing them come home with grass scuffs at the knees of their pants and dirtied palms.

not being too far from abby’s domain, she was well known in the town— inheriting her family’s farm and business as a full time farm worker, handing in fresh fruits, vegetables and cows milk to the monthly market. the anderson’s— you saw it etched in a wooden sign not too far from where you stayed, seeing a red wooden barn out in the distance beside a big pretty white house. she was a woman of business, hands gripping any tool with a grunt that echoed in the air as she puts herself to work.

the day before your initial move in, she saw you and the group of movers helping you gather all the furniture inside with your white summer dress that held against your womanly rounded frame, all frustrated in the face for how hot it had been. she smiled to herself, not seeing many people like you around here. city living people that is. it was adorable. a pretty thing like you didn’t belong in a place like this. filled with dirt and cattle and a body language that didn’t match up to the people that made up of this town— them wearing nothing but flannels and dirtied jeans. the women reeking of cigarettes as the men smelt like cigars all while spitting out peach pits and sunflower seeds.

it was already tradition to grant a new neighbor a gift when they first arrived— nicknacks and baked goods, books, canned food or peanuts. since abby was already getting produce to give to the market in the morning, it was best to give you a taste of what she was good at, wanting to get a real good look at you up close— hear how you talk, admire your body as you moved and see how you’d react to a gesture as big as a big crate of fresh home grown goods. it met all her expectations, seeing the beauty you held within your stare and the exotic nature of your frame, watching your eyes grow wide, replacing that tired and worn expression with a heartfelt one.

thick, sweet and velvety— she told you her name with a curl at the corner of her rose colored lips, tilting the tip of her cowboy hat. her golden hair tied into a tight braid that laid against her freckled shoulder and a hand clasping at her buckle. “it’s nice’ta see a new face round here.” she smiled triumphantly with her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, glazing over you as you held the crate that was once in her hands.

“i couldn’t take all of this.” you scoffed in amazement, noticing how there was not a dimple or bruise in sight on any of the produce.

“there’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit, hon.” she laughed, “it’s a welcomin’ gift. it’s my job to grow all this, don’t want it’ta go all to waste.” noticing how her accent slipped so elegantly as she spoke.

the image of her rested in your mind the entire day, placing all what she gave you in its respectable place, using some for the night’s dinner. it came out rich, juicy and complimented the meat you had made to go alongside it— feeling yourself moan with each bite as your lips drag over the silver of your fork. never have you have something that tasted so good. back home in grocery stores, you were so used to the over produced fruits and vegetables that you never got to taste what produce was really supposed to taste like.

as the days continue and you gave her your millionth thanks for her gift. she replaced her ‘you’re welcome’ with her presence— always being near when she wasn’t busy, coming whenever you needed help. if you needed someone to lift something heavy, there she was, if you needed something from the market, she’d tell you she was already on her way, if you needed help watching your kid, she was right there. no matter if she had been working all day in the sun— wearing sweat like a compressed shirt, coating her arms and face until it dripped from the underside of her chin, and dirt that seeped itself in the thick of her pants as if it had been bought that way— she was right there and that alone attracted you. she had an alluring personality with an even more charming presence that couldn’t go unnoticed, showing you around the town, or showing your kid to her barn, letting them see all the farm animals— petting the cows and horses, feeding the chickens, watching the pigs as they roll around in the mud— or even let them run down in her field. you presented them with freshly squeezed lemon juice and sandwiches as you watched from afar, staring in awe, not understanding how someone can be so genuine with their kindness.

you couldn’t lie, the view of her working was nice. your excuse to be near her was just as good as hers, making it a ritual to pass by when going to the market right around the time you knew she’d be out in the field. you’d catch her in her sports bar, getting a hold of the way her arms and back muscles flexed with the elastic of her boxer briefs peaking out from her pants— a thin line of hair following up to her belly button and freckles that scattered all over her arms and chest.

being the socialite she was, beer in hand with women flocking to her like fruit on flies, she’d laugh having them hang off her arms, fleeting eyes, talking about how impressed they were during the horse race that you unfortunately hadn’t been able to see. there was a slight film of jealousy that ran through your body, understanding why those women gave her attention but after all the days you’ve gotten to know her and the way she’d help you or even talk to you, you’ve grown a liking towards her.

abby could say the same. you hadn’t noticed when other farm workers placed their interests, seeing you as a fine piece of butchered meat, pristine and cut and hung in the most favorable way.

she didn’t want that. she wanted you all to yourself, adoring the relief on your face whenever she had a task done or the way you’d laugh after saying a joke or two, doing the usual head tilt when she left, eyes bouncing from your face until it lined all the way down your body. sneaking a hand at the side of your waist while passing by, inhaling the sweet spritz of your perfume that you wore or the sight of your ass in your jeans, finger in its pants loop, slighting jumping as you fixed them. nothing could top getting a tease of your panties whenever you bent down— that you may or may not’ve done on purpose— while wearing a dress. riling her up seeing the numerous pairs you wore, making the innards of her legs moisten and her heart race, keeping a visual memory of the blue lace you once wore or the lilac pair she last seen in the hamper in your downstairs bathroom that she shamelessly took.

it was memento. an unspoken thank you given by you, taken into her care. laid in her bed, she sprawled herself against her mattress, seeing the embroidered shapes in its cloth, remembering how it’d spread and cupped your ass. keeping in memory how you sheepishly pulled down at the dress’s fabric like you hadn’t known that you teased her with a beautiful, lustrous sight. she couldn’t help herself— you invited her in— trying to keep her indulgences tame each time she got a glimpse of your panties or the way your breasts sat in any shirt that you wore. she thought about your thighs and how they pressed together as you stood or whenever you sat down and how they expanded, thinking of whenever you were aroused and the mess you’d make in your panties and if they’d bunch at your folds or maybe even at your ass.

she’d take the panties to her nose, taking in your scent while rolling her fingers at her clit— pressing it against her lips and soaking them with her spit as she tried so desperately to let your taste linger. sopping wet, she’d let it bunch as she rubbed herself with it on her clit, grunting moans filtering her bedroom while her eyes closed themselves to remember the image of you— the simplicity in the way your tight shirt lifted and the skin that peaked just above your jeans, or even the way your jeans rolled at the folds of your hips. she’d hump the air, feet planted on her mattress as she pressed your panties roughly at her pussy.

and to think it all started off with a small hi and crate, inviting her to taste your sandwiches and apple pies, coming every few weeks or so, to her coming every week then almost every day— making it harder and harder to resist you and the need to be beneath your skin. to touch you, knead you, hear how you’d sound. now all that crowded her vision was her fucking you— digging her fingers into one of your dresses and tearing it off your body just to see how your panties really looked on you and how’d they’d look off. each breath painted the picture with the help of her entering your bedroom, keeping that in thought after you had asked for help to move your dresser. she thought about your body against hers, hand pressed down in the center of your shoulder blades, hips rolling deeply into you that had been hugged by her harness.

“you’re so nice.” you’d always tell her, sighing out a pleasant sigh whenever you got the chance.

“of course sugar.” she sang, her voice lustful and bright, “always nice to give a little, specially when a pretty woman is in need.”

“oh hush.” you laughed playfully while she leaned up against your doorframe— suspenders at the sides of her hips, hair undone from its braid and a hand tucked in the back of her pocket.

“it’s true. i don’t mind when’ya ask me of things, miss. i like helpin’ out. you’re so hardworkin’ and such’a good mama… the way you cook too? my god, it’s delicious.”

the sun rested against her frame like a glowing halo, taking the time to notice all the good deeds this woman has given you. no other has been this kind or dependable, being active in your child’s life as well as still have time to do all that needed to be done to maintain their business. it amazed you as well as excite you, coming to realization that abby’s eyes weren’t just kind but perverted. you had met your match.

every glance felt like she was studying you— the dark pools in her eyes expanded as the blue ring that surrounded, disappeared. they penetrated deep within your body, coddling your flesh like her plaything. feeling like a bee sting as her pupils prickled down your body. each time her tongue ran against the many cracks of her bottom lip, it was as if you could feel its flat bed roughly roll against your breasts, teeth grazing against your perked nipples with the subtle touches of her calloused hands sending shivers down your spine and towards your clit.

“i like to give back to deserving people.” you reply, your voice switching to an evident teasing tone that struck at her confidence, making her gather herself as she cleared her throat.

“there’s no need for that.” she smiled, her head lowering as the heel of her boot turned at your welcoming mat, “just cause i help ya out, don’t mean you have’ta physically give me anythin’ back. quality time is good’a nough for me.”

“is that so?” you chirped, hand now at your hip, letting the quiet ambiance of the distant bird chirp fill the comforting silence, “if that’s case, come back tomorrow, im going to make more strawberry tarts, you seemed to like those last time i made them. they’ll be in school tomorrow, so itll just be us if you don’t mind. we can have more ‘quality time’.”

“oh?” she smiled, biting down at her bottom lip, trying to hide the excitement that rose in the center of her chest, “yes… yes ma’am, i mean, i dont mind at all…us. i mean, it just being us… tomorrow. yeah… tomorrow then.” her well known confident demeanor demolished with you noticing her struggle to let out her words.

cute.

•••

morning approached, the blue sky and yellow sun swelling through the windowpanes as the sweet smell of strawberries filled the aroma. twenty minutes to nine, abby’s knuckle was in meet with the front of your door. there was nothing wrong with being a little early, she thought— unless there was a chance she could’ve been too early or maybe seen as too desperate?

she laid restless in her bed the night before trying to think of the many reasons as to why you had asked her to come over. yeah, you did say you were baking tarts and you wanted quality time but what did that entail? it wasn’t as if you and her had much alone time since your kid was either present or in the house alongside you both. it seemed odd, taste testing tarts without her doing the usual tasks you’d ask her to do. seemed too good to be true.

yet she was excited nonetheless, expecting nothing but positive due to how cheerful you always seemed around her. bashful stares and a warm conversation, it flowed nicely. just as nice as the pasta you made that last tuesday, the sauce being thick and not too runny and aged grated cheese to go on top of well boiled penne pasta.

smelling of cologne, she dressed all nice in her thick blue jean jacket— a yellow patch woven into the shoulder— and another one of her hats that was a warm tan that looked soft to the touch. her hair in its usual braid seeing how every strand had its own shade of blonde with two stands that flowed softly against her freckled face. “wow.” she sighed, eyeing the black dress you ended up wearing that she hadn’t seen before. it clasped at your hip dips, with the imprint of your stomach showing so cutely at its fabric— she wished she could touch. it was short, stopping mid-thigh and with each time you walked, you’d have to tug at its bottom as it rose and rippled at your waist. cut at its collar so your cleavage was on full display, wearing one of your bras that gave them more of a push. “hi…there.” she smiled, tipping the side of her hat like she had always done before. “you sure clean up real nice… shit.”

“why thank you, so do you.” you replied, making it evident that you adored her attire with the way your eyes glazed against her boxy frame. “you’re early.” your hand holding the side of the door, noticing the nervousness abby wore in the tone of her voice. it was cute, even cuter with how she looked like she tried so hard to look good for you— the scent of her so welcoming and her so neatly dressed.

“oh! m’ sorry, if’ya need me to come back later, i definitely would. just thought that… ya’ know… i didn’t think it would be much of a-“

“no… no.” you interrupted with a laugh, “you’re so cute. it’s alright. come inside, the tarts are almost done anyways.”

your house was warm and quiet, free of the nursery rhymes that usually played on the living room tv. there were no toys scattered about and alongside the sweet smell of the baking tarts was a slight film of cleaning products. it was gentle, the ambience of the morning’s music filling your ears as you hum a lulling tune. strawberries and sugar entering the airwaves with nice conversations being made, clock ticking moving closer to the tarts being done and ready to be tasted.

she sat down on the stool of your kitchen’s island, mouth watering at the sight of the tarts as they had been placed on a plate and set on the countertop. “now… tell me if these are good. i tried doing them a little different. the neighbor down the way said it’s best if i don’t use to much sugar so you’d able to taste more of the strawberries. unless you have a sweet tooth, i can make more with more sugar.” you chirped, wiping your hands at the apron that had been tied at your waist you ended taking off and placing it on a hook in your kitchen.

taking one, abby didn’t hesitate to eat, humming a pleased hum as she nodded her head, eyebrows furrowing. “this is real good.” she said, mouth full of the tart, licking the tips of her fingers, “i don’t usually eat tarts, but if i were’a professional, id give it’a A+.”

“aren’t you just a charmer, abby.”

she smiled at the compliment. abby was a natural flirt, everyone knew this. she talked to women like it was a sport without even realizing her intentions. it didn’t help that her voice alone was seductive, supple and flowy by default. it didn’t take long for you to take interest in it after the first few moments of speaking to her— not caring about accents until you heard hers. each word was like a melody, needing to have it played beside your nightstand on your bed.

“well…” she hummed taking another bite, wiping the side of her mouth with her thumb, “a woman who knows how’ta bake is a dangerous lil thing.”

you laughed, “a dangerous ‘little thing’.” you repeated lowly, admiring the way she indulged your food, hearing her muffled chatter. “and why is that?”

“you never heard the sayin’?” grabbing another tart, “the one bout’a happy belly?”

rolling your eyes, you start to put all the leftover ingredients back where they belonged, rag in hand and wiping the left over sugar and flour that sprinkled on top of the counters, “so you’re saying i make good food?”

“don’t be silly. of course, miss. im sayin’ more than that. fuck, if id’a known you were this talented, i would’a invited myself for dinner every night if you’d let me.” she replied honestly, her voice coming out softer before drinking the glass of water you left beside the tart’s plate. “a nice dinner… and dessert.”

“in that case, the offer is on the table.” turning to face her seeing her politely wipe her mouth. “you’re usually present during the lunch i make.”

“how could i not? you make’a mean sandwich and dont get me started on that one time you made— oh uhm miss…you got’a little…” pointing at your breast, a small wet patch being shown. you had leaked. it happened pretty often and youd always get so embarrassed every single time. it’d happen in the most random moments and especially in public. there was nothing satisfying about having a wet shirt as you roamed through the grocery store or even in the past when having dinner dates with online meetups your friends swore worked— everyone would make notice with them seeming just as embarrassed as you were, but you just groaned. shamelessly trying to look sexy for abby all to be leaking through right as she arrived.

“fuck, why now?” your fingers running along the wet patch as if magically it would disappear. “im sorry… this always happens when i don’t want it to.”

“oh!” abby swallowed, her eyes widening as she shook her hands, “no, no! it’s nothin’ you got’a be embarrassed about… it happens, sweetheart.” she spoke with her voice trembling like in any way she made the situation worse yet she hadn’t. looking at her, you noticed how frequently she blushed and how easy it was for her to get flustered. your mind spoke loudly to you as you thought of the many ways to make her puddle at your feet— it was what you deserved anyway. a single mother that hadn’t been given this type of attention since before you knew you were pregnant, having nothing but lack luster sexual encounters that didn’t even grant you a good enough orgasm. just from her reactions alone made your body tingle— this big, buff woman acting all shy in front of you. trying to be so kind and respectful with her use of ‘miss’ and ‘ma’am’.

“you see stuff like this a lot?” you tease, taking a towel to continuously wipe at the fabric you knew wouldn’t dry but you tried nonetheless.

abby chuckled, her warm tongue rolling at the bottom of her pouted lip. there shouldn’t be anything alluring about seeing you leak through your dress, but to her, her perverted mind thought quicker and her body felt itself wash with a film of arousal. “no… its my first time actually. but i dont see why it’d be much of an issue.”

looking up, you notice her eyes and how she obliviously stared at the stain on your breasts. “you think so?” rolling your tongue in the inner of your cheek, you chuckle quietly as you hummed. “in that case…would you like a taste?”

abby choked on her spit, her eyes widening, getting a better sight of the blue and her growing pupils. the question was abrupt and she had no way to prepare how she could react. “taste…? im… m’ sorry miss… i dont think’a understand.”

“yeah, taste. haven’t you ever wondered what it tasted like? ive tried it. it’s a bit sweet, maybe even sweeter than those tarts.” your hands cupping at your full breasts, squeezing lightly as you felt yourself continue to leak from your nipples— the wet patch expanding. abby couldn’t do anything but sit there, hypnotized with how they oozed from it’s collar and the way you let yourself mess up more of your dress. “seems like you like it. does the sight of leaking and the thought of tasting me get you all hot and bothered?”

“you fuck’n tease…” she chuckled, enjoying the way you spoke to her. every woman she encountered had never dared to speak to her that way. seeing her as nothing but a woman of control rather than someone who could be controlled— take her as she is and put her in her place, knowing all what to say, what do do and how it should be done. abby hadn’t thought about it to know if that’s something she’d enjoy. but now, with the view of your hands fondling your breasts and the slow whispers that hummed in the air, asking her questions that you both knew what the answer would be made her more wet than she thought she could get, “you ain’t gotta ask… you’re a fine woman… how can i not?”

“oh am i?” you hummed, “i just like the way you react to me.”

“and, how do i react to you?” abby’s voice entranced by you and whatever move you made.

“well… when i compliment your work ethic… telling you how hard it must be, how draining… yet a strong woman like you? it must be easy for you, yeah? all the poor weak men who try to do what you do look like amateurs. but you, miss abigail anderson, you look so determined and sexy… fuck, how sweaty you get and how… your body… flexes… makes me want to let you take me right there on that dirty field and fuck me.” never leaving her eyes, your finger drags along the countertop of the island that separated you both, one foot in front of the other, making your way towards her slowly. she felt herself burn with anticipation, her golden glow washing a faint red at her nose, cheeks and the tips of her ears. frantic, her hands clutching at her buckle, then fixing her hat to pressing it’s palms down at her jeans to clean its sweat. “it’s odd.. ive been missing a few pairs of my underwear… do you think you know who’d take them? i mean… who would…?” you laughed sweetly, as you let your face lean closer towards abby who couldn’t even sit still in her chair— chest heaving, lips wet from the constant licking. “buuut, i think i have a pretty clear idea who could’ve took them. you thought you were so slick, but how could i not see a pair of purple panties poking through your pocket. tell me abby, what did you use it for?”

“m’sorry… i wasn’t thinkin’ they were just right there and i…”

“shhh no need for all that pretty girl.” you stood in front of her— seeing how her muscles craved through her jean jacket, and her hat slightly tilted down, unable to look at you, looking every which way as she felt her heart jolt with excitement. it wasn’t usual for her to act this way— get all nervous and tongue tied. your shamelessness got the best of her. it was abrupt, teasing and erotic, feeling her body burn with an intense desire to finally place those imaginations to reality.

you slid your finger at the underside of her chin, pressing your thumb just below her bottom lip. “look at me.” your voice in a hushed tone, lifting her face towards yours. she exhaled deeply, lips parting as if she was going to speak, but nothing followed.

“that’s it pretty girl… look at mommy… need to be able to see those pretty blue eyes.”

“shut your fuck’n mouth…” abby breathed with a smile forming on her lips, letting the word mommy wrap itself around her throbbing clit, rolling her hips down in the stool where she sat.

“why so snappy?” you coo teasingly, removing your hand from her face, placing both on top of hers that had been clasped against her jeans, slowly raising them until they were pressed at your breasts. “you’re the one stealing my panties… and your hips, they’re moving. my words are getting to you, aren’t they? i don’t think you really want me to.” you continued, abby’s eyes obedient as she watched the way yours study her body. her fingers mindlessly curling as she felt the softness of your breasts push in between every spaced out finger while feeling the roughness of her calloused palm. letting out a pleasured sigh, you ran your hands down the backs of her knuckles, then her wrists and her muscled forearms.

“miss…” she breathed, her clit vigorously thumping against the fabric of her briefs. the gentleness of your voice and breasts made her sink deeper into the stool, hands groping them tighter and harder, “you’re so fuckin’ sexy… keep talkin’ to me like that…”

“yeah, you like that? that’s it… you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” you tease, breaking the swelling silence that filled in between your shared gasps. “i see the way you’ve been looking at me… the way you talk to me. where’s all that confidence now, hm?”no response was given. it was as if this was the very first time abby had been left speechless.

“speak.” you demanded, quickly letting go of one arm to grip her jaw roughly, yanking her slightly closer as you bent down towards her face, “…speak.” you repeated, this time softly, lips just inches away from hers— letting yourself hover with gasps ghosting her lips, hearing a whimper fall from her own.

“shit.. you just make me nervous, miss… i can’t help ma’self… you’re just pretty as a picture.” she admitted, letting out a breath of shaky laughter. you stood up again, her blinking frantically thinking that you were going to kiss her, but you didn’t. not now at least. she let herself look down at your breasts to see them spilling from your black dress— your areolas peaking from the lace bra. “lord have mercy on me…” her eyebrows furrowed, gulping down harshly as she bit the bottom of her lip.

she was in trance with you, the way your body moved and molded even when she fondled with your breasts. her grip grew stronger, feeling the roughness in the prod of her fingers and feeling the wetness of your dress stick against her hands. “you want it, don’t you big girl?” you teased, “i know you’d know how to handle me… how to fuck me. show me abigail. let me see how a pretty woman like you can ruin me.”

a hand quickly pressed at the small of your back, pulling your body in between her legs as her lips latched onto your neck, her hat falling down onto the floor at the push of her forehead that tattooed the side of your jaw. open mouthed kisses running along its side and down to your collar bone letting her tongue run along your skin until her lips felt yours.

the intensity of her lips was strong and full, inhaling them into her mouth with you both trying to take lead. opened mouthed and husky breaths hugging one another’s tongues as your hand wraps itself at the back of her head. lips glistening as spit rolled down the sides of your mouths, chin and neck. she ran her tongue underneath yours before wrapping her lips around it’s muscles, suckling on it with a bobbing head.

pulling back to catch your breath, a smile crept on your lips, “open your fucking mouth..” you snarled playfully— her mouth ajar as you gathered spit and letting it fall at her tongue.

“ya’taste so good…” she couldn’t handle the absence of your mouth as she drank your spit, pushing you into her face as you study yourself back into the kiss. her thick muscle would roam inside of your mouth, spit bubbling and running from its sides, latching her lips and sucking up any that left.

her lips trailed down, fingers curling at the collar of your dress to yank its fabric down and hook it underneath your breasts, with the help of you unclipping your bra. now in her sight was your swollen nipples, wet and dripping and in need of release. she placed you inside of her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she felt your warm milk rush in the center of her tongue. eyes rolling back as she swallowed, your breasts being pushed into her face and nose while kneading them together as she sucked.

the taste of you was addictive, loving the watery yet thick texture you let out and how it felt as she swallowed it. leaning her head back, tugging at your nipple, she releases her latch, watching the way your breasts move so obnoxiously, “fuck you taste so good… can’t stop sayin’ that…” she exhaled, “and… and you’re just so goddamn hot i-“

she pushed your breasts together rougher, seeing the light sprinkle squirt out from your nipples, “i could cum just drinkin’ you…” sticking her tongue out as she aimed it into her mouth. it got all on the sides of her lips, the tip of her nose and chin, messing herself up and letting it fall down onto her lap. hurriedly she leaned back in, sucking on the other. each suck harder than the last, letting you fill her mouth, savoring it with every two to three sucks before she swallowed it all.

watching the way she seemed so desperate for more, the way her cheeks hollowed and expanded and her nasally inhales filled your ears with bliss as well as her velvety moans that vibrated and directed itself at your sore, sensitive nipples. your hand pressed at the back of her head, pushing her in closer, adoring the way her head bobbed as she sucked.

“oh you’re so cute… look at you, so fucking desperate for me.” you cooed, letting out a pleased laugh— her immediately feeling embarrassment wash over her entire being but her being able to finally taste you, feel you, indulge you was far more stronger. the look in her eyes were as if she was in need of you and only you, taking in every vowel you spoke, letting it cradle her clit. your soft thighs encapsulating the heat she exuded from her jeans, letting your knee touch right at her crotch. “you’re such a good girl… drinking from me. you like it don’t you?” you wince pleasantly, loving the sting of her harsh sucks at your irritated and hardened nipples.

nodding she removed her lips, running her tongue along the rim of her mouth when any of your milk started fell down her chin. “don’t tease me like that… won’t be able’ta control myself.”

“mm, yeah? keep sucking and show me how you’d lose yourself to me.” you demanded and she listened. the feeling of her sucks drove you to the brink of insanity— jolts of pleasure lining down your spine and up your thighs making you press your knee further into her jeans. her large hands exploring your womanly frame, grasping onto your ass as your dress began to hitch up your thighs— the tightness of the fabric pressing deep into your skin, letting it bubble at its rim. “get on your knees for me.”

removing herself, the echo of the chair being moved back was loud and quick, pressing her knees down onto the wooden floorboards. her face in meet with your black laced panties that had been soaked. placing your hand at the back of her head, inviting her to press her nose right against your clothed clit, rolling your hips against her face as she held onto your thighs, nails digging into it’s plushness. she inhaled your scent— the aroma of your arousal filling her airway, letting you feel the lining of her curved nose slide from your clit then down your folds, letting it dampen her skin.

“that’s a good girl… such a pathetic pretty thing… huff it.” you moan, loving the sight of abby and the way she allowed you to talk to her.

“fuck miss…” she inhaled, “you smell so nice… m’ losin’ my mind…“ eyes closed, turning her head slightly left then right— nose buried deep into your clothed folds until it left an imprint, fabric sticking to your wet cunt. “m’so pathetic… all for you… can’t stop thinkin’ bout your fuckin’ pussy and god knows how much i…. how much i needed this.”

your fingers slid at the side of her face, taking any loose strands that fell from her braid away from her face as she spoke— getting a hold of her braid stabilizing her head, lifting it granting a loud inhaling moan.

she looked up you, eyes flickering between your eyes then your lace. “you’re so wet for me, i can feel ‘em through your panties, see” she breathed, sliding her thick fingers to feel your puffy folds almost hug around them— your slick seeping through and coating her fingers. she rose her fingers, spreading them apart, admiring the string that connected from her middle to her ring finger before placing them on her tongue and sucking them.

she lifted your dress some more, just enough to show your full stomach as she held onto your waist, pressing her lips deeply at the soft pudge, leaving slow, teasing kisses against, her lips sinking in every meet, with her eyes staring right up at you. abby wanted you to know she admired the way that you looked, how soft your body had been, letting this moment be the time she overindulged in every part you’d let her. her lips rimming around your belly button, opening her lips as she let her tongue slightly caress at the skin, “so soft..” abby spoke in a hushed tone, spreading your thighs apart more as she pressed her nose right in the center of your clit, inhaling your sweet smell once more before rolling her tongue over it. “can’t get ‘nough of this pussy… it just smells so sweet.” she breathed, latching onto your clit as she started to slowly suck right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against her tongue.

“yeah…? you like it don’t you baby? huffing it like a dog in heat.” you tease, tilting your head to see those pretty lips that were in its usual pout spread against the lace. “come on big girl, show me how much you need it.” enjoying the feeling of her harsh inhales and exhales traveling against your skin as she sucked— moaning sweetly between every word as your hips buck into her face, rolling them.

pulling down your panties to the side, she saw the wetness connect from your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.

“m’ gonna fuck it with my tongue… may i…? can i have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself…?” her eyes not leaving your face, letting her tongue run up your slit as her mouth latches on.

“show me.”

just as she always does, she obliged, listening to your every request like a trained puppy— she pressed it’s muscle harder, circling her lips at the bud. with one hand holding her braid and the other at your hip, you press your shoe at her crotch, pressing down firmly, circling it around.

a tingling sensation bounced off her body, roaming through each part of her limps, the heat rose at her crotch was now your stepping stool. furrowing eyebrows and low grunts, her lips released, dropping her head down, she watched as your shoe pressed against her aching clothed pussy— her jeans already tight and harshly hugging her thighs to the point where she felt like busting through them. “fuck…” she breathed, spreading her kneeling legs apart, liking the pressure you placed on her. abby rolled her hips upward, eager to just feel something more— any attention to her cunt and the hard surface from the bottom your shoe, did wonders on her.

“i didn’t tell you to stop now did i pretty thing?” you coo as you lift her head by her braid, other hand sliding against her cheek with a slight stroke of her thumb before lifting and tapping her face, giving her a hard slap. her eyes widened and her hips jolted, feeling more of a press from your shoe— the throbs of her cunt matching it’s beats with the lingering sting of the slap, her moans growing louder and throaty. “oh?” loving the surprised glare abby gave you, “took you by surprise didn’t i?”

she smirked, basking in the tingle her face had, “the way you’re handlin’ me miss…” her lips now ghosting over your clit, “never had’a women talk to me like this before.”

“you like it, don’t you?”

“oh i surely do.”

abby was enticed with the way you felt against her tongue, pushing her face in as if there were to be any space in between, she’d want to fill her face in it— each lick, she curls her tongue at your entrance, hooking all that you leaked against her tongue, swallowing it and your labia fluttering in her mouth in the roughness of her suctions. popping her mouth off just to see the flesh of your pussy dance prettily and coated in her spit.

“please fuck my face miss…” she groaned in between sucks, “fuck it… please fuck it.”

her bitten nails piercing deep in your soft thighs and your ass, letting it fill her hands as she gripped and shook it in her grasp— your panties bunching and lining in between your ass. cocking a hand back, she spanked, a loud gasp croaking from your throat, hips jolting closer towards her face as she spanked you over and over again. “your fucking mouth… god youre so dirty… you make me feel so good.” you sigh, taking a deep breath as you found your legs buckling inward, hands at the top of her head— her neat braid now forming a mess.

“look how it’s drippin’… you needed this, didnt’ya miss?” admiring how wet you were for her, her eyes in full amazement— dazed by the taste and the scent. her tongue ran along your stripe, spitting on your clit, quickly lapping it up before she slowly slid its muscle in your opening. instantaneously you clenched against her, head bobbing as she let her tongue penetrate deeper into your cunt. it felt hot and warm, contorting her tongue just you can feel how hard her tongue worked— her nose bumping at your clit with her eyes watching your even reaction.

you were left in a moaning mess, unable to taunt her as much as you would’ve liked— she knew exactly what she was doing and how to please your pussy. moaning her name over and over again as your shoe continued to press harder against her crotch and your hips fuck up into her face. the grip she had on your ass, pulling you in even before she even thrusted herself outward, humming a line of ‘uh huhs’ as she took notice of the switch in your heightened sounds.

leaning herself back, there was a string of mixed slick and spit that connected you both, spreading your folds, spitting against your clit and letting it run down, quickly running her tongue up your folds, then spitting again. the spit turning stringy and somewhat slimy.

“stop.” you panted, yanking her head from her braid seeing her face wet, skin glistening in the mess she made from you cunt. strands of cluttering at her forehead as she tried her best to catch her breath.

“did i do somethin’ wrong?” lining her tongue against her lips.

“go on the couch. i need more.” taking your shoe from her crotch, watching the big woman get herself up on her feet, gulping down harshly as she walked towards the couch with you following.

“stand here.” you demanded, “watch me.”

your fingers curl at her buckle, feeling its cold metal against your fingers as you undid it, throwing it to the side and hearing it loud clunk against the floor following with her pants and boxers that you let puddle at her feet. your face now in view with her pussy— a warm deep honey flush of hair coating it , wild yet trimmed that lined all the way up her belly button. “im gonna let this pretty pussy fuck my tits.” you announced breathily.

she gasped in return, watching as you press your breasts together, poking out your chest with her hips following. “dont be shy… fuck it.” you tease, her hands holding onto your shoulders as you gather spit and let it fall at your thick, rounded breasts, already wet from abby’s hungry lips and you leaking.

she took no time to press herself onto you, the softness of your warm, wet breasts pressing at her hardened clit allowing a shaky moan to fall from her lips. no time was wasted before she rutted herself into your— her strong build making your body jerk at every thrust she gave. her clit felt warm and her slick tattooed your skin— each pull of thrust having a line of her slick connecting you both.

“good girl, fuck them rough.” you praised, abby now lost in lust, your leaking nipples dripping down onto your thighs and her own. the slaps of skin were loud and her moans were louder, gritting at her teeth. bending at the knees, you took a hold of one, rubbing your nipple down her folds, letting it feather her clit.

“it feels… so… goddamn good.” her moans broken but her thrust directed, throwing her head back as she let the sounds of her melodic moans bounce against the living room walls.

“that’s it, show mommy how good it feels.” you laugh, enjoying how abby lost herself for you. each part of her body was at work, lifting her shirt to show her own cute, small breasts, grasping on one and rolling her finger against her nipple. she twisted and turned at her, her body jolting forward, knees knocking inward, unable to keep herself standing.

you stood up quickly, needing to feel her against you. with a hand pressed at her chest, you pushed her down, watching her body bounce of the cushion. taking her jacket, you straddle her waist, your cunt pressed against her crotch as you take both her wrists in hand, pinning them above her head. your hips wildly roll upwards, feeling the sharpness of her shaped abdomen, letting your clit trail against it’s bumps as she breathed heavily. “god you’re so sexy…” you whined, your hips snapping as your body jiggled and moved— abby’s hands clasping onto your thighs then your stomach as it moved. “i want to fuck every… fucking part of your body…” you admitted, her stomach now wet with your slick before you let yourself run down and hover her cunt once more.

“been wantin’ta fuck you so bad miss…” she sighed, hips rolling up into you, mimicking the grinds you gave. the feeling of her jeans bumping at your clit, dampening it as your face snakes along hers. “drivin’ me insane…”

“oh am i now?” you moan prettily as you continue to roll your hips, feeling the heat between you both interlock. “i want you…” you breathe, voice shaking, “i want you to ride my pussy with yours… need to feel it on me.”

“miss… i would’a never thought you’d’a be so damn dirty…” abby grinned wickedly, eyes flashing dangerously at your request, turning you around so your back replaces hers on the couch.

grabbing you leg, she spreads them, lifting it, hovering herself over yours as she angled her clit on top of yours. her strong legs being pushed into your frame, feeling the weight of her strength in the consistency of her starting grinds. your fingers tug at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up to see the hair that trail down her belly button wash lightly against her pubic bone— her pussy fleshy and wet. at contact, a loud groan croaked from her throat, pressing herself down further and starting to move her hips.

she rutted her hips wildly, unable to control herself with the way you sounded at every movement she made. huskily grunting at the feeling of your beating clit pressing up against hers and down her wet folds. hearing the wetness of your collision rise with the moans that fell from your throats. grasping onto her arms, nails digging into its skin with eyes that connected as you spoke at one another in the song of your moans. “baby your pussy feels so good…” you call out.

“atta girl…” abby grunted, heavy hips lifting as they slammed against yours— feral, rigid, “m’gonna breed you… fill you up and make you pregnant.” that once sweet and soft spoken southern woman, losing herself in her lust.

abby knew she couldn’t— she wasn’t thinking straight at all. the adrenaline that pumped through her veins caused her to not even feel the ache that stirred in the quickness of her rolling hips. each thrust, she felt her body shudder with excitement, like her body took shots of this moment to remember. her clit, pounded against yours, loving the intensity of colliding skin and your moans that got whiner after every grunt she spoke.

beats of sweat slid down her forehead just like she had been out on the field, cascading down in stylized ripples, feeling the itch in the tickling drip. your eyes wide, it wanting to miss any second, feeling yourself close to a haze, unable to grasp at the fact that abby said she was about to breed you when it wasn’t even physically possible. it was hot nonetheless— your body arching into the couch cushions as your nails tattooed the thickness of her rough yet soft skin.

“say…” you breathe out in a struggle, feeling your moans flow from your throat on lumps, swallowing the spit and running their tongue against your drying lips, “say that again..”

she laughed in another hungered grunt, her large hand pressing down at your full chest, letting her palm slide up until it hooked around your neck, thumb firmly giving you a nice choke, “oh my…” abby laughed breathlessly, eyebrows knitting into a pleasurable expression, “m’ gonna make you a mama again— m’a breed this pretty pussy. you need it dont’cha baby… i know i needed this...”

“do it!” you shouted with a devilish grin, rolling your eyes back as your felt your stomach tighten and your limbs lock. unable to keep still, your body flared as you tried so desperately to hold onto something. even though abby had you in her grasp, each breath being harder to take with her tightening hold, and your legs in an unmoving position, your body couldn’t take all this pleasure. it was quick, rigid, hunger and outward looking in, anyone could see how desperate you both were for the building orgasm that flooded in the language of your body movements.

“fuck m’a cum… take it…”

her clit pulsated hard, squeezing a rasped grunt as she felt herself gush directly onto your push— a satisfied sigh after every one she made— the clear liquid splashing onto your stomach, her chest and your face.

it took you by surprise, snapping your neck up to watch her squirt right on you as she grinded it all into you, the puddling mess escaping everywhere and filling the lining of your stomach until it concave as you breathed in. the sight alone was disgusting hot, toes curling as your orgasm hit you harder than any toy you’ve used and definitely harder than any person tried in the past.

“fuck…” abby sighed, gulping down roughly with her hips slowing themselves down— her body now glistening with sweat, her muscles being more prominent than before.

“im not through with you yet.” you laughed, “no one’s ever made me cum this hard and that fast. need to ring you out dry.” letting go of her shoulders, taking her braid that slung over it, and pulling her down so your lips were inches apart, “you know how to work a strap on pretty girl?”

“you wan’ that? m’ might break you.” abby snickered, being well versed in the used of a strap on, having many herself back at home.

“break me big girl.”

•••

both of you were now free of clothing as she laid prettily on your bed, legs sprawled out to see her wet pussy being on full display. her clit was cute, fleshy, dripping with cum that ran down the innards of her thigh. you pressed deep and slow kisses against the inner of her thighs all the way to her clit, running the flat of your tongue on it and with each lick, she'd stare, watching as it’d move in the direction you licked. she tasted sweet, filling your mouth as your nose felt the tickle by the constant rub against her pubic bone, letting your lips take breaks in between to kiss alongside it. you ran your finger against the hood of your clit, watching its bud stand as you blew cool air against it— her body twitching at the soft blow.

“does it feel good?” you tease, each couple licks granting an inhaling suck. her eyes went back and forth, closing them and trying to watch as your face took it’s place in between her legs. she wanted to watch you, the way you looked so sexy rolling your muscle at her aching clit. she felt a constant throb huddled at her temples, jaw clenching as she let out soft grunts, bucking her hips up towards your mouth. the scent of her was strong and tantalizing, popping your mouth off just to see the flesh of her pussy flutter prettily.

she nodded, already feeling the building orgasm at the bottom of her stomach. you ran your tongue against her skin, letting it trail all the way up to her belly button before nipping at her skin— teeth grazing as you sucked gently, feeling the burn against your tongue.

“use your words.” you breath against her, allowing a trail of spit to coat over her exposed bud.

“it feels… so…” she hummed, gulping down roughly as her body jerked slightly with the movement of your flicking tongue, “fuck it feels good miss… please… please let me fuck you.” she begged, unable to wait much longer knowing she didn’t have time herself before she’d lose herself completely.

a smile resided on your lips as your hand slid against the cold bedsheets, grabbing onto the strap and harness you had gotten while stumbling your way up the stairs and into your room.

taking it, she stood, legs slightly locking. red flushed at her shoulders and cheeks, with wet trails that fell and lined down her legs and splattered on her stomach— getting a better sight of what made up of her build. her ass was tight and muscling, clenching so cutely as she put one leg in the harness after the other, letting it sit tightly at her hips that had been fastened. you took her place in bed, laying and watching her as she quickly assembled it onto herself. your fingers grazed over your clit, feeling your body jerk with sensitivity, humming out pleasantly as she made her way towards your bed once again.

her lips warm and soft, raw from the constantly prod of yours as you stumbled your way from the couch, up the stairs and into your bedroom— they were red and even more plump before, throbbing at every spread when she smiled.

“god miss…” another breathy sigh being exhaled, “you’re gonna make me all pussy drunk.” her hand wrapping around the dildo— thick and a reasonable length. one that could fill with its fake ejaculation and stretch you, make you gasp upon entering. it had been one of your favorites, never failing to make you cum as if you were in one of those films where the sex was hot from a quick hookup at a bar. you used it a lot and especially when you wanted your legs to give out, slamming it into you until your arms were raw in pain— loving the sight when you took its girth from inside of you, squeezing the ‘cum’ it let out.

“seems like you already are, dont forget, you were just huffing my pussy downstairs.” you teased, her body hovering yours as she let the tip of the dildo replace your fingers, sliding it up and down your folds with a firm press. “impress me. you have my hopes up, don’t want to be let down.”

she scoffed, her lips savoring gentle kisses in between every word you spoke, “just cause this shit fake don’t mean m’not gonna fuck you like it’s real, miss.” and with a lean, she gathered spit in her mouth, letting it fall at the tip of the dildo that had already dropped from your slick, letting it run down its detailed shaft before stroking it— twisting wrist and a firm grasp. “lift that leg up f’me.”

you obliged, holding on up as it still trembled, remembering that hard orgasm you had on the couch. her other hand, free, slapped your clit with no warning, replacing the immediate sting with a calming rub as you felt your body twitch coldly. you liked that. she didn’t treat you like you were helpless— she didn’t fuck you like she felt bad for you. a single mother all desperate for a good enough fuck to remember, that’s what people thought once they lay in your bed. they all looked at you, thinking by the sweetness of your smile, you weren’t able to take something as simple as a choke or a little back and forth between degrading words— but a slap to the cunt from a hand as rough and as big as hers? it felt good, and before you could even make a complete thought she did it again.

“you’re a dirty thing.” abby let out in a impressed sigh, your fingers replacing hers as they tried to soothe your clit from the slaps. your pointer and middle, spread yours folds open, allowing her to see your readiness. “you ready f’me?”

“show me baby… show me. ruin me.”

pressing your leg against her chest, you felt the softness of her small breast and the heaves of her deep breaths. she angled herself, the dildo slowly disappearing into your cavern with a gasping moan filling the air. her eyes glued themselves, admiring the way you took her so easily despite it’s girth.

the sting of your leg and how it had been lifted burned at your thigh, letting out a pleasured shriek once you felt yourself wrap around her entirely— folds hugging its shaft. sunken inhales and fingers clasping onto the bed sheets, her hips start to move slowly and at each thrust, you saw her abdomen form and flex.

“god you’re so big…” you whisper, her hips staggering as she dipped her body down, face inches away from yours as it hovered. “such a… good… girl, go faster…”

abby couldn’t contain herself. the tight hug at the harness nudged against her clit, already stimulated and throbbing from your now absent mouth. each push of her hips came a harder pound, loving the way your breasts obnoxiously knocked into one another, taking a hold of one as she latched her lips on them again. she sucked harshly, letting her hips loose as she rolled them faster into you.

“just… just like that.” you call out, her responding in humming ‘mm hmms’, only caring for your demands and the heightening moans you let out.

she fucked you good. she fucked you hard. your body jerking every time her skin came in contact with yours. lifting her head, your hands frantically moved gripping at her jaw. deeper she went, hearing your sounds and pleads for more. abby swore she could feel you wrapped around her. you let your fingers dig into her cheek, feeling in indentation of her teeth through her cheeks, bringing her her face down. you pressed a long warm kiss against her squished lips, her heavy breath from her nose blowing at your upper lip as she tried to keep her breath steady.

“oh fuck miss… you feel so good.” she cooed in between each kiss, capturing your tongue in her mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing her head. “i need’ta breed you… i want’a cum inside… please let me.” she begged, your tongue swiping across her lips, collecting the remnants of spit that coated them.

“come on big girl, fill me up.” you egged on, surprised at how close your orgasm was picking up. the heat between your bodies burning as the shift of your bed scrapped against the wooden floorboards. each thrust, you heard the hard collision of skin, your body and stomach moving as her hand gripped it, massaging it as she let her eyes fall from yours to your breasts to your stomach. “you’re so good to me… so good for me… the way you treat me… you deserve it… breed my pussy. impregnate me…”

a fleeting glint of mischief and eagerness glistening in her watercolored colored eyes, your words trapping her in a lust filled state as her hips lost its consistency but picked up in its power. eyebrows furrowing, and dripping spit coated lips, she felt herself nearing closer and closer.

“please..” she whimpered, chanting over and over as she let out soft cries, eyes welting from how good it felt and how you sounded.

“cum with me..” you spoke gently, a harsh gasp as you curl your toes, “cum for mommy… come on baby.”

“i… fuck…” her hand hurried in search and in hold of the valve that allowed the strap’s ’cum’ to fill itself inside of you. “im gonna fill you up…” right before she felt herself reach her high, she squeezed it tight, its warm, thick cum filling itself inside, pressing firmly at your walls as some seeped out with every pull of her thrust— a white ring surrounded the base of the shaft.

she let out a loud howl, releasing herself with a splash of her squirt coming from the side of the harness, spraying down on top of you and the bed. your rolled to the back of your head— body trembling rigorously as your push your orgasm down onto her shaft. loud and clear moans being fought from your mouths as she let herself thrust deeper and slowing its pace.

“god…” you breathed as she slid out, immediately sitting in between your legs, hand pressed at your thigh as you push them cum from inside of you out. it leaked, slowly escaping and falling to the bed. “look how much you filled me.” you laugh tiredly, her eyes growing at the sight.

“jesus…” she sighed all the while trying to catch her breath, “my apologies but i dont think i had’a nough…” she admitted, her body visibly worn but full of an adrenaline high to stop herself.

smirking to yourself, you nodded, running your tongue over your lips, “good, cause im not done with you.”

[honeydjarin]

BRING ME THE SUN

OPLA SANJI X READER

You often find yourself in the galley, seeking the company of your favorite chef. Even when your half asleep, Sanji can’t bring himself to turn you away.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1,500

a/n: how often can I write about sleeping? It’s what I long for most of all. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with opla!sanji, but now I can't stop thinking about him!

PART II: (I’LL GIVE YOU THE MOON)

Your feet carry you over salt-soaked wood, up creaking stairs bordered by sun-warmed railings, before settling in front of the closed door to the galley. You hesitate for only a moment. The evening sun glares off the porthole window and prevents you from peeking into the room beyond, but you know the man you seek is in there. Sanji is almost always in the kitchen now that he has the freedom to experiment with new recipes as he pleases. 

When you first enter the galley, it’s with the intention of keeping the Going Merry’s chef company. Sanji’s easy going nature is addicting. Friendly and flirtatious conversations with him always leave you glowing golden—brighter than the sun. His comfort as he works in the kitchen, his joy for what he does, is contagious. Oftentimes, you find yourself at the door to the galley, having had no plan to walk there. You seek out his company whenever you’re given the chance, consciously or not. 

You hadn’t meant to develop such a large crush on the chef. He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a crewmate. A friend. You had been wary of the flirt when he joined the Straw Hats. His first impression left you with his self confidence and charm but no glimpse of his care for friends and strangers alike. You never could have expected how easily the newest member would wiggle his way into your heart. 

You take a breath, then step into the room hidden behind the door. 

Sanji is exactly where you expect him to be, flitting around the kitchen as he begins preparations for dinner. When he hears the door open, he turns your way, a smile pulling at his lips as soon as he sees it’s you.

“Hello, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but he slows, keeping his gaze on you. “Are you hungry?”  

“Not yet. I just wanted to keep you company,” you say, making your way farther into the kitchen. A part of you can’t help but think Sanji must get lonely in the galley after having spent so much time surrounded by others at the Baratie, but he never complains. 

The other part of you worries that Sanji actually prefers the time alone, and that your presence in the kitchen is unwelcomed. The Going Merry isn’t a particularly large ship, and finding a moment to be alone can be difficult. 

“Then today I am a lucky man,” he replies. His smile never falters, eyes gleaming as though he truly does feel lucky to spend time with you. It’s enough to dispel any lingering worries, at least for the time being. 

You warm beneath the weight of his gaze, heartbeat fluttering from the sudden attention. For a moment you forget yourself, too lost in the twin seas trapped in Sanji’s eyes. Your own lips pull into a matching smile and you feel like you’re glowing, just like you always do when he gives you his attention. Sanji’s gaze seems to soften, as if, somehow, he can see the light burning in your chest. 

If you don’t move now, you’ll sink too deeply into this feeling, you’ll get too wrapped up in your not so little crush. 

You take a step forward, then another. Your feet carry you to one of the seats at the counter, keeping the island between you. Sanji’s gaze still washes over you, but at least this way, no matter how tempting it may be, you won’t find yourself reaching out to him. You won’t tangle your fingers between his own, won’t run your spare hand through his hair or cradle the soft curve of his cheek, won’t lean in to kiss his still grinning lips. 

The evening sun filters through the galley windows, gleaming off cookware and pooling on the countertops. Your seat is strategically situated in the center of one of those pools, the hazy light casting a warm beam across your skin. You sink into its embrace, growing more relaxed with each slow breath you take. The warmth is like a hug, and you can’t help but to settle into it. 

You fold your arms on the countertop and rest your chin on them, easing into a comfortable position. You could fall asleep like this. 

Oftentimes, you offer to help Sanji cook, not wanting to be in the galley without at least being useful, but today you seem to be slipping—too relaxed, too tired, content just to watch the chef in his element. You’re only half aware of what he is doing as he works. 

“Here,” Sanji says, setting a glass down in front of you. “Try this.”

Small bubbles rise from the liquid inside, popping as they reach the surface. When you take a sip, it’s cool and saccharine, flavors mixing to create the perfect balance.  

“Oh! It’s good,” you praise before taking another sip. You have to set the glass down, wanting to savor the drink Sanji made just for you. “Everything you make is good.” 

“You’re too sweet to me, darling.” 

His words make you smile, but you keep your attention on the glass in front of you, too afraid that if you look at him he will see in your eyes just how deep your affections lie.

Beads of condensation have already formed on the outside of the glass, making the fizzy liquid inside look almost cloudy. You trail your finger through the moisture on the smooth surface, the cool liquid dripping down your fingertip leaving a clear path behind your touch, a curve into a point. Reflect and repeat. When you pull your hand away, a little heart remains. 

The blonde chef leaves you feeling like a lovesick fool—as sticky sweet as the drink he made you. 

This moment is too easy, too safe. You hardly notice the way your eyelids weigh heavy, each blink lasting longer than the one before it. The sounds of chopping vegetables and boiling water begin to fade, barely noticeable as sleep creeps ever closer.  

“As flattered as I am that you want to keep me company even when you’re so tired, I must insist that you find a more comfortable place to nap. I’ve heard that pain is beauty, but beauty sleep should never cause someone as sweet as you to wake up in pain.” 

If you weren’t already so close to sleep, Sanji’s words might have sent your heart racing. He thinks you’re sweet too. 

“I’ll be fine, Sanji. It’s just a little cat nap,” you offer, only half aware of what you’re saying.  

You don’t hear if he responds. 

—♡—

It’s a chill seeping into your skin that starts to wake you up. The ocean air isn’t really that cold, but the absence of the sun on your skin creates a change in temperature stark enough to make you sigh in disappointment. What once felt like a soft embrace now feels like a missing piece. 

There’s the sound of something being whisked, or stirred, the only evidence you have that you aren’t alone in the galley.  

You stretch your arms out to your sides, groaning slightly at the stiffness in your shoulders. Sanji was right, your body does hurt. You keep your eyes closed as you stretch, desperately clinging to those last moments of sleep as you work out the aches in your muscles.  

“Hmm. It’s cold now,” you mumble. The stirring sound stops. 

The creeping sense of cold doesn’t have long to settle over you. Before you can continue to complain about the movement of the sun, something heavy and warm is draped over your shoulders. The heat of your skin sinks into the fabric before it is reflected back at you, just like the sun. It feels like a blanket. At the very least, it offers the comfort of one. 

You pull the fabric closer around you, feel the curl of a collar around your neck and the holes for sleeves catch on your shoulders—definitely not a blanket. The fabric of Sanji’s jacket is smooth and well made, the quality much better than most of the crew’s clothing.  

What is this made of? You want to ask. Boyfriend material? 

But where flirtation spills naturally from Sanji’s lips, it only ever sounds awkward and stilted from yours. You leave the words unsaid, choosing instead to offer a simple “thank you.” 

“You seemed quite content. It would be a shame for you to grow cold simply because the sun doesn’t understand how much you appreciate it.” 

Finally, you open your eyes. 

Sanji leans on the counter beside you, offering you a soft smile. It’s subdued, as if he himself isn’t even aware he’s doing it. He looks good like this—he always looks good. He looks at ease right now, like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Or with anyone else.   

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but for just a little while, you can almost let yourself believe that he feels the same way about you. Why else would he look at you like that, with such fondness?  

“So you decided to keep me warm instead?” you prod. 

“Of course,” he responds without hesitation. “I can’t bring you the sun, but I can offer you this.”  

Of course. He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if he couldn’t ever bring himself to consider an alternative. 

You feel warm again, glowing. 

a/n: I’m planning on writing a second part to this. Hopefully it won’t take too long ^_^

[jamminvroomvroom]

helping hand.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re getting ready for a date and lando knows it’s a waste of time

back with more lando brainrot :D obsessed with best friend!lando atm, on a bit of a roll with the writing so send me your ideas! lemme know what you think! 🫶

songs to set the mood: kiss me more by doja cat, moth to a flame by the weeknd, i think by tyler, the creator, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! porn with plot, smut, fluff, angst if you squint? choking, biting like once, best friend!lando

2.9k words

a key turning in the lock made you jump, groaning when you realised who it was. lando had been home for a few days now, it was about time he showed up. he’d had a key since you moved in.

you know, for emergencies.

he’d already called you a few times that day, and you’d let it ring out each time. talking to lando while you were supposed to be getting ready for a date was never a good idea. it would be end up being his face you’d imagine sipping wine on the other side of the table, his face you’d picture when you fell messily into bed while someone else’s hands roamed your body, his face you would hope to see when your eyes fluttered open the next morning.

so, yeah. answering the phone was a recipe for disaster.

you scurried across the floor in the heels you were trying to break in, scavenging for your robe to cover your bare skin. by the time the door swung open, you’d managed to disappear into your bedroom, bare skin somewhat covered.

“why don’t you answer your phone?” you heard lando whinging down the hallway.

“i’m getting ready to go out, didn’t see your call.” you called back. it was a blatant lie but he didn’t need to know that.

“oooh, girls night out?” you could hear his footsteps getting closer and then he appeared in the doorway.

he looked cosy, bundled up in a thick jacket layered over a hoodie. a beanie covered most of his curls, a few hanging loose over his eyes. the cold weather had left him flushed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. you, on the other hand, were wearing much less, a silky robe covering soft pink lingerie. your makeup was half done, an outfit strewn together on your bed.

“nope. got a date.” you replied, grabbing your eyeshadow brush. you tried not to look at him too much, otherwise you’d never get out the door.

you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you, eyes half bulging out of his head. this was too much skin, too much much everything, the lingerie that was covering not a lot telling him information that made his stomach twist. he pulled it together, clearing his throat.

“not that finance guy again, surely.” lando teased, shedding his coat and hat at the end of your bed. your sigh confirmed that, yes, it was that finance guy again.

“i’m just trying to see where it goes. he’s not that bad.” you reasoned, dropping the brush back onto your vanity. your eyelids were shimmering under the light, but all you could focus on was the image of your best friend sprawled out on your bed, watching you watch him.

“trust me, sweetie, he seems it.” lando quipped, sarcastic sympathy spilling from his quirked up lips. “so are you going out like that?” he laughed, eyeing your half dressed body. in all your years of friendship, he’d seen a lot more of you, and that’s why you hadn’t kicked him out screaming, or shied away. you ignored the sick and twisted feeling that you wanted* him to see you like this

“no,” you drew the word out, slow, as if you were making fun of him. “actually, you’re laying all over my outfit.” you raised an eyebrow, still holding eye contact with him through the mirror.

“damn,” he breathed through his teeth. “someones tryna get laid.” lando picked up the sheer top in one hand, the mini skirt in the other, a knowing look on his smug, beautiful, evil face.

“shut up!” you threw an eye pencil at him, but he ducked successfully. “listen, some of us have needs, okay? we can’t all be super famous formula 1 drivers.”

“well, i’m just saying. you don’t need to waste your time on stock bro steve if all you need is a shag.” lando was smirking now, and you were blushing redder than a ferrari.

“be quiet, you.” you scoffed.

you tried to shake off his words, but you couldn’t quite help the way your thighs clenched at what he was implying.

“i mean it. you have other options.” lando was sat up now, resting against your headboard, intently watching the way you were fumbling through your makeup bag.

“if i had other options, lando, i would have explored them by now. trust me.” you sounded frustrated, and lando was beyond intrigued.

“that bad, huh? how longs it been?” he was looking at you intently, craving an answer. the dim lighting couldn’t disguise the blush on your face and he was loving it.

“piss off.” you mumbled.

“you can tell me, sweetie. i don’t bite. unless you’re into that.”

another eyebrow pencil went flying in his direction.

“fuck you.”

“is that what you wanna do? i don’t have anywhere to be.” he was killing himself laughing at you, watching you squirm.

“a couple months.” you muttered.

“oh, honey.” lando cooed.

“why do you even care about this?” you whined, shaky hands fighting to unscrew your mascara.

“because i don’t like the idea of that dickhead touching you.” he said it so nonchalantly, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“lando-“

“am i reading this wrong? because something tells me that he’s not the one you want touching you.”

you watched, bewildered, as he pushed himself off your mattress, stalking towards you. he shrugged his hoodie off, adding it to his pile of garments at the end of the bed.

“what are you doing?” you questioned, dropping the mascara onto the table, sitting up straighter in anticipation.

“tell me now that it’s him you want.” he was getting closer and closer.

“i- i dont-“

“c’mon, sweetheart, tell me, and i’ll let you get ready in peace.”

he was right behind you now, body heat radiating against your back, goose bumps littering your bare shoulder where your robe had slipped.

“i don’t want him.” you whispered.

“who do you want? did you miss me as much as i missed you?”

“i always miss you.” you whispered.

“and yet, you’re getting ready for another man to fuck you, honey, when i’m right here.”

“what do you- lando, what are you doing?” you rambled, hands flat on your vanity, as if you were trying to ground yourself. you were shaking.

“helping you. is that okay, honey? do you want me to help you?” he spoke so softly, you could feel your legs quivering.

“yes.” you breathed and the way his eyes darkened made your thighs clench even harder.

lando leaned over you, until his head rested in the crook of your neck, hands finding your waist. he pulled you up from your stool, kicking it along the floor so that nothing separated you. you were flush against him, his nose nuzzling against your cheek. and then he was kissing your skin, your neck exposed to his assault. he trailed his lips over the taut flesh, teeth scraping that spot just below your ear.

all you could do was stare, disbelief in your eyes as you watched him touch you, hands pulling your hips into his. you’d wondered, now and then, if this would ever happen, and now here you were, falling into his touch like it was made to be all over your body.

lando turned you around, dropping you on the vanity. he crouched down in front you, pulling your ankle into his hands. nimble fingers worked over the clasp, fiddling with the buckle while he kissed over the sensitive skin of your thighs. one shoe dropped to the floor, and he made quick work of the other, lips trailing further and further up your legs. the bastard had the nerve to keep eye contact the entire time, and you keened at his touch, jolting when he moved under the hem of your robe.

lando pulled away, despite your groan of protest. he tugged you off the dresser, spinning you back to face the mirror, one of his hands slipping down your legs and finding your knee, picking you up and planting it on the dresser. you were spread out for him, now, sprawled out in front of the mirror.

“let’s get this off, yeah?” he whispered, hands smoothing over the silky material of your robe. it slipped off easily, one tug at the tie and it was on the floor, leaving you clad in your set. “all for me, right?”

“do something.” you gasped out, one of your hands thrown back to thread through his curls.

“all for me, right?” he repeated, biting down on your neck.

“yes, god, please.” you whimpered, needier for him than the guy you’d spent all afternoon getting ready for, yet you couldn’t spare him a thought when lando was toying with you like this.

“‘m gonna fuck you like this, make you watch so that you learn your lesson.”

“what lesson?” you choked out.

“that i’m the only one that can satisfy you like this.” he mumbled, so matter of fact.

“prove it.”

he liked the challenge, it seemed, because his hand was inside your panties before you could breathe. you could see his fingers working over you, the skimpy lace doing nothing to hide his movements. you arched into him the second he found your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure eating away at you and your ability to control yourself.

“eyes open.”

you tried your hardest, but it was near impossible when he was working over your pussy like he’d done it a million times, like he already knew the ins and outs of your body, what made you tick. you cried out when he slipped a finger in you, the action simultaneous with his free hand finding a home at the base of your throat.

“no wonder you can’t find someone to get you off, no one’s ever fucked some manners into you.” he growled into your ear, and your eyes shot open. his grip tightened, a second finger sliding through your wetness. “you’re gonna listen to me from now on, baby, or you get nothing.”

“‘m trying.” you breathed, slurring your words already. if only you’d done this sooner.

“not hard enough, clearly.” he was grinding his fingers in harder, deeper, palm flat against your clit. you were panting out moans, heart beating so hard you could hear it in your ears, and now that you’d obeyed, eyes as wide as they could be, you couldn’t take them off his. he looked so smug, so pretty as he had his way with you, and you loved it, the way he was watching you sending an extra shot of heat to the pleasure pooling in your belly.

“is this what you needed, honey? do you think he could have done better? bet he couldn’t even make you come.” lando spat, fucking you even faster somehow. you felt drunk.

“no, lando. you’re so good.” you whined, pushing your ass back into him again.

you could feel how hard he was, taken aback at how filthy he was being, how dominant he was. you never could have imagined this, and honestly, you’d tried.

“you gonna come for me, sweetie? i can feel how bad you want it.” lando coaxed your orgasm out of you, your soft tummy tightening as you clamped down on his fingers. his thumb found your clit, circles left on the glistening flesh and all you could do was pray the hand wrapped around your neck would keep you upright.

one last flick of the wrist had you screaming, gushing all over his fingers. you could feel yourself dripping, your slick painting your inner thighs as you came, and he helped your through it. slow strokes brought you down from your high, and you slumped backwards into his arms.

“i’m not done yet.” he groaned, fingers dragged out of your panties and into his mouth. you watched the way his tongue licked over the digits, stomach fluttering at the sinful sight.

“good.” you replied, reaching behind you to search for the button of his jeans. he laughed lowly, batting your hands away.

“i’ll do the work, you deserve it.” his hand cupped your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing him, your body still facing the mirror.

you looked between his eyes and his lips, and he did the same, taking in your tired features, the lazy smile on your lips. you wanted him to kiss you, wanted to see if that drove you as crazy as everything else he’d done. you were quickly proved right. he slotted his lips over yours, your nose bumping his. a quiet moan sounded from the back of his throat and you shivered, deepening the kiss. his tongue moved with yours deliciously, sweet mint lingering in his mouth.

“need you.” you muttered against his lips, your words swallowed by the lingering kiss. he hummed in agreement, prying himself away from your swollen lips, his lack of self control making it harder than necessary. the faint trace of his lips made you delirious, and you feared you’d always crave more now that you’d had a taste.

“i’ve got you, honey. hands flat for me.”

you positioned yourself how he wanted, your palms flat against the vanity. he pushed your knee across the surface, makeup that you couldn’t care less about clattering to the ground. one of his hands snaked around your body, toying with the lace of your bra as he grabbed a handful of your breast. you watched the way his strong grip held you in place, breathing shakily when his free hand dipped between your thighs. you could see how wet you were when he tugged the flimsy lace aside, cupping your cunt one last time to spread your wetness around.

you heard the zip of his jeans, the rustle of clothing, your eyes rolling back as he kissed behind your ear. he slid into your slowly, feeling every part of him as he went deeper and deeper. the stretch made your tear up, the way he was filling you up scratching a itch that you hadn’t been able to satisfy in far too long.

“oh.” you gasped, clenching around him. he hissed at the sensation, grip tightening on your chest.

“that is the tightest fucking thing.” he moaned, thick neck on display as he bottomed out. “no one’s fucked you properly, have they, baby?”

“need it, lando.” you tried to push your hips back, tried to feel him even deeper somehow, but he held you down.

he moved slow, feeling you out, looking for a rhythm. you couldn’t breathe, watching the way he could barely keep his eyes open. you were obsessed, never so thankful for him barging into your apartment uninvited.

as fucking good as it felt, you needed more, just a bit more, desperate to not be able to walk after. you grabbed his hand, guiding it up your body, meeting his eyes in the mirror as you placed it at the base of your throat. a look was exchanged, one of pleading, and trust, and maybe even a little bit of something else, and everything in him changed.

your back collided with his front, the pressure on your neck and the power of his thrust making you dizzy. the pace was rapid, hips hitting yours with a point to prove. you mouth hung open, unable to take your eyes off the way his body rolled against yours. this was addictive, so far clear of any sex you’d ever had, maybe even of any you’d have again.

“so good for me. not gonna be able to forget those pretty eyes watching me.” he slurred, breathing heavily into your ear.

you nodded frantically, begs for more, please, more tumbling from your lips.

“no more dates. no more of these little boys trying to get you off. it’s gonna be me from now on.”

“better be.” you choked out, your head falling into the crook of his neck.

“that’s right, baby. gonna watch me make you come?” he crooned into your ear.

and you did, eyes locked with his once again as he finished you off. you were slick with sweat, trying to catch your breath.

“good?” he pressed a kiss to your hairline, slowly untangling himself from you.

“very.”

“let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

lando helped you off the vanity, carrying you back over to your bed and placing you on the end. you watched him look around for some clothes, but you stole his hoodie, the one he’d left on the end of the bed. his scent surrounded you as you slipped it over your head, spicy and sweet.

you heard your phone buzzing, reaching around for it blindly but lando got to it first. the shit eating grin he wore made you sweat, eyes widening in horror when it dawned on you.

“stock market steve’s wondering where you are. think i should set him straight.” he teased.

“lando, don’t-“ you couldn’t even stop him, your body aching too much.

“hello?” lando sing songed down the line and you hid your face in your hands. “as much as i just know she’d love to hear you talk about how many watches you have and then finish in six seconds, she’s occupied.” and with that, he put the phone down.

“you are so lucky i can’t walk right now.” you threatened, flopping back onto your bed. he was quickly hovering over you, resting above you on his forearms.

“care to make it worse?” he grinned mischievously, and you knew that you were well and truly done for, ruined for anybody else.

“do your best.”

lord knows, he did.

-

hehe

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @kapsylia @youdontknowmeshh

removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed 🫶

[slut4thebroken]

The Recipe

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett can’t keep his hands off you.

Warnings | Smut, praise, degradation, semi rough sex, breeding, cunnilingus, huuuge housewife kink, he’s very possessive but we love it

Words | 2k

Notes | Finally posting something 😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

moodboard @liliesdiary

“That smells amazing, doll, what is it?” He walked over and gave you a quick kiss before finally setting down his bag, then taking off his jacket and hat. 

“I’m trying to recreate that one pasta dish we had when we went to that fancy place a few months ago cause I keep craving it.” You smiled, keeping your focus on the stove. He did his best to stay out of your way in the small kitchen as he walked past you to get to the fridge and grab a beer. 

“Fuck- and this dress.” He groaned. You heard a can open, then he was walking closer and smacking your ass. You had to bite your lip to control your sounds, not wanting to get distracted and mess up the meal when you were finally almost done making it. “I didn’t forget a date, did I?” He wrapped his arm around your stomach and nuzzled into your neck, teasingly kissing over it. 

“No.” You chuckled. “I got lunch with Evelyn earlier.” You could practically feel the pout on his lips against your neck. 

“You went out wearing this without me? All of the guys were probably all over you.” He grumbled. 

“Emmett, this town is tiny. Everyone knows we’re married.” 

“As if that’d stop them.” He scoffed, even though it seemed like he also knew he was being a little irrational. 

“Go wash up. I should be done in a few minutes.” He groaned and tightened his grip around you, beginning to kiss your neck more enthusiastically. “Emmett..” You warned, making him huff but step away to go do what you said. 

Once the table was set, you filled up two plates and set them down, then grabbed your own drink as Emmett walked back in. Dinner was mostly uneventful. He told you about work, you told him about the gossip that Evelyn shared with you. He told you about his latest idea for how to improve the house, you told him he had to finish his current project before starting a new one. 

“How was it?” You asked, taking both plates to the sink. 

“Amazing, doll. Tasted exactly like the  restaurant’s.” 

You scoffed a laugh, hearing him chuckle quietly. “You’re a shit liar.” 

“It was still good either way.” 

“Do you want to do the dishes or should I?” You and Emmmett had a system; either one person cooked and the other cleaned, or one person cooked and cleaned and the other did the same the next day.

“I think I’ll make that steak you got, so you go ahead.” He said, knowing that you didn’t know how to clean a grill. “Plus I want to watch you in that dress.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. 

“I don’t know why I married such a pervert.” You scoffed teasingly as you put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher before starting to handwash the larger dishes. 

“I do.” He paused, walking right up behind you. “Cause you like it. You like that I can’t keep my hands off you.” He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back so your ass was pressed firmly against the bulge in his jeans. 

“Emmett, let me finish the dishes, then we can move on to that.” You chuckled, still trying to wash everything. 

“I’m not stopping you.” He said simply. His hands dragged down the outsides of your thighs, then back up, pushing the fabric of your dress up to your waist. “Fuck…” He groaned, roughly groping the globes of your ass that were left bare because of your lace thong. You bit your lip and tried to stay focused, but it was getting increasingly more difficult. 

“Are you gonna be a good little wife and let me use you?” He smirked, quickly opening his jeans to remove his already half hard cock. 

“Emmett…” You said through a breath. You couldn’t tell if you were begging him to keep going or warning him to stop though.

“C’mon, baby. I deserve to fuck my girl after a long day of work.” You cursed under your breath and let your head drop down as you held onto the counter. “Do the dishes.” He chastised teasingly. He waited until you continued, then slid your panties to the side and lined up. 

Your knees buckled and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan when he finally pushed in. “Fuck,” You choked out. The stretch was a little uncomfortable, especially in this position, but you were mewling and pushing your hips back into his regardless. 

“Do the dishes.” He said firmly, placing a sharp smack on your ass. “I won’t tell you again.” You let out a low moan at the dominance in his voice. As soon as you continued washing, he was slowly dragging out and pushing back in. Your legs were already shaking and your breathing was already fast and uneven as you tried to cope with the overwhelming pleasure. 

“You make such a perfect little housewife.” He murmured, brushing your hair over one shoulder so he could start kissing the side of your neck. He left marks up and down, his grip tightening on your hips almost painfully. “Cook and clean for me… take my cock whenever I want… You'll even give me some kids when I ask, won’t you?” You sobbed out a moan and let your head fall back on his shoulder. He slapped the side of your thigh, making you whimper loudly at the sting. “Don’t make me tell you again.” He growled. 

With a whine, you lifted your head again and resumed washing. Honestly you were doing a shit job and you’d probably have to do it again once he was done with you. 

“So obedient.” He cooed, gently nipping at your neck. You knew he was just saying all of this for the sake of the scene— Emmett can be old fashioned, but he’s not that old fashioned. Regardless, the longer his cock stayed buried inside you, the more you didn’t mind being his housewife and cock sleeve. 

You almost dropped the pot into the sink when he suddenly sped up. But finally, you finished rinsing the last of the dishes and set it on the towel you laid out earlier. 

“Good girl.” Pulling you to a clear space on the counter, he pushed you down with a hand on the back of your neck and started wildly bucking into you. You almost screamed from the intensity, already feeling your legs turning to jelly, making it harder to hold yourself up. 

Desperately needing to come, you tried to push a hand down to rub your clit, but he twisted your arm behind your back and pinned it there. “If you want to touch my property, you fucking ask.” He growled, his voice only making you needier. 

“Please let me come, Emmett.” You whimpered. He lifted his hand from your neck and brought it down hard on your ass, making you cry out. Without giving any other response, he grabbed your hip as his thrusts grew even more frantic. You could tell he was getting close, especially with the way his sounds started getting louder, and you almost cried at the thought of not getting to come. But… the thought of being nothing more than a submissive housewife and a hole for your husband to use was hot enough that you almost didn’t care. 

You mewled and squirmed a little, making his grip on your body tighten even more. “Please.” You gasped out. His balls were just barely smacking your clit with each thrust, not giving you nearly enough stimulation. Both hands were on your hips now as he bucked into you at a brutal pace, chasing his orgasm. The slapping of skin and both of your moans echoed throughout the kitchen and if you were less horny, you probably would’ve been embarrassed by the faint squelching sound you could hear as your arousal continued to soak his cock. 

His hips stuttered and you whined when he suddenly slammed into you, pushing you into the counter almost painfully as he fell over the edge. Your legs were shaking with each pump of his hips as he lazily fucked his load deep inside your eager pussy. He was grunting and panting against your neck, holding your hips in a bruising grip until he rode out his orgasm completely. 

“Good girl.” He groaned breathily, making you whine again. Only after he caught his breath did he lean up and slowly drag his hips back, making the trembling of your legs even worse. He kicked your feet apart and grabbed your ass to pull you open so he could watch his come trickle out of your puffy folds. 

“Emmett.” You whimpered, but all he did was shush you quietly. Your hips flinched when he dragged his thumb through your slit and he cursed under his breath at the sight of you leaking his come. 

“Oh, look at that.” He cooed, making you blush. “This is how you should’ve gone out today; wearing this slutty little dress with my come dripping down your thighs to remind you who you belong to.” He gruffed. 

“Emmett, please.” You were on the verge of a tantrum now. 

“Shh… It’s okay.” He murmured quietly, standing back up. He pulled you up by your hair and spun you around, then captured your lips in a bruising kiss. “Is my good girl gonna let me have my dessert now?” You nodded dumbly, not really processing his words because you just hoped that agreeing to whatever he said would get him to finally give you some much needed relief. He smirked in amusement, then effortlessly lifted you up so your legs were around his hips, letting him carry you over to the table and gently set you down on it. 

Kneeling between your legs, he wasted no time diving in and sucking on your clit, making you cry out. Your hands settled in his hair and he alternated between lapping up your shared arousal and giving attention to your clit. When he draped your legs over his shoulders and then pulled you closer, you moaned loudly and laid down on the table, your back arching up from the pleasure. Emmett let out a low, gravelly moan against you, making you mewl and tug on his hair even harder. 

“Fuck— Please don’t stop..” You choked out. He devoured you like a man starved, quickly bringing you back to the edge with his enthusiasm. The loud slurping sounds that you could hear through your moans, had you blushing and whining in embarrassment. 

Your legs were trembling on either side of his head, the coil in your stomach was tightening, your moans were getting louder… and Emmett just held your hips down, continuing on, not deterred by any of your reactions. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered, moaning loudly when he sucked on your clit repeatedly. His lack of a response only made you even more frustrated. Emmett was a little unpredictable about letting you come. Sometimes he didn’t care, but sometimes he could be really controlling over your orgasm, only letting you come after he gave you permission. Ever since the first time you came without permission, you’ve always been hesitant, not wanting to risk being punished. “Emmett, please!”  

He chuckled against you, making your hips jerk against his mouth. “Come.” He mumbled, not bothering to pause or pull away so he could talk. When you finally got his permission, you let the pleasure wash over you, no longer trying to suppress it. The knot of arousal in your stomach snapped suddenly and you sobbed out a moan as your back arched off the table. You had a death grip on Emmett’s hair and your hips were practically grinding on his face, but he worked you through it, not stopping until you were twitching and whining from overstimulation. 

“Good girl.” He groaned, placing one last kiss on your clit. “C’mere, doll.” He helped pull you up into a seated position, then kissed you again, much softer this time. You moaned at the taste of yourself still on his tongue. “Fuck, I love you.” He muttered into the kiss, making you blush a little. “But the next time you go out wearing this dress without my come dripping down your thighs, you won’t be coming for a week.” 

Guys pls give me ideas for a different title lol

[astro-royale]

AstrologyObservations:15

Disclaimer: my opinion✨✨✨888💸💸💸$£$£

People with no Leo placements may find it unearthing and uncomfortable to speak of topics of fame or popularity. They typically think it is bigheaded, they may not see the point of it and so it is assumed to be done/said as an act of acquiring validation.

People with Scorpio or Pluto placements may find it enjoyable to talk about reaching or having power over crowds of people but not necessarily about being seen, they care more about respect or being looked up to,

I have venus opposite Uranus and I highly relate to individuals who have Uranus in Libra or Uranus in 7th house.

People with a lot of cancer in their chart, I advise you to be careful of having casual relationships, because of your caring and loving nature

I think Libra and Leo make such great friends!! there may be a friendly competitive vibe but overall it’s very wholesome and cute and they typically really care for each other.

People with Aquarius placements or degrees have dyed their hair at least once or have had extreme haircuts/styles.

A lot of Leo/Cancer combo in the chart is a recipe for 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁✨✨✨✨Victim Complex/DramaQueen✨✨✨✨

Gemini and Virgo reply to texts in their head

I can feel Scorpio placements through the screen

Sagittarius x Aries friendship could have a lot of great humour and make each other laugh all day. They bounce off of each others energy.

I think a combination of Aquarius, Scorpio, Virgo and Cancer in the chart is a sign of people who get into spiritual healing or may feel like they don’t fit in because of the spirituality. Either way their line of work may have to do with healing and wanting to cause a big impact in that way.

Man… Sagittarius is so observant, they will smile at you knowing they have you figured out. Actually, some will call it out on the spot and some will just keep that to themselves.

Sagittarius is the type to keep a conversation going even if they don’t agree because it’s funny,,

Taurus And Sag may be good clubbing/going out buddies. They match each others energy when it comes to having a good time.

Libra wearing black tights🙏🙏🙏

Man.. why are Pisces so mysterious, especially in crowd settings…even the extraverted ones.

Mercury in Libra>>> family mediator

Cancer will lie to themselves at times because they enjoy being a good person even if it creates negative consequences.

Pisces with Scorpio placements in a guy can give that Neighbourhood/S3x after cigarettes vibe

Men with Gemini placements love Hawaiian shirts???I’ve seen it so often.

Pisces with Gemini placements can give a surfer boy look.

Pisces and beanie hats?? They love them.

water sign men (especially water moon) have such dreamy romantic eyes.

Fire sign men have sharp determined eyes

Earth sign men have relaxed eyes or straight up bedroom eyes

Air sign Men have cold looking eyes, glass looking or straight up intimidating. Icy.

Scorpio men with a Leo rising may have good hair when they’re older or they will invest in hair care a lot. They’re the type to also look young when they’re older.

[tender-rosiey]

Gojo's son saying his first word PLEASEE🫂🫂🫂

team up — gojo satoru x f!reader

“why do we need so much groceries?” your husband grumbles, watching you try to pick between two types of honey which he, to be honest, thinks are exactly the same.

you seem to have chosen one and finally place it in the cart before sassing him, “because a certain someone wasted all of our food on an experiment that was obviously going to fail.”

you then rub both your and your son’s noses together and coo, “right, sweetie?”

as if to answer you, he lets out a small laugh accompanied by a happy squeal and it makes both of your hearts clench even if it meant being teamed up on for gojo.

“well, you should be more supportive of my creations! what if I made a recipe that enabled me to become a three-star michelin chef?”

you smile softly at your dear husband, “hell would freeze over first.”

dear idiotic husband.

he whines and throws himself on you, “why are you so mean?!”

“you like it that way though, don’t you?” you tease, but you quickly lose your composure when your husband starts tickling you.

“sa—satoru! we are—we are outsi—de! behave!” you try to say between your laughs and wheezes, but your husband doesn’t look like he is stopping anytime soon.

he even has the audacity to start smothering your face in kisses, “well, maybe if you weren’t so cute then I wouldn’t have such a hard time holding myself back!”

you try to push him away; however, it just results in him picking you up and twirling you around a bit before placing you on the ground.

the two of you can’t stop laughing, while you just bury your face in his shoulder in the process and he buries his own in your hair placing a gentle kiss on it.

you guys stay in each other embrace for a while.

at least until, gojo feels a little smack on his hip. he then looks down to see that his son, who is in the cart, was the culprit, “what’s wrong, buddy?”

the little boy frowns before pulling on his dad’s shirt multiple times, “b-ave!”

“huh?”

you blink multiple times before picking your son up, “I think he wanted to say ‘behave’.”

a moment of silence passes, and it’s followed by your unstoppable laughter and your husband’s pale face because he found out that he has been scolded by his own baby.

“I seriously need to migrate from this country; I can’t handle the hate from your mother now I have to take it from you too?” gojo complains before summoning a hat and placing it on his head, “I will go and leave you guys to get some milk.”

he feels a tiny grip on his shoulder this time and looks at your son who is nestled in your arms comfortably.

the little boy pulls his father towards him with all his might (which isn’t much), but his dad indulges and is now right beside you with an automatic arm around your waist.

“yes?”

you rest your head on gojo’s shoulder, waiting and anticipating what your son will say next.

you were not disappointed.

“‘t-toru dum’!”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[mangekyuou]

If you are up to it and haven’t already done it. Could you pretty please write head cannons of the kid, heart, and straw hat pirates as parents. My favorite one is killer.

★ THEM AS PARENTS! headcanons ★

── featuring. sanji. zoro. kid. killer.

── cw. gn!reader. no pronouns used. no mentions of pregnancy. whole cake island and wano spoilers. me rambling again. not proofread.

── notepad. usually my limit is 3 but i added one more bcuz i felt inspired. it’s been awhile since ive written so i feel out of practice and these feel all over the place im so sorry. but i will say, i love you girl dad zoro and killer. i could talk about them forever

★ VINSMOKE SANJI ★

── unlike everyone else, sanji HAS thought about settling down and having kids. he thinks about it at least twenty times a day. every time he looks at you, he’s always thinking about your future together

── so when your twin boy and girl show up in your lives, he couldn’t be happier. he’s never been happier. life is finally coming together the both of you

── he loves your twins with all of his heart, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want any more children. he’s already dreamed of having a big family that he can share all of his love and care with. and because he already had at least four baby names picked out

── given his own upbringing that he never ever plans to tell your children about, sanji takes his fatherly role very seriously. he does everything in his power to be better than his own father

── never will he allow any of his children to take his surname. he would prefer if they took yours or even adopted a new one altogether

── never will there be any middle child syndrome or favoritism between your kids. he loves each of them equally and does pretty well at spreading out his time with each of them, making all of them feel loved and cared for

── every night he gives everyone a long tearful good night before sending them all their separate ways like he’s never going to see them again….they’re just down the hall

── he is a very emotional father. no matter what your children do, milestone or not, he will sob. first words and steps, sobbing. finally being able to dress themselves, sobbing. nearly setting the kitchen on fire attempting to make him a birthday cake, he sobbed all day and tried to eat the inedible cake despite you telling him NOT to

── he was sick for a few weeks after that. how the cake was both overcooked and undercooked at the same time, neither of you could ever figure it out

── his favorite family activity is cooking together. he loves cooking for each of you, but there’s something about teaching your little ones all of his favorite recipes, or even learning how to make a whole new dish altogether, that warms his heart. plus seeing them all get along and work together as a team brings joyful tears to his eyes

── but he can definitely be the indulgent parent. all his kids have to do is flash him the puppy eyes and a pout and he’s a goner, leaving you to play the authoritative parent and say no

── he is also the affectionate, embarrassing, and petty dad, always smothering the little ones in hugs no matter how old they get

── they could be in their late teens and he’ll still hug them the same as he did when they were small. or he’ll embarrass them in front of their friends by yelling how much he loves them and expects them to say ‘i love you’ back OR he’s not going to let them go anywhere

★ RORONOA ZORO ★

── girl dad

── the thought of being a dad never crossed his mind. he was focused on his goal at hand, becoming the greatest swordsman. he wasn’t exactly sure having a kid would fit in that

── but he was going to have to figure it out because resting in his arms was an infant girl with the most precious cheeks

── you don’t have to worry much about your daughter, even in infancy your daughter adopted your husband’s calm and quiet nature. she even adopted his napping habits

── if he’s asleep out on the deck in the sun, she’s asleep out on the deck, either in his chest or in his lap. and no one dares to wake them, especially not after that time when usopp and sanji were arguing too loud, causing your daughter to stir in her sleep, alerting zoro immediately. in a matter of seconds, he held your baby in one hand and his unsheathed sword in the other

── nap time is a VERY serious thing

── though your daughter’s favorite place to rest is on his back. no matter how awake she may seem, the minute he wraps her in the baby wrap, she’s suddenly very sleepy

── if you’re looking for your daughter and you don’t immediately see her, don’t panic. nine times out of ten, she’s on zoro’s back napping

── she is always present during his training sessions in a little swing franky made and surprised you both with that way he can train and keep an eye on her at the same time. maybe that’s why your little girl ended up showing so much interest in swords as she grew up

── like father, like daughter. your daughter began her road to being a swordsman with zoro as her teacher. he learns from his own past failures, in guiding her to be an even better swordsman than him

── not only giving her the skills she needs to wield a blade, but also skills she will need to grow as a person

── when he is sure he has trained her well enough for them to spar, he will do so without mercy. she may lose a number of times, but to never give up is a skill he instilled in her since the beginning of her training

── and when she finally does best her father, he cannot hide just how proud he is. he’s in all dad mode

★ EUSTASS KID ★

── kid never pictured being in a stable relationship, let alone settling down and having children. he didn’t have much experience with children

── in reality, being a father scared him. it was uncharted waters. he didn’t know the first thing about being a good dad. he knew kids were a lot of work, and he didn’t know if he could handle it

── more importantly, he was worried he was going to let both you and your child down. and he couldn’t live with that

── but here he was now struggling his way through the baby and toddler stages. but through his mistakes and errors, as opposed to getting angry and giving up, like he usually does, he’s gaining patience and trying his best. that’s all anyone could ever ask for

── he becomes a natural over time. no longer needing you to intervene to keep your son from crying up a storm. if it’s taking a little longer than usual to put your son to sleep, and you offer to help, he will decline. his stubbornness and pride won’t allow him to accept your help

── if there’s one thing kid hates more than anything, it’s anyone thinking he can’t take care of his son

── it’s not uncommon to see the captain of the kid pirates to be seen around the victoria punk your son strapped to his chest

── it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s barking out orders to the crew and your excitable little one is reaching up to pinch and pull at his father’s cheeks and nose

── kid claims to not be a dad who cries, but he definitely does cry, oftentimes more than you do

── your son’s first word is definitely a swear word. kid thinks it’s hilarious seeing your son scream fuck

── as your son ages, the more he becomes just like his father. and with age comes the attitude, which does not mesh well with kid’s attitude

── never in a million years would you think you would find kid losing a loud argument to your fussy toddler son about nothing

── and it does not change. it continues to get worse as your son begins to form his own opinions. your son and kid clash even more, leading you to be the mediator between their arguments

── or at points when they stop talking altogether, you have to relay messages to the other because they refuse to be in the same room with each other

── kid wants to start your son off young when it comes to training him, wanting the little one to be hell just like him. if your son expresses interest in learning how to fight, kid is overjoyed but does not plan to take it easy on him just because they’re blood

── if your son has no interest in fighting and wants to lead a peaceful life, kid will be disappointed and it will take some time for it to get out of his system. but he ultimately will support his son’s decisions

── kid has a habit of ruffling your son’s hair or knocking heads as his way of showing affection. that’s just how it has always been since he was born. but the day your son decides to leave the ship to start the new chapter of his life is the first time they share a real hug

★ KILLER ★

── killer is prime girl dad material. king of girl dads, if you will. he’s a natural. well, he becomes a natural after he gets over his fear of holding your daughter

── he has led a complicated life up to this point. it is not something he regrets, but it is something that he worries could affect his family

── these calloused hands have killed, been stained with the blood of dozens, he had lost count. these were not the hands that should hold such a pure soul

── the first time he actually held her was in the middle of the night when she woke up crying in the middle of the night. he pondered on waking you but decided against it seeing you sound asleep. it has been a while since you had gotten a good sleep. you deserved your rest

── he had watched you countless times lull your little one back to sleep. he remembered how you did it, trying his best to keep his shaky hands still, reaching into your little’s crib, gently taking her into his arms

── who knew saying “please don’t cry” in a sweet low voice would be enough to calm her ??

── quite a sight you awoke to, seeing your husband passed out in a chair with your daughter still asleep in his arms

── it became part of his routine, every time she woke up in the middle of the night, he was going to take care of it. when she was old enough to sleep in the bed with the two of you, you better believe she took her place in the middle and kept it well into her late childhood, early teens

── they are attached at the hip. wherever she is, he is and vice versa, no matter the situation

── like the one time the kid called for an emergency meeting and killer could not find you in time so he just took your daughter with him

── everyone was on their best behavior because you had already warned them that if her first word was a swear word you would murder each of them and spread their body parts across the grand line for the sea king to feast upon

── ….they were not going to take the chances

── just your luck, your daughter inherited killer’s luscious hair. no matter what you do to it, no matter how hard you attempt to gel it down, it shoots right back up

── but killer’s got it. he does her hair most days because she prefers it that way they end up matching

── there are two things about killer that he is still very sensitive about. his appearance and his laugh, both things he tries to hide from your daughter. though it is easier to hide his appearance than his laugh

── after everything happened in wano, he was ashamed. he couldn’t bear letting her see him like this. he wanted her to remember him the way he used to look. he wasn’t ready to show her, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready.

── until he was ready, he allows her to place her hands on his mask and put together what she thinks he looks like.

── currently, she envisions him to be a snake monster under his mask

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

Like I did with the moral alignments, I thought I would make a post about why and how I sort characters into Hogwarts Houses! There are also quizzes so you can figure it out for yourself as well. I go into detail about each House, what they represent, their background and what it means to be sorted into a certain House. 

I hope you enjoy!

*just because I’m talking about Harry Potter doesn’t mean I align with the transphobic views of J.K. Rowling. There is no room for transphobia on my page, and I support the trans and LGBTQIA+ community*

Figuring out which Hogwarts House you belong to has been around since the HP series came out. But I think there’s more to it than simply choosing to be in ‘the brave house’ or ‘the smart house.’ I think it reveals a lot about a person - or rather, a large aspect. 

Here are a few tests for you to try, comment below what you got!

Test 1 (the ‘official’ Wizarding World quiz)

Test 2 (from IDRlabs, they have other personality quizzes as well!)

Test 3 (Here’s the full Pottermore quiz. The 1st quiz will only have a few questions, so that’s why I don’t think it’s fully accurate to take)

Test 4 (A really good one from Quotev, the questions/answers aren’t obvious)

Gryffindor: Do what is right. Hufflepuff: Do what is kind.  Ravenclaw: Do what is wise. Slytherin: Do what is necessary.

𝐆𝐑𝐘𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑

“ Where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Fire

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor’, Godric Gryffindor. 

Dwelled at Godric’s Hollow

Was an accomplished dueller

A fair man, he believed that any child who displayed magical abilities before their 11th birthday should be able to attend Hogwarts.

Gryffindor was the original owner of the Sorting Hat

Gryffindor also had a sword made, which would present itself to any true Gryffindor in a moment of need.

He was allegedly the best friend of Slytherin before he left Hogwarts

Godric will always be known for his accomplished skills in battle, and his fight against Muggle discrimination in the wizarding world.

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Courage

Bravery

Standing up for what you believe in - even if your voice shakes. 

Caring about the greater good 

Daring/Bold 

Having a deep need to do the right thing 

Standing out from the crowd

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Lucy Pevensie

Thor

Mulan

Katniss Everdeen

Merida

Batman/Bruce Wayne

Buffy Summers

Chandler Bing

𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅

“ You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal. Those patient Hufflepuffs are true. And unafraid of toil. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Earth

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From valley broad,’ Helga Hufflepuff

A kind and warm woman who believed in loyalty, patience and hard-work as the best abilities a person can possess

Was a brilliant cook and had remarkable skills for preparing food. Her recipes are still used in Hogwarts to this day.

She brought the house-elves to Hogwarts

Owner of Hufflepuff’s Cup

She was the best friend of Rowena Ravenclaw

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Loyalty

A need for justice. A lot of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor traits are intertwined, but the difference is that Gryffindors don’t need to know a person to feel the need to look out for them. 

Patient 

Believe in fairness and equality (Helga Hufflepuff was the only founder who believed everyone should have a fair chance in being taught)

Accepting

Thinks about other people more than themselves

Would do anything at all, for family 

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Edmund Pevensie

Antman

Jay Gatsby

Okoye

Samwise Gamgee

Michael Scott

Alfred Pennyworth

Joey Tribbiani

Phoebe Buffay

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖

“ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you’ve a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Air

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From Glen,’ Rowena Ravenclaw

A sharp and intelligent woman

She wanted to make Hogwarts the finest wizarding school in the world, teaching only those with the highest intelligence 

Rowena wore a diadem that was said to grant wisdom to the wearer, however, Rowena’s own daughter grew jealous of her mother’s incredible intelligence. Helena Ravenclaw stole her mother’s diadem and ran away, a fact that Rowena kept hidden from her fellow founders even when she fell ill.

Wanting to see Helena before she died, Rowena sent a man to bring Helena home. Unfortunately, that man was the Bloody Baron, who was in love with Helena, and stabbed her in a rage when she refused to come home.

 After Helena was tragically killed, legend tells us that Rowena Ravenclaw died of a broken heart. 

She was the best friend of Helga Hufflepuff

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Intelligence

Wisdom

Witty

Open-minded - don’t mix well with traditional, close-minded people. Ravenclaws see the big picture, they think about what things could be, rather than what things are. 

They think outside of the box, they don’t like being confined by rules or traditions. 

Unique 

Individualistic/Original

Actually very intuitive

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Susan Pevensie

Sherlock Holmes

Bruce Banner

James Bond

Annabeth Chase

Mary Poppins

Gandalf

Monica Geller

Ross Geller

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍

“ Or perhaps in Slytherin, You’ll make your real friends. These cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Water

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From Fen’, Salazar Slytherin

He believed strongly that only wizards of pure blood 

This belief caused a big rift between the founders, especially Gryffindor, which led to the depature of Salazar 

Despite his flaws, Salazar was a talented wizard, skilled in Legilemency and Parseltongue

Before he left, however, he created the Chamber of Secrets

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Ambition

Determination

Cunning

Traditional

Strategic

Willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals; even using others for their gain. 

Not all Slytherins use these traits for personal gain, however, because the founder was evil - doesn’t mean every Slytherin is. 

Resourceful

Cleverness

Family means a lot to them

Desires respect

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Peter Pevensie

Natasha Romanoff

Daenerys Targaryen

Lady MacBeth

Wednesday Addams

Selina Kyle/Catwoman 

Rachel Green

Harley Quinn

[poraphia]

"Cooking Stream!"

➵ PAIRING! cc!wilbur x chef!streamer!reader

➵ CREATING! 12.22.23 | 3167 words

➵ CONTAINING! wholesome cooking, reader is a chef streamer, wil is on tour, wil and reader are longterm friends

➵ SAYING! i thought this would be super cute to write. a little friends to lovers never hurt anyone hehe. also hope you like the little banner! i dont really do those so this is a first. also not proofread aaa sorry

My masterlist :)

»»———-　　———-««

"How long have you been waiting to do that?" "Since we met up at the airport.."

“Hey, Wil, I’m about to start the stream. Are you ready?” I asked Wil. From my stream viewer, I could see Wil’s lengthy figure making the barest silhouette from the dark doorframe he was standing at. He insisted on making “an entrance” for my stream, even if it meant standing ominously in the background of my kitchen.

“Maybe.” Wil replied blankly. I rolled my eyes, seeing that he was already in ‘bit’ mode.

I’ve been a cooking streamer for quite some time now. I share and teach people on Twitch my recipes live and created this community where everyone can feel safe and happy to learn. Occasionally, I even invite some of my friends to cook with me, Wilbur being no exception. This was our first time seeing each other in person, and Wilbur suggested that before his concert (which would be tomorrow) he wanted to do a cooking stream with me. It was like the stars aligned because after such a busy day, Wil specifically had a couple hours of free time to hang out with my community and me.

I stopped my intro music and took down my startup stream screen to reveal my camera, which showcased me, my kitchen, and Wilbur who was just barely visible on camera.

“Hi, friends! Welcome to the stream! Sorry for the delay, our special guest sadly couldn’t make it.” I said faking a distraught frown. I tried my best to avoid looking at chat, but just from a quick glance I could see spams of terror as they pointed out the figure behind me. I picked up a bowl and began my usual intro. “So, my lovelies, grab your bowls!” I reached over and grabbed my spatula. “Grab your utensils! and—” I looked around, acting confused. “Huh, I wonder where my chef hat is..”

Wil arose from the shadows, stomping toward me with his limbs stiff and a blank expression on his face.

“Oh, there’s my chef hat!” I exclaimed, smiling while looking at Wil. In a swift, goofy motion, Wil ducked his head down, making the hat land straight into the bowl I was holding. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Wil tried a desperate attempt to put the hat on my head. Once the hat laid lopsided on me, he turned around with his hands on his hips.

“Hi guys,” he smiled. “As you can see, I will not be the one leading this operation.”

“Yeah, they know.” I mocked jokingly. I placed the bowl and spatula onto the table to fix the hat. “If you guys don’t know, this is Wilbur Soot, but he doesn’t stream much anymore. So frankly, I don’t even know why I invited him.” That snarky comment made Wil nudge me on the shoulder.

“Hey! I’m still relevant on the world web!” Wil exclaimed.

“You know I’m kidding!” I laughed. “But Wil and I met like a loooong way back. Like you were doing your little livestream concerts?” I turned to look at him as he nodded to confirm my words. “And now look at you! In the middle of a whole worldwide tour!” Though he rolled his eyes in response he still had that familiar, dimple smitten smirk on his face.

I was proud to see Wilbur at his position now. I remember all those late-night calls when we would talk about what we wanted to be in few years' time. We were only small baby streamers when we first met. I did cooking streams in my parents’ kitchen and the townhouse he used to stream in was sold off long ago. Now we were in my own kitchen with tens and thousands of people watching us live, and tomorrow, thousands of more were going to watch Wil perform with his guitar and his voice.

It was time to start cooking. Today we were making strawberry cookies with white chocolate chips. I started off by giving directions as to what measurements you would need. Before I do my cooking streams, I like to post what ingredients would be needed the day because sometimes my fans would post selfies of them following my streams live while also cooking.

“So first, lets stir in our dry ingredients, yes?” I looked at Wil, who only eagerly nodded in silence. “So, of course, like all streams, I like to do my measurements while live just in case anyone needs time to catch up. So I hope everyone has their measuring utensils, because I’m about to give the measurements! And of course, I will be providing them on the screen as well.” I stated, looking at my OBS display.

Wil and I began to prep the ingredients. Each time I stated a measurement, Wil would scramble around the kitchen for the key components before emptying the powder into the bowl. I let out a small chuckle. “Wilbur, take your time, seriously! We’re supposed to be enjoying the moment.” I exclaimed.

“But but—!” Wil protested.

“Wil!”

With a defeated sigh, he slowed his movements as he scurried around the kitchen for the rest of the materials. As I stirred the flour and sugar together, I waited for Wil to come with the baking powder and salt. In the meantime, I started to look at chat.

“(y/n) is smiling a bit too much yall”

“YES WILBUR TREAT OUR CHEF RIGHT!!”

“is this (y/n)’s bf?”

Though it’s safe to say Wilbur and I had never had feelings for each other, the comments still flustered me. To prevent myself from getting more flushed, I pointed my attention back to my mixing bowl. Suddenly, Wilbur came behind me, holding the measuring cups.

“Ah, Wil—”

“This would be more an efficient way of getting our ingredients mixed in, no?” Wilbur suggested. His arms were on either side of my body, sprinkling in both the salt and baking powder carefully as his chest pressed against my back. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks from such an intimate position but tried my best not to ignore it. After he was done, he set the utensils aside and placed his hands on either side of my wrists, stirring with my movements.

Despite us both knowing that the chat was going crazy at this point, we both enjoyed the moment. Ever since Wil and I met each other in person for the first time, we had this habit of messing around with each other in physical ways. Within the first hour of us being together, we were running around the city, climbing over each other while sitting down, and Wilbur at one point threw me over his shoulder because I was “walking too slow.” It all felt completely natural to us. However, hat made me most flustered about it now in this very moment was the fact that thousands of people were watching us live!

We proceeded with mixing in the ingredients. Wilbur helped combined the wet ingredients as he gradually poured them into the mixing bowl I was stirring (of course, he again insisted that he stood over me as he poured for “maximum efficiency”). After some time with the spatula, took it out and turned towards the camera.

“Alright, so at this point of the process, it’s going to get a little hard to stir the dough, so—” I glanced to my laptop’s stream viewer and saw that Wil was doing silly faces and gestures, completely taking the attention away from me. I watched as he opened his mouth wide and inched closer to me, almost trying to bite me. Without thinking, I took my finger to get a scoop of the batter before turning around and smudging it into Wil’s face.

Wilbur stared at me in shock as a smug grin rested on my face. Swiftly, he took the spatula from my hands, gathered a large glob with his fingers, and smeared it all over my face. My cheek was now lathered with the think substance as I stared at him, bewildered. It was now Wil’s turn to start smiling with his dimples prominent as they could be. “What, you started it!” Wil argued, putting his hands up. My eyes slowly trailed to the open flour bag he had left on the counter. It was as if Wil followed my gaze, because as soon as I reached over to that bag, Wil was on the run.

“What the— Come back here, you prick!” I cried. I grabbed a fistful of flour before aimlessly chasing him around the island counter. His legs were far too long to outrun me, but that also meant he was rather clumsy with his movement as well. We returned in front of the camera when Wil began to lose balance after turning a sharp corner. I took my chance and ran in front of him before dusting him with a fistful of flour all over his apron and face.

I fell into a fit of laughter, clutching my stomach. “Holy shit, Wil! You look ridiculous!” I said in between gasps. Wil stared in utter horror, but soon enough, he started laughing as well when he saw his reflection from the stream viewer.

“This is going to be a nightmare to get out of my hair, (y/n), what have you done?!” He cried. It sent me more into hysterics, laughing as I held onto the counter for dear life. “I’m going to try and wash this out now. You better hope and pray for your restroom.” Wil said, waving me off as he made his way to my bathroom.

“In the top left drawer in my room are my baggy clothes you could wear!” I called out. I carried on with the stream, leaving where I left off. I got my stand mixer and turned on the machine so that it could start stirring on its own. I also cleaned up around the area and washed the batter off my face before reading the chat.

“Alright, chat, how we feeling about this stream, huh? Everyone doing good following along? Do you guys like Wil?” I asked. I scanned the chat, smiling at some of the comments.

“Wil and (y/n) are an iconic duo bruh”

“YES CHEF WE LOVE THE STREAM CHEF”

“I’m doing good following along :D”

“WILBUR IS SO FUNNY”

By the time the dough was done mixing, so was Wilbur, who had just finished washing up and changing his clothes. He wore a baggy Artic-Monkeys tee with gray sweatpants that suited him perfectly. “Is the dough done?” Wil said. His hair was a curly mess most likely from wetting it then drying it with a towel. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose with his eyes just barely visible. Something about this look, whether it be his disheveled hair or the fact that he was wearing my clothes, made me blush a little.

“—Oh,” I muttered, barely realizing that he asked me a question. “Yeah, it’s done, we could start placing them on the tray now.” He nodded before coming behind me, placing hands on my waist. “Ah—! Wilbur!” he buried his face into the crook of my neck. With a defeated sigh, I turned off the machine and removed the bowl from the stand mixer. “Come on,” I said. “Help me shape the cookies.”

“Yes, chef!” he enthusiastically remarked. He stood back up, and we were back on business. We proceeded to work together to shape the cookies, making light conversation while also taking some questions from the chat. Wilbur talked about some stories he had on tour. He compared his experiences from when he used to do little stream performances to the big stage in front of thousands of people live.

Once we were done shaping the cookies, we placed the two trays into a preheated oven. I did the dishes while Wilbur offered to tend to my chat. There something so.. Domestic about Wil and I cooking. It came naturally, as if this isn’t the first time we cooked together, and it certainly this wouldn’t be the last. I scrubbed the bowl clean as I thought about the warmth of Wilbur wrapping around my body. How he nuzzled his nose into my scent, then pulling away reluctantly. A small smile formed on my lips. Though I knew deep down that I’ve never felt that way about Wilbur, and I doubt that he felt that way with me, it was still such an ideal way of moving on with life.

“Hey, (y/n)?” Wilbur called out. I shook my head and turned around to face Wilbur.

“Yes?” I asked. I wiped my hands with a dry towel before taking my place next to Wilbur, who had his waist against the counter and his hands holding himself up.

“Chat wants to do a Q&A session with the both of us. I think they’re tired of hearing about my tour stories.” He chuckled.

“Hm, I don’t think they’re tired of you, rockstar,” I smiled. “but sure, let’s do a Q&A with the two of us.”

The chat proceeded casually, and we had a fun time answering some questions. We talked about how we first met, how we grew up together as streamers, and how life has been for us more. However, there was one reoccurring question that we tried to ignore for some time, but at this point, it was rapidly coming up.

“Do you have feelings for each other?” I read out loud.

Wil and I looked at each other. Maybe it was the delusions I had, but there was something so sincere in Wil’s eyes. His eyes almost sparkled under the kitchen warm light, and his brown eyes could easily be confused for a fresh cocoa harvested from the jungle. His eyes squinted like he wanted to tell me something, but before I could ask, he turned away.

“No.” He stated but rather reluctantly. “We’ve just been really good friends for these past years, right?” He turned to me again.

“Mhm,” I hummed. My gaze then drifted to the camera. “Chat, stop shipping us together, seriously! You guys are acting like this is the first time I’ve done a cooking stream with a guy! Shame on you, chat!” I playfully lectured. But in my mind sat some heavy thoughts. I wondered if the reason why Wil was so hesitant was because he felt uncomfortable with the topic. Worry flooded my head, hoping that I didn’t ruin his time on stream.

Ding!

The oven went off, meaning that the cookies were ready. “Ah, cookies are ready!” I beamed, lightning the mood. I looked through the drawers, looking for the oven mitts. However, none were to be found. Wil noticed my confusion and came up behind me, a bit more careful on distance this time.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. His hands were behind his back as he leaned down to talk to me.

“Yeah.. I can’t find the oven mitts. Hold on, I probably left them in the washing machine room.” I turned around to face him.

“Alright, I’ll be here.” He smiled. I smiled back before moving past him, leaving the kitchen and headed down the hall to the spare storage room I had. I opened the door and looked around, finding those beige oven mitts I would frequently use while baking something. Without realizing, Wilbur was treading down the hallway.

“Ugh, where are they..” I thought out loud. I dug through the dryer, seeing if they were hiding under the freshly warm clothes. Finally, I was able to achieve the oven mitts. I stood up properly and held the oven mitts as I kicked the dryer closed. I turned around to finally get back to the stream and Wilbur. I wonder if—

Before I could finish thinking, a hand was on a hip and another hand was under my chin. Those familiar brunette curls brushed against my forehead, as I looked up to see Wilbur. His glasses were pushed up so that his face could be close to mine without any trouble. His eyes were half-lidded, almost looked like they were longing. Sparks tingled in my chest as I stared at him. A gulp running through my throat.

“May I kiss you..?” He gently asked. His voice was so low, so sensual, it was like waking up next to him after a long night of cuddling. My face burned, but not a single nerve in my body told me that I should deny his request.

I placed the oven mitts onto the nearest surface, not daring to look away from him. I could feel him getting nervous because even through the dark lighting, I could see his face turning red as the corners of his mouth twitched. Before I could even register my movements, I cupped either side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss I didn’t even know how much I longed.

His body sunk into my touch as he held me close with weak warms. His lips, soft and pink, danced with mine with a hunger I never realized he had. They were desperate, yearning for my warmth. Little did I know my movements mimicked his with just as much desperation.

Reluctantly, we pulled away as we held each other tight and close to each other’s bodies. His eyes were clouded underneath his mess of hair and glasses, but a wide smile rested on his face.

“How.. How long were you waiting to do that..?” I asked, breathless.

“The moment we met up at the airport, honestly..” He chuckled. “Come on.. You have a stream to wrap up.” Wilbur walked out of the room. His hand held mine until he was enough distance away, even clutching to my middle finger before departing. I stared as he turned the corner, joyfully greeting the chat as if nothing happened.

I realized that my cheeks were aching from smiling too much. As I listened to Wil ramble some excuse to chat as to why it’s taking me forever to return, I grabbed the oven mitts and slid down the hallway.

Maybe there was a reason why all of this felt so right. How being with Wilbur just felt so natural. I was out of frame, but I couldn’t help but stare at him.

Yeah.. I could get used to this.

»»———-　　———-««

a / n ~ aaahhh hope yall enjoyed! notes of all kind are appreciated :D and like always, thank you so much for the support.

basically tagging anyone that interacted with my previous posts whoopsies @listenheresweaty @buns-and-butter @mysticalsoot @tiredandbisexual @phxntomsdusk @themonsterunderurmom

[orion4ever]

can u do qiu and tamarack with an MC who LOVES to bake/cook but since theres not enough people in their house to eat it all of what they make most the time, they'll just knock on their doors like "do you want cookies? I just took them out the oven." or something

Author’s Note: Hi! I hoped you enjoy this, I have recently been getting into baking so this should be a fun write for me!

Pairing(s): Qiu Lin x MC and Tamarack Baumann x MC

🍪🧈🥄

QIU LIN 📝

Heck yeah! Free food!

When you first came into the problem of baking too much to eat, you were stumped

And when you expressed that to your dear friend, Qiu. They instantly volunteered as tribute to be a taste tester.

They want them as fresh as possible so they would probably just wait around your house or watch you bake them.

I don’t think they would help much other than passing you ingredients and maybe stirring the batter.

Only to get a lick of the batter

Of course, it's not because they don’t want to help or anything like that, they just know that you probably enjoy handling it on your own and being in your element without having some nerd ask them to go through the steps for the tenth time.

They get super excited when you try out a new pastry or recipe and have them be the very first to try it.

It feels like an exclusive event every time they get to be the first to try something of yours.

I headcanon that Qiu is kind of hopeless in the kitchen, preferring to just go to the diner or their parents if they want something.

They burn water so it’s mesmerized to watch you bake something from scratch.

I like to think that for a special occasion, they might try and bake you something either from scratch or a box mix!

“Wow! Did you bake this all for me? You’re so nice!”

Tamarack Baumann🍁

Gets PUMPED when finding this out!

Thinks this is something you can add to your guys’ tea parties! What's not better than some tea with homemade cookies and bread?

It’s like an actual fancy tea party now! :0

Tamarack isn’t super picky, but does appreciate variety! She encourages you to try out a bunch of different recipes regardless of the difficulty level.

Like, what do you mean you can’t make macaroons? You’re a master baker, you could try!

She doesn’t want you to be the only one pulling your weight to supply these tea parties, she will be bringing lots of teas and little stuff to put on them, like milk and honey!

Tamarack is crafty so I see her making you a little apron and custom mittens with while wonky, cute embroidery of your name!

This inspires her to make more stuff like a chef's hat which leads her down a sewing rabbit hole.

She eats most of what you bring her but she also likes inviting you inside to give them to her Omi and Opa!

She doesn’t care too much about the freshness of the cookies but she also enjoys watching you bake.

The energetic girl needs some downtime too and watching you bake is soothing to her.

“Treats? Yay! This will be nice for the tea party! Come, sit! I will get the tea you liked last time!”

[juuuulez]

Hello :) Carl x F!Greene!Reader, Reader and Carl had been pining for each other since they met at the farm but they haven't had a chance to talk about it TO CONFESS so basically more than friends but no label. Back in s5e15 Carl chases Enid when he spots her climbing over the wall. And in the tree scene where they almost kissed, Reader somehow spots them(was on a walk to relieve stress) I am such a sucker for ANGST. You have full reign of how the story will go! Ty v much :))

Little Pleasures.

info: S5Carl x Greene! Reader, technically no pronouns used but u can fill that in mentally, kids being stupid.

summary: You catch Carl and Enid sharing an intimate moment, and can no longer repress your feelings for the Grimes’ boy. Luckily, he intends on making it right.

this was soooo cute to write!!! plss send more request i loved doing this!

You’ve learnt to enjoy the little things in life.

Seeing your sister, Maggie, happy with Glenn filled you with joy. Carol would sometimes bring over cookies, and promised to teach you the recipe. Once Daryl found an old music box while on a supply run, and brought it back for you.

But your favourite little pleasure? Well, that was easily Carl Grimes.

Whenever you were sad, he’d notice, and let you read his comics. He was perceptive like that, and could sense your emotions from a mile away. Maybe he, too, felt this deep sense of sadness, an ache that never went away.

After the death of your father and sister, that ache became all consuming. Some days you couldn’t bare to get up, and yet those where the days Carl turned up, standing on your porch. Throwing stones at your window.

Once again, it was these little things that made life worthwhile. You liked to think that Carl enjoyed your company as much you did his.

Sure, back at the prison Beth had egged you to make a move on him, as it was no denying how the sheriff’s boy made your heart sore. Back then, it was a silly little crush, one you’d indulge in just to pass the time. But now it was impractical. Seeing everybody you loved perish numbed you, and growing attached to Carl would only result in further turmoil.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

So why did seeing Carl with Enid hurt so much?

Whenever you were particularly sad, a walk seemed to help. Except for now, crouched behind a bush watching Carl and Enid hiding in a tree, their faces inches away. It made you feel sick.

Why was he with her? Did she have something you didn’t? Was she prettier? Could understand his comics better?

Your mind ran rampage, the embarrassing feeling of hot tears spilling into your cheeks. This was pathetic. You’d sworn that Carl meant nothing to you, and yet you couldn’t handle seeing him with someone else.

In a hurry, you took off, scurrying back to Alexandria. No more walks. No more going outside. No more little pleasures.

That was until late at night, when the familiar tapping on your window returned.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

“Stop it!” You shout, moving to pry your window open just before Carl can throw another stone. It makes your insides feel warm and fuzzy, the sight of him standing there, hair messy under his hat. You’d missed him.

“Will you come down?” He asks in a plea, speaking in this whisper-shout in an attempt not to wake the whole neighbourhood. “I haven’t seen you all day. Thought maybe you weren’t feeling well.”

Your jaw clenches, wanting nothing more than to banish him from your sight. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.”

It was harsh, childish venom dripping from your tone as you slam the window shut, the harsh action vibrating against the wall. Sniffling, wiping messily at your eyes, you sat back down on your bed.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

You groan into your pillow, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs against the bedding. Why won’t he give up?

At your lack of response, there’s silence. It sounds like Carl’s gone home. Good. Now you can avoid him all day, all night, and never have to see him that close to Enid again. She can have him.

Only a few minutes later there’s a knocking at your door. You tilt your head out of the pillow, looking across the room. However, before you can give permission, the door is opening, revealing Carl once more.

“I said I didn’t want to talk to you!” You scold him, and in a fit of aggression, throw your pillow over at the boy.

He catches it seamlessly, throwing it into the bed as he approaches you. “Why the hell not? I got a new edition of Hawkeye. Thought you’d want to read it.”

“Why don’t you read it with Enid?” You mumble, turning away from him to face the opposite wall. This all seems so childish and stupid, the exact thing you wanted to avoid by distancing yourself from Carl.

There’s a beat of silence.

The bed dips slightly, a warm presence filling the space next to you. It takes everything within your power not to look at him.

“Enid doesn’t like comics,” Carl tells you, his voice quiet and sincere, like he can sense how upset you are no matter how irrational. “I wanted to see you today. But you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

You roll your eyes, and with one motion, fall back onto your bed with a huff. “I thought I didn’t want to be near you. Incase… I started enjoying it too much.”

You’re met with silence again, like an indication to continue. At least, that’s how you take it.

“Something bad’s gonna happen, Carl. It always does. And I don’t want… to be too sad, when you get hurt. Or when I get hurt.”

There’s a gentle thud as Carl falls back onto the bed, laying next to you over the covers. You don’t look at him, but he’s looking at you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He asks, “It’s okay to be scared… but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do things that make you happy.”

You don’t respond, too embarrassed to admit the feelings that have been eating you up inside. The words you can’t seem to push past your lips, no matter how hard you try.

Luckily, Carl does it for you.

“Do I make you happy?”

It’s an innocent question, yet makes your face flush red, ashamed that he’s been able to pick you apart so easily. If your reaction wasn’t obvious enough, you meekly nod in confirmation.

If you were facing Carl, you’d see the smile that spread across his face.

“You make me happy, too. More than you could understand.” He tells you, an admission that warms your heart.

Finally, you look over at him, and find that Carl is closer than you anticipated. He’s taken his hat off, resting further on the bed, brown hair messily splashed out on the sheets.

A smile of your own makes its way onto your face, feeling understood in a way that’s become so foreign. This couldn’t get any better.

Until it did.

“Can I… kiss you?” Carl asks, an innocent request that reignites that fire within you, the one you’ve been ignoring for so long.

When you speak, it comes out in a nervous whisper, “Please.”

For the first time in months, you’ve found something that truely makes you happy. A little pleasure above all.

The way Carl gently places his lips on yours, hands cupping your face like it were made from porcelain, that you may shatter under his fingers. He’s nervous, but that’s okay. You’re nervous, too.

You could definitely get used to this.

[starry-hughes]

playing in the snow (jack hughes)

day 6 of star’s ficmas event!

single dad!jack au (jack hughes x reader)

Paisley’s first Christmas and a late Hanukkah were spent in Michigan. Jack wanted her to spend the holidays in Michigan with his family. The three day break from games for Christmas were exciting. You had met everyone in the Hughes family but you hadn’t gotten to experience the holidays with the family. 

The flight into Ann Arbor was nice, especially since Paisley slept through most of it. “It’s snowing,” you commented to yourself as you looked out the window. “Paisley’s first Christmas and it’s a white Christmas,” Jack beamed. 

He was a good dad, hiring you as a nanny when he needed help and her mom left before Paisley was even brought home from the hospital. Jack didn’t exactly plan to fall in love with you but the constant time together, raising his daughter together, it was a recipe to falling in love. 

Luke carried the diaper bag as you carried Paisley. Jack rolled your suitcase along with his. Quinn was getting in at the same time from Vancouver and was excited to help with Paisley on the car ride to the Hughes’ household. 

You weren’t expecting to find a stocking for yourself on the fireplace. It was filled with candy like the ones for the boys and small gifts. “Jack,” you gritted, “you said your parents weren’t getting me anything.” He grinned, “I lied.” You didn’t mind gifts, you just felt bad that you hadn’t bought anything for them. 

“This is the most snow all December,” Ellen commented. The two of you were finishing up the wrapping of Paisley’s gifts. Jack entered the living room with a bundle in his arms. “Look! She fits Lukey’s old baby snowsuit!” He was dressed for the snow, jacket on, a hat and gloves ready. “(Y/N) go get your coat on, Paisley needs to experience her first snow!” Jack instructed. 

Within minutes, you were dressed for the snow, wishing you could stay inside with Ellen, somewhere warm. But you were in the yard, attempting to get Paisley accumulated to the snow. Luke had built her a small snowman and Quinn had showed her a snowball. She was simply not amused. 

“Here bub,” you offered to let her touch a handful of snow in your hand. “Quinn, throw the snowball at Luke,” you said after Paisley got bored at nervously poking at the snow. “Hey!” Luke shouted before he was hit with the snowball in his chest. A giggle broke out from Paisley. 

Jack smiled widely, all he wanted was this moment. Paisley and you sitting in the snow, playing and watching him and his brothers mess around. After a while, Jack plopped himself next to you and Paisley. “Let’s make a snow angel with her,” you said. Ellen took lots of pictures before calling everyone inside. 

Everyone had rosy cheeks from the cold and Paisley was being carried around, tucked under Jack’s hoodie he had cut specifically for moments like these, when she wanted to get extra warmth. “I don’t think she liked the snow too much,” you laughed as she happily stuck her pacifier into her mouth. “No, but that’s okay, maybe she will like skating in a year or two,” Jack smiled. 

[a-certain-romance]

i made the house wife ei and miko thing tbh if u want more i can write u some fr (gonna turn it into a whole ass story for u) tbh skmetimes i imagine shenhe and her house wife to imagine how possessive she could get over her house wife being jealous at every moment

then we have ningguang who adores her house wife who dhe convinced to live a life of luxioury in her jade chamber tbh your not swayed at first untill you know you can worry over her while she works and sew her stuff shes always so pleased so she rubs her hand on your thigh staring at you knowing whats to come she already planned ahead ofc

then hu tao and her house wife (coping with the fact im an og and never got her c1) anyways shes so giggly most of the time watching you cook and giving you soft kisses every time she finishes a meal. your too cute to resist honestly!! so she decided to leave you her outfit who knows what she’ll do next <3

im mot gay iswear-

AHHH ANON U ARE THE BEST!!! (Feel free to share if you have more!!)

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, possessive sex/tendencies (Shenhe), face sitting (Ningguang), Overstimulation (Ningguang), mastrubation (Hu tao), fingering (Hu tao)

Link to pt 1 , Pt3, & Pt4

- She’d get so jealous thinking about all the people you might be around. Shenhe hates crowds so knowing that she’s not at the best of her abilities in the harbor leaves her on edge

- Shenhe who gets so possessive that she singlehandedly builds a house in the mountains away from all those people who might interfere with the two of you. It’s a good midpoint between the Wangshu Inn and Qingce Village, and plenty far away from the crowded harbor

- As she spends her time in meditation and training you spend your time with household duties and tending to your garden of Qixing and other flowers. You spend the days trying to familiarize yourself with new recipes that fit to your and Shenhe’s tastes and even experimenting with a few dishes. On the few times you do travel back to the harbor with Shenhe you always stop at Wanmin restaurant to exchange knowledge and recipes with Xiangling

- These trips can be very fun, though many of them end in a rough fucking against the wall of some alleyway after someone looks at you in a way that Shenhe doesn’t like

- She’s content to carry you for a while since it means you get to be all the more closer to her

- It’s the fact that you aren’t interested in her for her wealth that makes her fall for you

- Being Ningguang’s housewife means you don’t need to lift a finger while you’re in the Jade Chamber

- Yet she still melts when you take it upon yourself to help the maids by cleaning Ningguang’s study on your own or cooking her favorite meals when she’s had a packed schedule

- She’ll order the finest silks or brocades or fabrics; anything you ask for will be in your hands at a moment’s notice

- When she’s especially pleased with your hard work she’ll guide you towards your shared room and reveal her most expensive lingerie & lipstick combo

- She’ll let you suck and nip at her breasts for a bit before locking her legs around your waist. She can’t have all the fun, this night is meant for you. Deep make-out sessions lead to her urging your legs to sit on either side of her head

- Ningguang will lick and suck on your clit until your brain goes dumb from the pleasure, and even after you finish she’ll keep going and overstimulating you further

- Hu Tao who serenades you with poetry as appreciation for all the cooking you do

- She also handpicks the prettiest flowers from her walks around Liyue and places them in a neat vase every few weeks just for you

- She leaves her outfit in plain sight on the bed. It all started with wanting to try on her hat, leading to you wonder what the rest of her outfit would feel like

- You bask in the sweet aroma of red plum blossoms. It’s like she’s with you right now! Sometimes you wear it when she’s not around. Hu Tao catches wind of this quickly and always leaves a spare article of clothing at your place

- One of these days she surprises you by coming early and finds you pleasuring yourself while wearing one of her jackets. Aiya, it was her who got you into this, might as well take responsibility and finish what you started she thinks as her finger teases your wet folds

[glcive]

ok so i did this like two months ago but i wanted to do it again and tag more peoplee

rules: bold the ones that are true and tag people to do it.

appearance. i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair (some of it) // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles (like three but i love them lmao) // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

hobbies and talents. i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing (i need to do it more lmao) // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

relationship. i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend (twice!!) // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

aesthetics. i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days (depends on the type of rain) // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

miscellaneous. i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy Mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

no pressure tags!! @zzzzzzzzzee @daydreampirate @none-of-it-was-accidental @crowgenius @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @xgirlidiotx @literatureisdying @snailcheeserulz @tellme-o-muse @imswimmingback @leaskisses444 @lalallorona @waitingforthesunrise @gayoticbeing @cordelia-street @recklessandyoung @strats-blood @sweeto @holdmyteaplease @strawberryloveyyy @syzygy-yzygy @rissipluto @demilovatic @briannaswords @svnflowermoon @ineedibuprofen @august-taylors-version @a-portal-to-nowhere @qwerty-keysmash @saturnsringsasalways @braaando @judeisthedude @wastedonthesebutterflies @skeelly @pazoo-underscore @shyrepgirl @bookscorpion73 @vams225 @stvrlighhttt @moonartemisandstar

[m1d-45]

I know yall hate on her for wrecking the 50/50, but. Imagine Qiqi finding the creator. Lil zombie girl is just roaming around, kinda lost, when she sees a strange blue bird flying through the air. She gets the feeling that she needs to follow it, so she does. She ends up finding the blue bird, and with it, the Creator. She doesn't really get that the person before her is the God Of All Things, but it doesn't matter. This person is injured, and she has plants on her that can help. Baizhu had written down a few simple recipes in her notebook in case she got hurt, and now she can use them to help someone else! She's a little doctor now, like Baizhu!

The blue bird seems suspicious of her, but she doesn't mind. Baizhu told her that finches fly away as a precaution, not because they are truly scared. Maybe it's the same for this bird? She hopes she can be friends with the pretty bird one day.

-sibling anon, who absolutely adores Qiqi

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HATE QIQI WHAT HAVE I DONE TO GIVE THAT IMPRESSION-

i love qiqi. she’s baby. i’d rather lose the 50/50 to her than to keqing or jean or mona. we love and adore qiqi in this house.

anyway:

imagine. qiqi going on a trip to gather more herbs, basket in one hand. her trip has been successful, more plants than usual cropping up around the area.

above her, a bird cries. she looks up, free hand holding her hat, and sees a bright blue… finch? it’s fling quickly, urgently, something grasped tightly in its claws.

is the finch… in trouble?

maybe if she had a clearer head she’d know that it was ridiculous to follow a bird because it sounded distressed, but some instinct within her told her to follow.

“wait… bird…” she grabbed a final fistful of horsetail and rushed as quickly as she could to follow. the bird was quick, but with a few lucky guesses (and the repeated cries of the bird) she was able to follow.

still, it was a long journey. once qiqi saw the bird fly into a tree she took a break underneath the shade of another, resting against the tree.

it was so hot in liyue. a breeze came by, somewhat cooling, and she put her hand to her forehead to keep her talismans in place.

she had to go. something told her that somebody was in trouble.

so she clutched her basket tightly, using a bit of cryo to keep herself cool. as she got closer to the birds tree, she could hear a voice.

“-can’t do anything with this, friend.” the bird chirped. “i don’t know enough about medicine. thank you, but…”

qiqi carefully rounded the tree, basket held in front of her like a shield.

you didn’t seem like much of a threat. you were sitting against the tree, chest heaving, clutching a stained bundle of cloth to one of your arms. the bird sat on your knee, and she could see now that the thing it was carrying was a small bundle of qingxin.

qingxin…

“excuse me?”

both you and the bird startled, the small finch flapping its wings as if to scare her off. you tried to calm it down, carefully, looking over at her with a watery smile.

“sorry, he’s a bit skittish.”

the bird, though small, felt familiar, and you… she had to have met you before, right?

“i am qiqi. i do not remember you.”

“we’ve never met.”

that’s not right. she barely recognized dr baizhu sometimes, but you she knew she met before. but where…?

“…you are injured.”

the birds wings ruffled.

“i am.”

“i have herbs.”

“…shouldn’t you be getting back to the pharmacy, qiqi?”

“qiqi does not understand. you are injured.”

the bird flapped over to her basket, seeming to inspect the plants she’d gathered. satisfied, it turned with a sharp chirp, and you sighed.

“are you certain you don’t need to get back soon?”

“qiqi needs to be at the city before the stars. that is far later.”

you glanced up, through the protective canopy of trees.

“alright then. just don’t use too much of your supply, okay? you still need some for the pharmacy.”

the bird chirped again, flying back to you when qiqi picked up her basket.

it settled at your shoulder while qiqi worked, glass eyes watching her flip through the small field notebook baizhu had filled out for her. crush this, apply that, prevent infection with-

you hissed at the sudden burst of cryo to your wound, the icevein talisman at her side jerking back when your bird cried.

you shakily pet over him, and with some hesitation, she continued.

as she worked, qiqi thought. sifting through her small memory bank. you were familiar, she knew it, but from where? your face struck a chord on an instrument she didn’t know how to play, your voice an unheard chorus.

and your bird…

when qiqi returned to the harbor, she did so with a half-empty basket and a new entry in her notebook.

‘remember the person with the blue finch.’