#it's a polish meal

[quilveor]

I finished Chicory

it's such a good game omg.

also every time I saw Kiwi out and about singing I just smiled more.

Go play Wandersong AND Chicory.

And Beastieball. It's not out yet but there's a demo.

Wishes Ultd. are masters of the craft.

[retr0-dayz]

early 2010s halloween nostalgia

[magazynkulinarny]

Pierogi z truskawkami

Pozycja obowiązkowa w większości polskich domów, w sezonie wiosenno-letnim. Pierogi z truskawkami stoją u mnie wysoko w rankingu słodkich, choć nie przebiją pierogów z jagodami, czy z twarogiem.

Wykonanie ich nie jest szczególnym problemem, więc jeśli obawiacie się, że to zbyt duże wyzwanie, natychmiast wyrzućcie tę myśl do kosza na śmieci i zakasujcie rękawy! Wystarczy zagnieść ciasto, włożyć do niego po dwa, trzy kawałeczki truskawek, skleić i ugotować.

Są różne szkoły obrabiania owoców do pierogów. Jedni kroją je na połówki lub ćwiartki, inni zachowują w całości, w zależności od wielkości truskawek. Spotkałam się też z siekaniem ich w kosteczkę oraz blendowania na pulpę. Preferuję ten pierwszy spos��b, bo zależy mi na tym, aby zachowały w sobie jak najwięcej soku. Dlatego też łączę je delikatnie z chłonną mąką ziemniaczaną, a przed zamknięciem w cieście dosładzam odrobiną cukru.

Zawsze ozdabiam pierogi zgrabną falbanką, ale tym razem spieszyłam się, wiec tylko skleiłam brzegi. Szczęśliwie żaden podczas gotowania "nie puścił". Ich słodkie serca - choć pokrojone na kawałki - zachowały się jak trzeba i pozostały na swoim miejscu. Zuchy!

Sezon truskawkowy nie trwa długo, warto z niego korzystać pełnymi garściami!

Składniki:

500 g mąki pszennej szklanka gorącej wody 50 g masła 1/2 łyżeczki soli 500 g jędrnych truskawek łyżka mąki ziemniaczanej ok. pół szklanki cukru

Dodatkowo 2/3 szklanki jogurtu naturalnego 1/3 szklanka kremówki płaska łyżka cukru łyżeczka esencji waniliowej (opcjonalnie)

Wykonanie:

W dużym garnku zacząć gotować wodę.

Mąkę przesiać na stolnicę, dodać sól. Podlewać dopiero co zagotowaną wodą (tylko się nie poparzyć!), dodać roztopione masło i zagnieść ciasto. Wykorzystać tyle wody, ile wypije mąka. Powinno być elastyczne i niezbyt zwarte. Powygniatać przez minutę, dwie. Przykryć lnianą ściereczką.

Truskawki opłukać i odszypułkować. Małe pokroić na połówki, większe na ćwiartki. Oprószyć mąką ziemniaczaną i delikatnie wymieszać.

Ciasto podzielić na trzy części. Dwie odłożyć, a trzecią rozwałkowywać cienko, wycinać w niej krążki metalowym kółkiem, nakładać po dwa lub trzy kawałki truskawek, zaklejać brzegi i odkładać na bok. Gotowe przykrywać ściereczką, aby nie obsychały.

Gdy woda będzie mocno wrzała osolić ją i włożyć pierwszą partię pierogów (około 10 sztuk). Po ponownym zagotowaniu zmniejszyć ogień do średniego i gotować do miękkości ciasta, przez około 2-2,5 minuty licząc od czasu wypłynięcia na powierzchnię wody.

Wybierać łyżką cedzakową i układać na dużym talerzu.

Podawać z dodatkiem śmietany, jogurtu, cukru pudru lub sosu truskawkowego.

[rapidhighway]

i would like to share todays win as in, i ate three meals today, very awesome and good for me

[amor-godess-of-love]

A childhood meals

Warning: Oc related staff

After both Jonathan and Jagna start they PhD studies,by now Jagna give up on trying to convince Jonathan to have better sleeping schedule. Instead she tried to help him eat more then once or twice a day. For this she research every traditional meal from southern states that Jonathan ever mentioned to her. Specially concentrating on ones who brought him comfort in childhood. At first she had few problems, but soon she is able to cook a nice meal. She also learns how to make a sweet tea. It works! Jonathan starts to eat at lest three meals a day. He won't admit,but he is moved by someone learning how to cook his childhood meals, he also appreciates Jagna's questions on what she can improve to make it more to his taste. He does appreciate it very much and because of how much this means for him, the way she prepares the sweet tea becomes his favourite.

But Jonathan also pays back Jagna for such a gesture too. The first day he wakes up to back lunch with meal from his childhood, he is both suprise and irritated. After the classes he goes to many bookshops in city, only to finally found one that has a polish cooking book that is in english. After Jagna get's home that evening, she comes to cook dinner, that was her childhood comfort meal. With Jonathan standing in kitchen with pouting look that said: "You can't do this, without expecting me to pay you back in the same way too".

Just like that a shared cooking become a bonding time for them. Either cooking meals from they home regions or trying other recipes from all around a wory. With time Jagna even teaches Jonathan her family's secret recipes and Jonathan doing the same. With time they even create they own recipes mixing both styles of cooking from they home regions. Both appreciate time and effort other puts into learning to cook the meals, but Jonathan appreciates it just a bit more, because he never thought he will meet someone who will put time and effort into learning such things for him. He feels more then happy to pay back with similar thing.

[inspiringfoods]

[piotrtheblogger]

Smaki Polski/Tastes of Poland: śniadanie (breakfast), obiad z mamą (dinner with mom), kolacja z mamą (supper with mom) i nocna przekąska (late night snack)

Smacznego (bon appétit) 😋

[jane-friend]

I really want to learn true rustic Italian recipes. My Nonna taught me some stuff, but I want to understand the true heart and soul of my heritage’s cuisine. None of this heavily modernized Italian-American stuff.

[rendoa-blog]

GOD I FUCKING ADORE YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO FIND THIS IS SAW THIS SOMEWHERE IN THE VAST SEA OF TUMBLR REPOSTED ONTO YOUTUBE AND I NEEDED THIS

also fucking hell I've done like half of those...

im going to have a stroke

[sxreiinia]

when the Little Task that was supposed to make you happy just makes you sad instead

[magazynkulinarny]

Łazanki z kapustą kiszoną, mięsem i kiełbasą

Jedno z prostszych i bardziej lubianych dań kuchni polskiej. Łączy w sobie skromność składników z łatwością wykonania.

Z kawałka łopatki, kiełbasy, kiszonej kapusty i makaronu w niespełna godzinę przygotujemy sycący, bogaty i pyszny posiłek, który możemy przechowywać dłużej w lodówce lub zamrażarce, bez uszczerbku dla smaku i wartości odżywczych.

Skąd ten szczery, swojski posmak, który cenią niemal wszyscy? Ano z umami! Łazanki z kiszoną kapustą i mięsem przepełnione są piątym smakiem: słonawą, podbitą kwasowością i słodyczą głębią. Dużo jej w mięsie, zwłaszcza dojrzewającym, kiszonkach i suszonych grzybach. Dlatego równą, a może i jeszcze większą popularnością, cieszą się bigos, żurek, grzybowa, kapuśniak, czy długo gotowany rosół.

Japoński chemik, Kikunae Ikeda, w 1908 roku ustalił, że za ten wyjątkowy smak (umami znaczy tyle co wyśmienity, smakowity) odpowiadają sole organicznego kwasu glutaminowego, a kolejne badania uzupełniły, że jest to połączenie kwasu glutaminowego z wybranymi nukleotydami. Tego samego roku zaczęto produkcję sztucznego umami, czyli MSG, niektórym bardziej znanego jako glutaminian sodu lub E621.

Wiele lat temu media wrzały na temat szkodliwości tego składnika. Sama słyszałam zatrważającą opowieść pewnej osoby o koledze, który podczas pobytu w Chinach i posiłku w restauracji omal ducha nie wyzionął z powodu dodatku glutaminianu sodu do jedzenia. Ile w tym prawdy, a ile egzaltacji bohatera anegdoty, kwiecistego stylu narratorki lub reakcji alergicznej na jakiś inny składnik obecny w daniu (orzechy, grzyby, zioła?), nie wiem. Istnieje jeszcze prawdopodobieństwo, że pijany kucharz sypnął tego dnia do gara wzmacniacza smaku zbyt dużo i wielu jego gości padało, jak muchy. Tak sobie fantazjuję...

Co do toksyczności sztucznego umami większość badań naukowych jej nie potwierdziła, oczywiście przy stosowaniu standardowych ilości (od 0,1% do 0,8%). W 1987 roku eksperci FAO i WHO uznały MSG za substancję bezpieczną (status GRAS – Generally Recognized As Safe). Podobne stanowisko zajęła Europejska Agencja ds. Bezpieczeństwa Żywności (EFSA) w 2017 roku. Glutaminian sodu został zakwalifikowany przez amerykańską FDA (Food and Drug Administration) i Unię Europejską jako bezpieczny. 

Mimo to ja do jedzenia nie dosypuję, bo po co? Przecież mogę użyć dobrych produktów i rozmaitych naturalnych przypraw. Smakuje równie dobrze, a nawet lepiej.

Nie ma jak u...mami!

Składniki:

400 g makaronu łazanki 500 g kapusty kiszonej 120 g dobrej kiełbasy wieprzowej 120 g kiełbasy myśliwskiej z dzika 250 g łopatki lub podgardla wieprzowego 2 średnie cebule 5-6 suszonych podgrzybków przyprawy: 4 liście laurowe, łyżeczka ziela angielskiego, płaska łyżeczka słodkiej papryki, płaska łyżeczka majeranku łyżka sosu Worcestershire sól i czarny pieprz do smaku

Wykonanie:

Grzyby zalać taką ilością wrzątku, by je przykryły. Kapustę ugotować do miękkości (ok. 20 minut), odcedzić i pociąć długie pasma na krótsze (używam nożyczek).

W tym czasie mięso pokroić w średniej wielkości kostkę, kiełbasę w plasterki. Cebulę obrać i pokroić w małą kosteczkę.

Mięso doprawić solą, pieprzem i na dużej patelni usmażyć ze wszystkich stron na rumiano. Przełożyć na talerz, a na wytopionym z mięsa tłuszczu usmażyć kiełbasę. W połowie smażenia dorzucić cebulę i smażyć na złoto. Jeśli trzeba, podlać olejem rzepakowym.

Na patelnię przełożyć mięso, podlać niedużą ilością wody i dusić pod przykryciem do miękkości mięsa, mniej więcej 7-10 minut. Dołożyć kapustę, pokrojone drobno grzyby wraz z wywarem. Dodać przyprawy, sos Worcestershire i smażyć całość jeszcze 10 minut. Skosztować i dosmakować zgodnie z preferencjami.

Makaron ugotować al dente, odcedzić, połączyć z zawartością patelni i podawać.

Można przechowywać kilka dni w lodówce oraz mrozić.

[monstersholygrail]

Dragon bf takes care of his treasures like any proper dragon should. You, being his most precious treasure, always come first.

Before you, his favorite task of the day was polishing his treasures. Licking and rubbing them vigorously until they shined and sparkle like nothing you’ve ever seen. And now that he has you, his darling mate, you could say it’s still his favorite task of the day.

Except one minor twist being that you’re the treasure he’s polishing so intently.

Every day he places your pretty curvy body on his table and spreads your thick thighs so he can fully enjoy his task. Exposing your wet folds to the cool air and making your breath catch with anticipation.

A rumble of pleasure moves through your bf’s chest, watching as your slick makes your pussy shine brighter than any jewel or gem he’s ever seen. Though he knows you can get wetter and he won’t stop until you’re absolutely dripping.

Dragon bf moans lewdly as he starts lapping up along your wet slit. His eyes rolling back as he gorges himself on your delectable essence. Eating you out like he hasn’t had a meal in a century and now that he’s got it in his grasp he refuses to let it go.

Your cries echo against the walls of his cave and he growls in response, picking up pace, needing more of your sweet noises and the honeyed nectar that spews from between your thighs with each swirl of his tongue.

You swear you’ve never been more wet in your life. His tongue igniting every nerve in your body, making your cunt throb and gush with your arousal. Giving him exactly what he wants as your slick pools out of you, making a mess of your thighs and the table beneath you. Even his face is shiny and soaked with your essence, glittering against the lit torches on the wall.

Every orgasm simply falls into the next. His tongue building you up and making you drip with need until he latches onto your clit and sucks another orgasm out of your spent body. Over and over again, your body growing unaware of everything besides how soaked he’s made you.

When your Dragon bf lifts his head from your quivering and wrecked cunt, you sigh in relief, believing him to be done. He looks down at you with a satisfied smirk as your pussy glitters in the firelight and your face glows with the flush of your release.

But then he’s rolling his tongue over his thumb and something in your belly clenches. Your traitorous cunt fluttering around nothing at the implication of his actions.

“Did you think we were done, my mate? Tsk. No, a treasure such as you deserves only the best and I am nowhere near finished with you.”

[kbwrites]

“Who did this to you?” A deep voice echoes, vibrating around the walls of the throne room. On the opulent throne sits the owner of the baritone voice — Ryomen Sukuna. The king of curses, resting his head on his arm as he looks down at you, too scared to look up from your feet.

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He warns, your body hasn’t ceased shaking. Your uniform is tattered, the rips in the fabric revealing deep purple bruises. Uraume was the one that found you, unconscious in the butlers pantry. After waking you up they brought you to the throne room. So there you were, kneeling at the feet of your king.

You arrived to the estate a year ago, your life as a servant was agreeable. Lord Sukuna treated all his servants well. You were loyal, efficient and pleasant to look at, it was only a matter of time before he started to notice you.

At first he requested you be the one to serve him breakfast. Then it became lunch, and suddenly you tended to all his meals. He demanded you for everything, his bathing, dressing. He could do all of these things himself of course, but he prefered your gentle hands. His personal attendant, not even Uraume, had seen the king of curses at his most vulnerable... but you had bared witness to all of him.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me who. Then why?” Ryomen slowly rises from his throne, his looming figure towering over your kneeling body. He lowers himself to your level, one hand reaches down to lift your chin. Firm yet gentle he forces you to look up at him, your eyes meeting his red ones. Your once flawless skin is covered in bruises. His eyes darken.

“They t-think you favor me.” Is all you can manage to get out.

Word spreads around the estate of course. And plus Sukuna didn’t exactly hide his preference for you. You didn’t sleep with the rest of the help, you were given a room connected to his. ‘In case he requested your presence in the night’ but the reality was he slept better knowing you were near. You didn’t eat the servant food, you dined in the great hall. At a separate table he had made for you. All of these things on full display for the others to see, it wasn’t long before the insults started. At first it was the odd ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ being mumbled in passing. Then an accidental shove into the wall, always followed by a curt “sorry”.

But today? It was your birthday. You had only mentioned it to Ryomen in passing one day at breakfast. He never understood the need for such a useless celebration. You went about your duties for the day, when Uraume found you and handed you a small box. And there on display for everyone to see, a beautiful beaded bracelet made from polished cherry wood. A token of appreciation ‘for your hard work’.

A gift from the king of curses.

“What’s so great about you anyway?”

“Lord Sukuna’s bed-warmer gets everything she wants!”

They punched and kicked, throwing you into the pantry. The group of servants you once thought of as your family. Clouded by jealousy, hatred towards you — the lord’s favorite.

Ryomen Sukuna, the epitome of ruthlessness and malevolence, softens his gaze. He looks upon your trembling form with… pity? His moment of weakness is replaced by an unreadable expression.

“You have been relieved of your servant duties. You will stay here in my quarters from here on out.” It’s a demand, leaving no room for objection. Your eyes well up with tears looking up at your king, his other hand wipes them away. He rises, walking towards the door, his back facing you.

“Get up. Uraume will tend to your injuries. Once you are well, we will visit the servant’s quarters. You will point out those who laid their filthy hands on you, and I will kill them.”

part 2 out now!!

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓤𝓖𝓐𝓡.       eren yeager.

‎𐦍 ₊˚♱ ෆ . . . 5.1k. fem!reader, set in 01’, country!eren + bluecollar!, housewife!reader, established relationship, domesticity, ovulation, oral ꒰ f + m. ꒱, kreaming + squirting, rough sex, nasty talk ofc, unprotected, daddy kink, spanking, pet names ꒰ sweetie, baby, mama ꒱, praise, hair pulling, check ins + aftercare, choking, breath + sensitivity + salvia play, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . a lil sum i thought of randomly. this is related to the dangerously in love couple. <3 visual. visual. visual. wish i had a link for the exact position i have in my head, so here’s a small example. hopefully i explained them well. :<

part three. <3

ivory sunflowers are imprinted along the frilly apron that hugs your body cutely, the coquette lace floral dress with a baby pink ribbon to create a corset style underneath. the warm scent of strawberry pie baking in the matcha green vintage oven blooms your heart. dusting flour over the counter to roll and mush at the dough you’ve created for the chicken pot pies, one of eren’s favorite meals. the sun was fairly hot today, your eyes fixating on the two beautiful tawny cows roaming your farm, their mouths chewing at grass as the wind blows serenely.

you told eren to keep a close eye on them while he was outside, watching your husband stand halfway down the driveway with sweat dripping from his brow as he tinkers with the engine of his polished black 1968 ford f100. he’s been having troubles with it this past week, and constantly handling it became tedious. he expressed his anger a few times now, this truck being his first big purchase for himself and he was having issues only a year later.

his light blue levi jeans and classic wife-beater was streaked with grease, clinging to his muscular thighs as he crouches low, peering intently at the mechanical innards. every so often, he wipes his hands on a rag before reaching for another tool, his calloused fingers moving with practiced ease. the sun casts a glow on the definition of his biceps as he lifts and maneuvers heavy parts. angelic brown strands held back by a black cap turned backwards.

you’ve been subconsciously humming along to the 70s and 80s rock tunes he has stationed on the radio. don’t dream it’s over currently on play. meanwhile, inside the cozy farmhouse kitchen, with the tantalizing aroma of food and your chocolate brown maltipoo who eren named honeybelle sleeps on her bed by the window — although this moment was romantic and peaceful to view, you weren’t too happy of a woman.

this was one of the few days he was off from work, and he’s been outside fixing his car since your eyes opened to an empty bedside. it’s nearing nighttime, and you’d spent half your day to your lonesome. shaving your body, doing your skincare routine and deep conditioning your handful of a curly head that’s currently pinned up away from your soft features. it’s felt like such a long time since the two of you enjoyed a full day together, let alone make love. your ovulation period not making this any easier on you, feeling like a wild animal in desperate heat. the only time you really interacted today was when you brought out a fat honey-turkey club sandwich, knowing he tends to forget to eat sometimes.

brushing the crust you created for the pot pie after layering them in crisscross patterns with butter, your mind wanders off, daydreaming as the sun begins to set and the sky blooms into color palettes of saffron and coral. the air outside turns warmer, and you study your husband once more, watching the ball in his throat shift as he chugs on a pitcher of water, droplets hitting his chest. his briefs are peaking out from his jeans, feet in his black timberlands per usual. his arms have veins streaming from the middle of his forearm to his big, dirty hands. silver wedding band on his right.

those slanted viridescent eyes of his catch your stare as he glares at you over the pitcher, swallowing and giving you a movie star smile with pearly whites. you smile faintly, returning the gesture. your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, shifting in your spot as you realize you’re biting your lips and almost riding the air. your blood is thrumming throughout your body, needing him to come inside right now.

the chicken pot pies are done in thirty minutes, each crust perfectly golden brown. and within that time, he’s still outside messing with his truck. you wanted to be understanding that he needed his truck in order to head to work tomorrow to further provide for you and the home as he does, but you can’t help that feeling of abandonment in your chest. you really didn’t want to cause an argument, but this was becoming irritating.

removing your apron, you slip on your outside shoes to head towards the garage where he resides, being faced with his broad back and gruff noises of agitation.

“baby.”

“yes, sweetie,” he replies quickly, groaning as he twists the wrench.

“dinner’s done. you’ve been out here all day. please come inside,” you pout, going to wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek on the column of his back.

eren removes his cap, scratching at his head before smoothing his hair back and placing it on again. “mhm, baby, i know. gimme like ‘nother hour, i just gotta connect the fuckin’ valve springs to the camshaft.“

“i thought it was just overheated?”

“yeah it was, the water pump wasn’t sending coolant through. the crankshaft wasn’t movin’, ‘n the radiator cap had too much pressure so the spring in the cap compressed ‘n flew over in the coolant reservoir. glad i ran to the auto shop beforehand.”

he’s saying a lot of shit you don’t understand if being frank. sighing, you let go of him, knowing he was real intricate with his truck so he definitely wasn’t going to be done in an hour. he stops what he’s doing to turn and face you, observing your expression.

“what i say about that, mama. huh?” eren sighs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “don’t be givin’ me that face. i’m tryin’ my best right now. swear ima be in, i’ll make it forty-five instead.”

“that’s not the point,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “fuck the dinner, i want you to be with me. you’ve been out here since eleven in the morning. not once have you come inside the house ‘n checked on me.”

his jaw clenches, your tone expected but not what he wanted to hear right now. “i ain’t tryna argue with you.”

“then don’t, help yourself to dinner.”

“꒰♡꒱.”

turning with clear attitude, you stroll back into the house, honeybelle barking softly as she follows you around. you feed someone in the house, pouring kibble into her beige bowl before patting her head and watching her scruff down the food. by this point you’d lost your appetite, huffing and puffing in your kitchen as you set the food back into the oven and made your way up the staircase.

to cool yourself down, you decide to run yourself a bath. twisting the gold faucet to fill the clawfoot tub with hot water, crouching on your knees to swish the water around to help form the bubbles. it was fully dark outside now, lighting aromatherapy candles and opening the double vintage windows that overlooked the farm you and eren spent years creating. stars in the sky and clouds camouflaging. undressing yourself, you grab a novel off of the shelf and submerge yourself into the tub, closing your eyes in bliss and leaning your head back against the spa pillow that elevates your neck.

eren manages to take approximately thirty minutes to finish up his project, starting up the truck and test driving it before he sighs in relief to see she’s back in shape. after parking it back into the garage, whistling at the cows to get them to follow him back into the barn after much needed playtime, he’s finally stepping into the house. honeybelle skips towards eren, sniffing at his ankle and wagging her tail. eren smiles, patting the top of her head.

“where’s your mommy, girl. huh?” he coed, scratching under her chin.

his eyes scope the dining area, finding the table set up just for the two with candles that were half burnt, blown out. the homemade sweet tea in a pitcher leaking with condensation, ice cubes melted. the pie you baked was set into a glass cake stand, and the pot pies are settled into the oven under the light. it was definitely clear you were upset with him, groaning and putting a hand on his head. he truly didn’t mean to take away this day from you, aware of how much you’ve missed him. hours at work are longer since the power plants needed more tending to from low employment.

just last week he had to go out of town and leave you for an entire three days to travel to another refinery. in that time you’d tend to your farm while also helping eren’s father with his. you knew what this lifestyle would mean for your relationship. things around the house including you will be secure, but having him come home exhausted to the point where you rarely spend as much time as you’d like with him was difficult. at most he had two days off a week, but a lot of times they’d call him in because someone else didn’t show up.

you’ve suggested countless of times that he should switch locations, but this one provided better benefits and he was close to a promotion that would also guarantee him extra off time. ‘it just takes time, baby.’ he’d constantly tell you. and you’re not one of those wives that complain about every single thing to make her husbands life harder, the two of you rarely even argue, but you do have your moments where you’re too stubborn.

the heavy thud of his boots sounds in the home as he heads up the stairs, softly calling your name to see where you reside. with his hand on his toned stomach under his shirt, he finds you rested in the tub, head turned away as you sleep comfortably. his tall frame leans against the doorframe, watching you with a pout on his face. you look angelic, cloud white bubbles flowing around your body, the jets in the tub keeping them in tact, slowly dissolving. the tankless water heater he installed a while back kept the water warm, making you comfortable enough to drift off to light slumber.

he makes his way closer to you, crouching before you to brush the tendrils of curls dangling in your face. your breath is light, lashes feathering against your cheekbones as he caresses your jaw with his thumb. he bends to pull the plug and drain the tub, not fond of you sleeping in water. you didn’t have it too high up, but people drown in tubs a lot more than you think.

you hum gently, eyes opening to see him looming over you, studying him in silence. sitting on his behind, he grabs a pedicure knife to clean under his nails, tattooed arm dangling into the tub and under the running faucet to remove the impurities.

“don’t like you fallin’ asleep in the tub, sweetie. you could drown. this isn’t your first time doin’ that,” his brows deepen, grabbing a nail brush and applying some of your cashmere and goat milk soap you currently smelt of with to scrub at his manicured fingernails.

you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms over your knees. “sorry.”

eren scans your face, eyeing the beauty of your entirety. perfectly white painted toes and matching nails, dark, big curls framing your face, slowly falling from the claw clip on the back of your head. the fullness of your lips with the cupids bow curve of them. soft skin, pretty eyes . . you were all his. such a beautiful wife. so when you’re mad at him, it makes him feel like shit. the way you look at him is different as well. your eyes are dead almost, a scolding glare in them.

“this day was supposed to be for us, i know,” he breaks the silence. “old shit was being difficult, ‘n you know i gotta drive far, sweetie. gettin’ ‘n a crash isn’t somethin’ you’d want happenin’ to me, right baby?”

the frown on your face serves how you feel about that. “i’d lose my mind if something bad happened to you.”

“ ‘n i’m not tryna guilt trip you or anything like that. i understand how you feel. i miss you just as much. i think about you all fuckin’ day at work. but, as time passes, eventually i’ll be in a better position ‘n you can have me with you whenever you want. jus’ lemme handle shit, okay?”

his strong hands go to caress your ankle, the silver jewelry shining there, lifting your foot to kiss at the shape of it, eyes low and focusing on you, unable to help the heat that swims within your hips and core.

“i really just needed you so bad today,” the sound of your throat clamping up causes him to go alert. you bow your head, wanting to hide your face as the tears threaten to spill. “it’s so stupid. i spent all that time pampering myself and cooking for us — i just hated being alone, even if you were still here.”

“c’mon, baby. why you cryin’ ? none of that. i’m sorry, truly,” he’s rising up on his knees, kissing at yours.

“missed you touching me,” you whimper, sniffling and pouting. “missed your kisses. i miss you.”

ah, so that’s what it is. he doesn’t make any effort to hide the smirk on his face, scoffing lowly while dropping his head. you can be such a brat when you’re horny, and given it’s been about two weeks since he’s last fucked you, he now gets why you begged for him to be with you today. quality time was still needed, but he can tell by the way your body tenses and your lips part to release tiny gasps while he strokes the pads of his fingers across your hips . . that you’re ovulating.

“that’s all you needin’, mama? some touches?”

salvia trails down your throat as you swallow, thighs squeezing together out of reflex, throbbing from those damned eyes of his, nodding with hooded lids. “mm hmm. so bad.”

“mm, yeah?”

the butterflies in your stomach swarm as he brings his face closer to yours, his touches on your skin causes you to grind when his mouth suddenly connected with your throat, your jaw widening as you gasp and toss your head back, his mouth sloppily kissing at the right side of your body. lips moving from your collarbone, each sound coming from him emphasized as he sucks at your chest, pulling your areola into his mouth and trailing his tongue down the side of your stomach, down to your hip and the crease between your thigh and waist. every kiss and lick is rough, his groans exaggerated as you moan from every touch.

“ooo, fuck. oh my god,” your hips can’t stop moving, his tongue gliding back up before his fingers indent into your cheeks, turning your face to his so he could kiss you roughly, sliding his tongue on yours.

eren doesn’t kiss you for long, detaching your lips with a lewd slick, both of your lips pouty before he’s arching over the tub and guiding his mouth along the left side of your body, repeating his motion of sucking and licking you. your eyes gloss back, spreading your thighs further apart when he gets closer to your pussy, swallowing your bottom lip inward.

he cocks his head back to lewdly spit over your clit, the string of saliva and the vein on the side of his thick neck making your face heat up. your mouth hangs open as he takes his fingers and slowly spreads it over, grumbling, "want me all over you," before rubbing your clit in smooth circles, groaning at the weak noises you made.

you were so needy, every touch he gives you consuming, a lust and desire looming over you that only he could give you. your hips twitch and hike midair, and your positive you've made your lip bleed by how hard you bit into it, doe eyes hazily watching his face. brows furrowed as he tentatively paced his fingers, repositioning himself so he could tug you down flat in the tub, your knees pressed to your chest as he clutches onto the sides of the tub.

“hold ‘em there, be good.”

a squeal envelops eren’s ears once he cranes his neck and drops his mouth over the puffy nub, enclosing his lips to kiss at your folds. your pussy is soaked, dripping between your ass cheeks, inner thighs twitching while he licks you up. the cap on his head continues to hold his hair back, his biceps flexing from every noise you make, trying to keep his composure. he wanted to make you feel real good, you deserve it, and he’s missed you.

“b—babyyy,” a mix between a groan and a whimper flows from you, keeping your legs open and squeezing at your chest hard, slowly rocking your pussy on his face, voice shuddering from the feel of his light stubble on your soft skin.

eren spanks the back of your thigh, dragging his mouth to soothe the feel after with an open mouth followed with more of his tongue. he loved tasting you, clearly. melting on the velvet of his tongue like sugar. his chin is doused by your slickness as he buried his face deep, circling your clit in languid strokes, lower lip dropping to bring it back into his mouth. you’re never embarrassed by how loud you get, knowing you’ll be reprimanded if you do keep silent. so a pathetic, drawn out whine fills the space when he removes his mouth.

“feed it to me,” eren hisses, spanking the back of your thigh again, french kissing either side of your ass. the hungry aggression through his eyes tell you to listen, his body almost entirely inside of the tub to make sure he’s giving you what you need the right way. “c’mon, girl.”

the gruffness in his tone makes you squirm, like he’s just as pent up as you. easing your hips up, you hold your legs fully up so they’re past your ears, gripping on his arm for balance as you dip your hips so your pussy connects with his face, your face curling up as he spits and slurps, your body trembling.

“mmmahh,” you weakly moan, chest heaving and breath stuttering, his tongue occasionally dipping into your hole to taste that sweeter place, eren grunting and bouncing his head along with your movements, teeth every now and then biting at your inner thighs. “g-g’na—squirt, f-fuck, nnnngh.”

eren acts on instinct, reaching to grab the back of your neck as your body arches forward to hold you so you won’t hurt yourself, swallowing at your achy bud as you coat his throat in your juices, humming and savoring every ounce. the static of your legs as you sing out your moans makes his dick harder, straining in the confinements of his jeans.

he pulls away, your body flat within the tub as he stands and undoes the leather belt on his waist, ears perking up from the sound of his zipper and then awaits the weighty girth of his dick. blush pink tip and tan with a protruding vein trailing up the underside. you find energy to lift yourself up, clinging to the side of the tub like a mermaid on rocks. reaching for the back of his leg to pull him closer, eren’s brows lowered at the sight of your eyes setting into seductiveness.

your mouth opens instinctively, giving him those big brown irises that has his dick jump in your face. eren’s waist spasm backwards, fingers grasping the coils of your hair to stop you. “no, no. not now. y’know you’ll make me cum too quick.”

“y’know you can’t fuck me till i taste it,” you pout, evidently upset, keeping your lips parted as a need to have it. “just a taste, daddy. i want it.”

“fuckin’ hell,” eren clenches his jaw, pupils dilating, lowering his jeans and boxers to his thighs to inch his dick to your lips. “yeah, jus’ a lil taste, baby. gimme those pretty lips.”

eren moans when you waste no time intaking half of his dick, tongue licking at the underside and slurping him up, bobbing your head and letting him hit the back of your throat in nasty squelches. his head falls back then to the side as he squeezes his eyes shut, attractive neck showcasing, grunting and slowly thrusting into your throat.

“f-fuck, ꒰♡꒱. love this sweet fuckin’ mouth of yours. show me that throat, baby,” two hands go to clutch your neck, eren pulling his dick out, salvia dribbling down your bottom lip. you widen your mouth, angling your face up so he can see your tongue in it’s entirety, the tight ring in the hollow of your esophagus calling him.

“good girl, take this shit deep,” he whispers painfully, teeth clamped together in a hiss as he lays the heaviness of his dick on your flat tongue, pushing in till his pretty, leaky tip connects with the back of your throat, constricting around him. “a-ahh, yeahh.”

you let him use you as long as he anticipates, eyes drooping low, trying to focus on eye contact with your nose mushed to his happy trail, the scent of the day and his cologne seeped into his skin. you heave when he pulls back entirely, whining and riding the air. he’s so damn masculine it makes you so feminine and submissive.

“one more time, hold it,” bending his back slightly, he slides back into your mouth, gently holding your neck in place to thrust a few times more, deep melodies of grunts and hisses pouring as he furrows his brows and studies how you made his dick wet and shiny, balls slapping against your chin.

with your mouth stretched open, you take him in as deep as he likes, closing your eyes to shut off your brain so you don’t choke. eren holds you there, huffing out ‘ooh fuckin’ god, baby.’ before smoothing his hand on the side of your face after he withdraws his hips to let you breathe, his own chest knocking from holding his breath.

“love you,” eren reminds you as he peppers kisses all over your face and you smile, a continuous gesture he’d do every time to make you aware, especially when he’s too rough.

the trance you have on his dick is sickening, following it as he maneuvered around the bathroom, retrieving a towel he spread on the lower part of the tub before entering, not bothering to take off his boots. you giggle as he hovers above you, biting at your nail and shifting your body beneath him so he could slot in. the weight of his cock lays on your stomach, eren grinding to rub along your folds, coaxing your hidden clit to show. eren steadies his figure, knuckles turning white from him grasping either side of the tub and holding himself up by indenting his feet into the towel.

“i fuckin’ need you,” eren growls, biting at your neck before licking and shifting his hips to nudge the tip against your opening, easily sliding in slow.

the warmth fills your face again, abdomen pinching from pain and pleasure, pawing at his slightly dirty wifebeater and hiking it further up his chest you were desperate to touch. the silver chain around his neck sways in your face, squinting your eyes and dropping your jaw when he begins pounding into you with the need he expressed. the sluice of your pussy is loud, his balls slapping against the rounds of your ass while your thighs hit his pelvis.

“this what you needed, right? what you been whinin’ for?” eren grunts in your face, taking your lips in his for passionate kiss, moaning together.

“y-yesss, mmmph,” the pleasure swarming in your stomach feels foreign, whimpering from every stroke he gives you, clawing at his sides. it felt so fucking good, your eyes scrolling and your breath inordinate along with his. “dick feel so good, ‘ren.”

“mhm hmm,” his face curls up, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your cheek and behind your ear, his touches making your body burn. “i hear it, she’s creamy as fuck.”

and it was, peering down between where you two connect to see him covered in you, the sticky slaps making his eyes lose focus, rutting into you harder. so hard it makes you scream, that sweet spot being pressured and your tummy flutters.

“e—ren,” you can barely see him, whines and whimpers being your only way of communication. spreading yourself wider by holding yourself open with both hands, arching your chest into his face where he sloppily eats at your brown skin again.

“talk.”

“annngh,” your lips turn into a pout, face completely gone. every word and sound coming out brokenly. “f-feelin’ something. s’so fuckin’ deep in me. you fuck me so good. w’na cum on it.”

“mhm, cum on it. cum on your dick baby, make it creamier.”

it’s quiet at first when you cum, legs shaking almost violently as eren lets go of the tub and lays his entire weight onto you, tucking you fully underneath to angle his hips and dig his dick in deeper, rough and steady pivots making you reach for his hair to tug, knocking off his hat. his fingers grip your cheeks, big hand almost covering your whole face as he brings his forehead to yours, growling rough.

“yess. give. it. to. me. lemme hear it.”

“g-god, y-yessss, fuck. right there, right there. please don’t fuckin’ stop . . oh my god.”

a long, exasperated groan disperses, vibrating in your chest and in his ears, hiccups and gasps following as you clench and suck him tighter. he feels the throb from your orgasm, dick twitching inside of you, rolling his waist and keeping you close to let you ride it out and feel it longer.

“take your time, there we go. feel it all.”

it pulsates harder from hearing him, grasping his wrist and releasing what’s been caged within you; a cry. “oh . . my . . g-god. eren!”

it’s not that you’re hurt, it’s that you’re experiencing too much at once. overwhelming pleasure, your husband’s embrace, the way he speaks to you, fucks you, the love you have for him, how he loves you, and even the annoying rise of hormones from your ovulation. a cry bolts from you, body convulsing and your voice dying out, grinding mindlessly on his dick and kissing his lush lips.

“that’s it, it’s okay.”

eren’s kissing all over your face, soothing you and giving you time before he holds you close to his chest and turns himself around so he’s leaning up, resting his head back on the spa pillow and twisting you so your back is to his chest. he balances your weight, taking the initiative to sling your right arm over his shoulder, eren smoothing his palms up the back of your thighs before locking your knees to your chest with his forearms.

“you good, baby?” eren whispers, smooching your cheek again.

chewing at your lips, you nod. “uh huh.”

eren moans as your fingers thread through the brown coils of his hair, tugging and planting a kiss on the shell of his ear, jumping slightly from the way he patted your pussy with his dick, sinking back in deliciously slow. with your lips parting in sync, eren flattens his feet to fuck up inside of you, your walls spasming from how good it feels and the sensitivity.

collecting the tresses of his messy hair, you fist it harder which makes him fuck you harder. your tits bouncing on your chest you fondle at.

“watch us,” he says, placing both of his hands on either side of your head to force your head down to stare at how he fucked you, keeping your legs locked with his arms.

the sloppy collision of your stickiness coating his cock that plunges into you roughly, his heavy hits making the both of you whimper. eren begins to grow so weak from being in your pussy and the hard labor he’d done today, and you can tell by the slowness in his pace after a few minutes. he’s throbbing hard, knowing he’s close to cumming, wanting to making him feel it too. he also had to get up early and still eat dinner, so did you.

“ ‘ren,” slithering your head from his grasp, you guide them to sit at your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as you tug at his hair again and nibble at your bottom lip.

moving your body further up, you arch your chest forward and implant your feet flat to the surface, snapping your ass down to fuck him instead. eren tightens his hold on you, jaw slacking and squeezing his eyes shut while placing his forehead on your shoulder. you gasp, bouncing on him and constantly groping at your chest, skin clapping louder.

“you g’na cum in me, baby?” you speak with a whiny tone, taunting him.

“y-yeah, baby. please. bounce on that shit harder,” eren sucks at your side again, retracting his hand to land a harsh spank under your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “fuck, you do it so good, ꒰♡꒱. do it so good.”

“mmmm,” you smile drunkenly. “this daddy’s pussy, right?”

eren whines, and you love when he gets this way, so horny he lets his guard down. makes sounds he wouldn’t usually make. his tongue on you again causes your hips to stutter, that pressure building back up, a shaky moan pressing out the harder you fuck yourself on him.

“it’s daddy’s pussy. oooh, shit baby. don’t stop, i’m g’na bust all in your p—ussy.”

“all in my pussy?” harder, faster, you pounce your ass down, knees hiking and reconnecting as you drop down completely, feeling your orgasm near and riding him by scooting your ass on him.

“all . . in it— fuck. good girl.”

weakness fills your bones, loosing your balance completely, eren bellowing out curses and grunts as he locks his hand around your neck to pull your back to him again, swiveling his hips with yours while you both ride out the wave. heaving on the side of your face after he lays his cheek on yours, warm cum leaking into you while you gush all over him in exchange.

eren softly kisses at your shoulder, embracing you in his hold and moaning from your walls clenching on him. you can’t even find the energy to speak, enduring the comforting silence and weak breathing. rubbing your arms and molding his face with yours, skin to skin a necessity for him. rocking you side by side, smiling into his forearm he used to lock against your neck, inhaling the coconut fragrance in your hair.

“we need a shower, and that chicken pie i worked hard to make for you.”

“and that strawberry pie,” eren chuckles within the crook of your neck. “i’ll eat it all just for you.”

“you better.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[paper-mario-wiki]

she offers you a meal to curb the sickness of hunger in the pit of your belly

[slxttybrbie]

BED TIME Cw: smut mdni, college student!reader, dilf!nanami, reader's a babysitter

The apartment is spotless, warm-toned and quiet, except for the low hum of a lullaby playing from the nightlight in the bedroom. You ease the door closed after tucking in Nanami's daughter, who—despite some initial shyness—took to you quickly. A few bedtime stories, a glass of warm milk, and a silly little song you made up on the spot, and she was out.

You sink into the couch and exhale. Babysitting wasn’t your first choice, but between school, rent, and the laughable pay at your campus job, you were desperate. When you saw the ad—“Evening babysitter needed. One child. Quiet home. Good pay”—you jumped.

And the man who interviewed you? Intimidating. Broad-shouldered. Polished in a suit and tie with that deep, thoughtful voice. He barely looked at you during the interview, only nodded at your qualifications and said, "You're hired."

Professional. Cold.

Which is why it throws you completely off when the front door opens, and Nanami steps in looking... not that.

He’s in his usual suit, yes, but the tie is loose. The first two buttons undone. His blond hair slightly mussed. And when he takes off his glasses to clean them with the hem of his shirt—revealing sharp eyes and tired shadows beneath—you feel something unfamiliar ripple through you.

Want.

"You're still here," he says, his voice deep and low, a little softer than usual. "Thank you."

You blink and stand quickly, grabbing your bag. "Of course. She was great. Went right to sleep. I was just about to head out."

"You hungry?"

You stop. "What?"

He walks toward the kitchen, rolling his sleeves up. His forearms—strong, veiny, dusted with light hair—catch your attention more than they should.

"I figured I’d make something quick. Nothing fancy, just pasta. You’re welcome to stay."

You hesitate.

But your stomach growls, and his gaze flicks down to your abdomen for a fraction of a second before he turns and opens a cabinet.

"...Sure. I guess I could eat."

Dinner smells like garlic and fresh basil. The kitchen is dimly lit, cozy. You sit on a stool at the counter while he moves with practiced ease. He's quiet, but not cold. More... observant. The kind of silence that watches.

“You’re in college?” he asks as he sets a plate in front of you.

You nod. "Second year. Double major."

He hums. "Ambitious."

You smile a little, feeling warm. "Trying to be."

Halfway through the meal, the conversation softens. You talk about your classes, about his work (he’s vague), about the city. But every time your eyes meet, the air feels heavier.

You excuse yourself to the sink, rinsing your plate. His comes next to yours a second later. He’s behind you—close. You can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

Then, quietly: "You shouldn’t wear shorts that small around me."

Your breath catches.

You look down at your legs. They’re modest enough. Mostly. But now you feel the burn of his gaze against the backs of your thighs.

"I—"

"Don’t worry," he cuts in. "I’ll pretend I haven’t been looking."

He steps closer, his hand bracing against the counter beside your waist. You turn your head and he's right there, his mouth inches from your ear.

"Unless... you don’t want me to pretend."

You swallow hard. "I don’t."

He exhales like he’s been holding back for hours. The next second, your back hits the counter, and his lips are on yours—hungry, restrained but crumbling. His tongue slides against yours, and the low groan he lets out makes your knees weak.

He lifts you onto the counter with ease, spreading your thighs. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your ass, one slipping under your shirt and tracing up your spine.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he mutters, kissing down your neck. "Coming here smelling all sweet, looking like temptation in a tank top and too-short shorts."

Your fingers clutch his dress shirt. You’re dizzy from the kiss, from the tension finally snapping.

"I didn’t mean to," you whisper.

He chuckles darkly. "Doesn’t matter. I’m done pretending."

His hand slips beneath your waistband, fingers brushing over your panties. You’re soaked—shamefully so.

"So wet already," he murmurs, pushing the fabric aside. "You were waiting for this."

Your head falls back as he circles your clit, slow and deliberate.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he breathes against your ear.

"Don’t stop," you plead.

His mouth crushes yours again. Fingers pumping into you—slow, then faster. Curling just right. You moan into his mouth and he swallows every sound.

"Such a good girl," he pants. "Letting me do this. Letting me touch what no one else has."

Your orgasm hits hard—embarrassingly fast—but he doesn’t stop. He draws it out, fingers still working you as he kisses the tears from the corners of your eyes.

"You can take more," he says. "You’re gonna take all of me."

And you want it. You want all of him.

Even if it’s wrong. Even if you’re never just the babysitter again.

ꨄ︎slxttybrbie | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[M.list]