#best egg beaters

[thekitchnpro]

Top 5 Egg Beater that You Will Love Most

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Top 5 Egg Beater that You Will Love Most

The egg beater has been in existence since at least the 18th century, and they come in an array of different shapes and sizes. Whether you need an egg beater to whip egg whites into a meringue or you want to blend small amounts of liquid, the variety will let you choose the perfect one for your needs. In order to help you decide which one is best, we’ve put together this list of our top five egg beaters for your kitchen.

Cuisinart

Buy Now! The Cuisinart egg beater is easy to use and mixes well, but it doesn’t have a whisk attachment. If you’re looking for an egg beater with a whisk attachment, you might want to look at another brand of the mixer. The mixing process can become messy if your eggs are too frothy, as is sometimes common with a blender-style mixer. If you need your eggs beaten quickly and consistently without any hassle, the Cuisinart egg beater is an excellent option that won’t let you down! If all you need from your egg beater is a whisk, then one other option that should probably get your attention is KitchenAid.

This company offers a wide variety of attachments including whisks and other beating tools that help make kitchen tasks more convenient. It’s really up to what type of experience you’re looking for in terms of convenience whether it be from saving time or money or both—as well as performance in areas like how consistently your eggs get mixed together. That said, there aren’t any bad options here so take some time to decide which way works best for you! Remember: all three picks listed above deliver high-quality results even though they vary in design and function just slightly.

 OXO Good Grips

Buy Now! The OXO Good Grips Egg Beater’s soft, non-slip handle makes it comfortable to hold, even when whisking several eggs at once. It can also blend a variety of other foods, from cream and mayonnaise to cake batter and pie filling. The Egg Beater is part of a line of quality kitchen tools manufactured by OXO International. The company is well known for its Good Grips line of products that feature a unique ergonomic design intended to reduce strain on users’ hands and wrists.

While many home cooks find standard whisks difficult to grip comfortably, OXO’s innovative design is refreshingly straightforward. To use an OXO Good Grips whisk, all you have to do is grab it by its soft handles and go. The uniquely shaped body does all of the work for you! If you or someone in your household has difficulty grasping or holding onto regular whisks, then an OXO might be just what you need. Even if there are no mobility issues involved, some cooks say they prefer using an egg beater instead of regular whisks because they are gentler on delicate foods like eggs and sauces without compromising performance.

Dash Rapid Egg Beater

Buy Now! The Dash Rapid Egg Beater is easy to use, durable and affordable. It comes in three different sizes of beaters. The beaters are made of stainless steel, which means they’re resistant to rusting or corrosion. They’re constructed with an ergonomic handle, which makes them easy to control when you’re beating your eggs. The egg beater also has a rubberized suction base that keeps it firmly in place while you use it. The beater works really well for beating both soft and hard-boiled eggs; however, if you like making scrambled eggs for omelets, you might want to get another device because there are better products on the market for those tasks. Even so, what you can do with these beaters is impressive.

The dash rapid egg beater delivers more than 12,000 rotations per minute so it’s powerful enough to thoroughly mix ingredients within seconds. This helps ensure your food will taste consistent every time without having large chunks or pieces of any ingredient. I was able to prepare perfect cupcakes after just mixing one thing at a time into my batter while using these beaters by hand.

KitchenAid

Buy Now! The KitchenAid electric mixer is a kitchen workhorse and it can do an awesome job whipping up eggs, too. With speeds up to 1725 rpm and a glass bowl that locks into place, there’s no need to worry about slip-ups or spills when mixing your batter. It’s also got all of the standard attachments you’d expect from a home mixer: wire whip, flat beater, dough hook, pouring shield, and food grinder with five grinding plates. In addition to all of those attachments, it has a turbo beater attachment for extra thick batters. A little more expensive than most other mixers on our list but well worth it if you plan on using your machine frequently in your kitchen. Also comes in fun colors! Cheers to orange power tools.

 Immersion Blender

Buy Now! Immersion blenders can be used to blend up your favorite soup, chop vegetables and even whip up a quick cake batter. The best thing about immersion blenders is that they are easy to use and take up minimal space in your kitchen. However, as a downside, it can be difficult to evenly mix ingredients. Make sure you choose an immersion blender with plenty of power as those with weak motors will struggle at heavy tasks such as mixing cake batter or blending ice. Immersion blenders generally do not have other attachments for kitchen uses such as food processors or whisks but can still perform other kitchen duties adequately.

If you find yourself wanting more functions from your appliance, consider getting a stand mixer as well as many include whisking and kneading attachments; we rated three blenders using stand mixers that performed admirably. Our top pick is Breville BSB510XL Control Grip 3-Speed 200-watt Immersion Hand Blender ($99) because of its superior design and powerful motor (2+ HP). When choosing an immersion blender make sure to read our guide on how to choose what type of egg beater fits best for your kitchen.

Would like to purchase a egg beater? We have reasonable and affordable egg beater. Do check it out from here:

[best-appliance-tournament]

Talkie Toaster is the most annoying appliance alive.

Eggbeaters are useful.

[fineartphotographysandiego]

Best Vintage Egg Beater are practical and can still be used for tasks like whipping eggs, cream, or batter, proving that quality craftsmanship never goes out of style. Explore the finest collection of vintage egg beater.

[mossy-crow0]

Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep, Pigeon Lord, The One, Warrior of Rock and Roll, Singer/Songwriter of Gillion and the Tidestriders' hit single "The Hole in Your Heart", Moisture Master, Horse Tamer, Defenestrator of the Adulterous, Friend of Dugon, Dugon's Best Friend, Walking Fish, Fish, Dirt Eater, Chum of Chibo and Chums, Co-Captain Gill of the Riptide Pirates, Co-captain of the Albatross, Companion of Pretzel, Paramount Champion, Knighter of Julian That One Time, Pretzel Carrier, Leviathan Tamer, Serpent Rider, Brother of Dugon, Healer of the Sick, Friend of Duke D Dukem Duke of Dooke, Eater of Grass, Beater of Ass, Grandma's Good Boy, Dismantler of Evil, Eater of Shit, Capitalism Hater, Royalty Assassinator, Sufferer of the Spice, Weed Eater, Slayer of Evil, Loffinlot Liberator, Fruitninja, Eater of Sand, Juice Enjoyer, Rescuer of John, Fishy, Bitcoin Miner, NFT Purchaser, Driplord, Grandmillion, The One Who Will Change The World, Grimm Slayer, In Need of a Dad, Goblin Gobbler, Lime Lord, Tuber, Chip's Nightmare Fuel, Monsoon And Moon Son, Eater of Ass, Pretzel Seeker, Vibe Master, Pussy Slayer, Murderer of Vice Admiral Kuba Kinta, Gillion Mother-fucking Titty-sucking Tidestrider, Egg Hater, Bong Obliterator, Baby signer, Babygirl

wow that’s a lot. anyway.

[amjustgoose]

Big fan of those fanarts of all of Charlie's characters where it's just

- Charlie Slimecicle

- Charlie Slimecicle

- Charlie Slimecicle

- dnd character that vaguely looks like Charlie Slimecicle

- dnd character that really looks like Charlie Slimecicle

- SIR GILLION TIDESTRIDER, CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA, HERO OF THE DEEP, PIGEON LORD, THE ONE, WARRIOR OF ROCK AND ROLL, SINGER/SONGWRITER OF GILLION AND THE TIDESTRIDERS' HIT SINGLE "THE HOLE IN YOUR HEART", MOISTURE MASTER, HORSE TAMER, DEFENESTRATOR OF THE ADULTEROUS, FRIEND OF DUGON, DUGON'S BEST FRIEND, DUGON'S PAL, WALKING FISH, FISH, DIRT EATER, CHUM OF CHIBO AND CHUMS, CO-CAPTAIN GILL OF THE RIPTIDE PIRATES, CO-CAPTAIN OF THE ALBATROSS, COMPANION OF PRETZEL, PARAMOUNT CHAMPION, KNIGHTER OF JULIAN THAT ONE TIME, PRETZEL CARRIER, LEVIATHAN TAMER, SERPENT RIDER, BROTHER OF DUGON, HEALER OF THE SICK, FRIEND OF DUKE D DUKEM DUKE OF DOOKE, EATER OF GRASS, BEATER OF ASS, GRANDMA'S GOOD BOY, DISMANTLER OF EVIL, EATER OF SHIT, CAPITALISM HATER, ROYALTY ASSASSINATOR, SUFFERER OF THE SPICE, WEED EATER, SLAYER OF EVIL, LOFFINLOT LIBERATOR, FRUITNINJA, EATER OF SAND, JUICE ENJOYER, RESCUER OF JOHN, FISHY, BITCOIN MINER, NFT PURCHASER, DRIPLORD, GRANDMILLION, THE ONE WHO WILL CHANGE THE WORLD, ROLLER OF TENS, GRIMM SLAYER, IN NEED OF A DAD, GOBLIN GOBBLER, LIME LORD, TUBER, CHIP'S NIGHTMARE FUEL, MONSOON AND MOON SON, EATER OF ASS, PRETZEL SEEKER, VIBE MASTER, PUSSY SLAYER, MURDERER OF VICE ADMIRAL KUBA KENTA, GILLION MOTHER-FUCKING TITTY-SUCKING TIDESTRIDER, EGG HATER, BONG OBLITERATOR, BABY SIGNER, BABYGIRL, THE RED ONE, SKILLION LIEDSNEAKER, FISHY BOY, TIDESTRIZZER, RIZZ REVERENT, JORTS STORM, HERO OF THE HOUR, POPPER OF SACKS, TREE HUGGER, SUMMONER RIDER AND BROTHER OF LUCY.

[number1jeonginstan]

Part of my Valentine's Day Collab!

A/N: My second installment!!! I wrote this one in one sitting, hopefully, y'all like it, please give me feedback because I love to read it <333

Pairing: FWB!Hyunin x Reader

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (obvi, it's me, Ju...), sex dice, foot job (m! receiving), fingering, cumming inside, fluffy sex but also not??!

Hyunjin, your best friend from high school, the man you had been sleeping with for the last 5 months because neither of you could find anyone to work around your schedules to sleep with, the person who you were getting drunk off of the expensive wine he was gifted, was begging you to roll a sex dice. 

It all started with the two of you deciding to spend Valentine’s Day together, instead of falling into cheap marketing tricks of spending upwards of hundreds of dollars on your significant others, you decided to spend it with your fuck buddy.

You had come to his apartment at around 7 at night, holding a box of chocolates that your co-worker had given you as well as takeout food for the two of you. 

The two of you sat down, watching a random show while munching on the Chinese food you had brought. 

“They definitely fucked after the episode was shot” Hyunjin giggled, taking a bite of the egg roll that was in your hand causing you to let out a quick “hey!” 

“I believe it” you replied back, taking note of their on-screen chemistry. “Their chemistry is just a bit too good” 

“Kind of like ours?” he giggled, stealing another piece of your food even though he had his own on the plate in front of him. 

“I aspire to be as delusional as you” you giggled, stealing a bite of his noodles as a way to get back at him. “Hey! Stop stealing my food!” he shouted, wrapping his arms around his plate to try and hide it from you. 

“So when you do it, it’s okay, but when I do it hell freezes over? That’s not very kind of you Mr.World Renound Model”  

“Exactly!” he grinned, kissing your lips before going back to the show in front of the two of you. 

Your brain short-circuited for a second, he had just kissed you, on the lips, when the two of you weren’t having sex. This is the first time he’s ever done that, maybe it was on accident you thought to yourself, trying to distract yourself, you quickly asked him if he had anything to drink. 

Maybe that’s what you had to do, loosen up, maybe you were just being a bit too up-tight because it was Valentine’s Day and you had vowed to never do couple-shit, but here you were with Hyunjin, but the two of you were just friends with benefits, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you watched him open the bottle of wine for the two of you. You watched as his muscles flexed, his body ridden in only a black wife beater and grey sweatpants, the outline of his dick could be easily seen. 

You could feel yourself getting wet at the sight of him, no wonder he was so famous, he’s fucking beautiful. 

“I don’t have glasses anymore” he groaned taking out two mugs from his cabinet. One was littered with cats and the other with Minho’s face. 

You looked at the mugs gobsmacked as it took you a second to process them, and as soon as you did, you busted out laughing. “Holy shit, are these the only things you have?” you giggled, watching him pour the contents of the bottle into the mugs. 

“Hey, they were a gift from the cat lover himself” he replied, an offended look on his face. 

“I’m just kidding, this will do just fine” you grinned, taking the cup with Minho’s face from him only to be stopped. “I don’t want you drinking out of this one” he quickly stated, handing it back to him only to grab the one with Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. 

Little did you know the reason was because Hyunjin felt possessive over you, he didn’t want you drinking out a cup with another man’s face, an attractive one at that. 

He watched as you took a sip of the drink in your hands, the way the red liquor stained your lips, the slight blush on your cheeks as the two of you drank out of your designated cups. He could feel his cock slowly stir in his pants, the sight of you was enough to get him hard, but it wasn’t just that.

He wanted to kiss you for hours, go on dates, and cuddle with you, but he was too scared. Too scared to ask, too scared that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings. He sighed as you ate one of the chocolates you brought, watching the way you licked the caramel sauce off your fingers, grinning at the sight of your childish ways.

The two of you reminisced as you drank backs pressed against his couch, each sip of the fruity smooth liquid causing more and more of your secrets to slip, your laughs overlapping one another. It was peaceful, the sound of his laughter sounded like home, and for him vice versa. 

As more secrets spilled from both of your lips, he stated something that caught your attention. “Hannie actually gifted me sex die for Christmas as a joke” he chuckled, reminiscing on how he glared at him as he saw what was in the velvet box. 

“I thought they were the earrings I really wanted, but nope sex die. He did actually give me the earrings too, so not all was lost” he giggled, pouring more wine into his mug. 

“Want to try them out?” you shrugged watching as he almost gagged on his drink. 

“You really want to?” he stuttered, wiping the bit of wine that dribbled out of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I mean, why not? We can put that gag gift to use!” you grinned, crawling over to him, and straddling his lap. “Come on Jinnie, do you not want to?” 

You looked up at him with the doe eyes he was a sucker for. He couldn’t say no to you, especially when you had asked ever so kindly.

He picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips arms around his neck as he walked you to his room, gently laying you on his bed as he rummaged through his desk for the die. 

You were on your back, hair splayed around you as you watched him, his eyebrows becoming unknit as he finally found them in the back of a drawer. 

“Here” he giggled, giving you the die to roll. “Let’s see” you whispered, looking at what it landed on. 

Right there, clear as day, the body part had landed on foot, the act was job. “Guess I’m giving you a foot job!” you giggled, watching his face go from one of worry to one of perplexity. 

“A what!” he shouted a bit too loud, causing you to laugh. “Come on, don’t tell me you are scared. Plus, aren’t you the one who wanted to and I quote “eat my feet”?”

“I was, but this might be uncomfortable for you” he whined, not wanting you to do something you weren’t one hundred percent sure about. 

“I’m not uncomfortable, plus I want to try it. If I don’t like it, or you don’t we don’t have to do it again” you explained to him, getting up on your knees to be face to face with him, your lips kissing his in reassurance. 

“I mean if you aren’t opposed to it–” 

“I knew it, Seungmin owes me 100 bucks” 

“You bet on me having a foot fetish?” he stuttered out. 

“Yes, now lay back” you stated, dragging him onto his bed, his back against the headboard as your foot brushed against his cock. He let out a groan at the contact, his dick already hard as soon as you brought up the die.

You slowly rubbed your foot against his sweatpants, watching the way his head was thrown back, slight moans leaving his lips as he pulled down his joggers. His already erect cock slapping against his stomach. 

You slowly brushed your pedicured foot along the underside of his cock, watching the way he bit his lip as your toes ran along his tip. “Fuck baby, just like that” he groaned, a hand slapping over his mouth as your toes curled along his length. 

Each pump of your foot around his cock made him closer and closer. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum” he whined. You slowly got up from your position across from him, straddling him as you kissed his lips. 

His lips formed a pout as you pulled away, your hands gravitating towards his head, brushing his hair behind his ear. “Has anyone told you how pretty you are” he whispered out loud, taking in the rise and fall of your chest.

He slowly pulled your shirt off your body, groaning at the sight of your tits, a black lacy bra adorning your breasts. “Fuck, these are so beautiful too” he whispered against your collarbones, kissing and biting them as he slowly traveled to your breasts.

He reached behind your back, unclipping your bra only to hear your breath catch in the air as he slowly pinched one of your nipples, sucking on the other one. 

“Jinnie” you whined, your hand running through his hair once again as he continued to abuse your chest.

“Such a whiney baby for me, I love it” he groaned as he left marks all over your chest, cupping your breasts. 

“Need you” you whined feeling your pussy drip at every passing moment that he wasn’t inside of you. 

“My baby needs me?” he chuckled, kissing your lips before slowly pulling down your own sweats, and throwing them somewhere in your room, along with your underwear. 

Before you could even do anything, he flipped you over, your body underneath him as he took sight of you. Your chest is littered with hickies, and your lips plump from kissing him over and over again. 

You were heaving as your hair surrounded your face. You were art and he wanted to stare at you forever. He took sight of your leaking pussy, his fingers trailing across it, catching the juices.

“You are so wet for me sweetheart, can’t believe you were trying to help me without taking care of yourself, such a selfless little girl” he whispered before slowly pushing his fingers into your cunt, stretching you out on his long fingers. 

“Just for you Jinnie, want to be such a good girl for you” you whimpered, your walls clenching around his fingers. 

“Yeah, you are a good girl for me, such a good girl, the best” he chuckled, kissing your lips as his fingers continued to abuse your cunt. He wanted to find that spot inside of you that made you go crazy. 

“You want to cum baby? Want to cum for me?” 

“Want to cum on your cock” you whined as you felt your high get closer as he slowly brought one of his fingers down to your clit. 

“My poor baby wants me to cum inside her, is that what’s it?” 

“Yes, want your cum Jinnie, please want it deep inside of me” 

“Who am I to deny such a sweet girl?” 

He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, eyes blown out at the sight of you whining at the loss of contact. He slowly ran the tip of his cock along your folds, watching as your poor little hole clenched around nothing but the air.

He gently slapped the tip against your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips before dragging it down and slowly pressing his cock into your cunt, watching you as your eyes rolled behind your head as he sheathed the entirety of his cock into your tight little cunt. 

“Take my big cock” he groaned, slowly thrusting inside of you, your back arching slightly off the bed as he thrusts into you harder, lifting your hips up so he could hit the spot he had with his fingers minutes prior.

“Is it good baby?” 

“So good, such a good cock, only cock I want” you whimpered as his thrusts began to get faster, a finger trailing down to your clit giving you the extra stimulation you needed. 

“There we go baby, come on, cum on my cock. You can do it, cum on Jinnie’s cock” he groaned into your ear, feeling the way your cunt was wrapped around him, sucking his cock in as he fucked you. 

“Ah– too deep” you whined, you could feel him hit your cervix, the tip of his cock thrusting against it, but he didn’t stop. 

“There we go baby, good girls cum on my cock” he groaned, he could tell that your high was nearby the noises that escaped your lips, and the way your thighs were wrapped around his torso. 

It only took one more particularly deep thrust for your cunt to spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

“So good!” you screamed, your head lolling to the side as he continued to pound into as he chased his own high. 

“Fuck, gonna cum into this tight little pussy” he whined into your neck, his thrusts getting more sporadic as he came deep inside of you, your walls drinking up every ounce of his cum. 

He fell on his back as you wrapped your arms around him, his cock softening inside of you. 

He looked at you, brushing the hair off your face. 

“I should get going” you whispered to no one but yourself. Before you could even get up, he stopped you. “Don’t please” he whined, his hand wrapped around your wrists. 

“Please baby, I want to spend every Valentine’s Day with you. I want to take you on dates, I want to make you breakfast in bed. I want to do every sappy thing we said we hated about couples with you. Please, let me do this for you, with you” he pleaded, kissing your cheeks and then your lips.

He pulled away, waiting for your response, his eyes pleading for you to say yes. 

“As long as you don’t poison me with your terrible cooking, I would love to go out with you” you giggled, kissing his lips.

“This isn’t a dream is it?” he whispered out loud, thinking to himself. 

“It isn’t” you giggled, cuddling him closer to your body, your head laying against his chest. Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t as bad as you thought. 

[a-new-romantic]

lucky charm ♡ (hogwarts!au azriel x reader)

a/n: this is entirely inspired by those "xxx quidditch entrance song" tiktoks. i have no other excuse, but i hope you like it! (and if you hate it, don't read it!)

summary: ravenclaw!azriel plays against the slytherin quidditch team. you're his good luck charm.

"please", Rhysand, muttered as he caught up to you and Feyre going to breakfast. "Ravenclaw is NOT going to win," he said - pointedly staring at your blue and bronze robes.

"Yeah," Feyre agreed, her green tie seeming brighter than ever. "We're going to win, cause our team has us on it." she said, grinning slyly at you all entered the great hall.

"We'll see..." you sung to your friends, rolling your eyes as you got up from the table, heading over to the Ravenclaw table.

"Hey Luc!" you say, spotting your friend eating in what looked like a fit of nerves. "Ready for the game, keeper?" you asked, patting him on the back as you took a seat next to him - your favorite food appearing in front of you.

"Honestly? No," he said, "Rhysand is a damn good chaser and Feyre is the best seeker we've seen in a while," he said.

"And you're the best keeper we've had in centuries! Don't even worry Lucien, you're going to do great. I have full faith that Ravenclaw will win." you said, despite not being 100% certain yourself. He was right, Feyre and Rhysand (and the rest of Slytherin) were damn good.

"Sure, sure. You only say that cause Azriel is on Ravenclaw too." he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you with a teasing tone. It seemed the whole school knew of your budding relationship with your teams star beater.

"Whatever, don't you have to practice or something?" you said around a bite of waffles. His eye widened as he glanced up at the clock before shoveling the rest of his eggs into his mouth. He gave you a quick wave goodbye before grabbing his broom and running out of the hall.

You grinned and finished up your breakfast, heading back to your dorm to get ready for the big game.

----- ♡

The crowd roared around you as you climbed up to the highest seat you could get at the game. The wing whipped your hair around, as the blue and bronze scarf around your neck kept you warm.

"Nice makeup (Y/n)!" someone yelled out at you, as you gave them a grateful smile. You worked hard on it, blue and bronze surrounding your eyes, with Azriel's jersey number on your cheek as a last minute show of support.

Before you knew it, the opposing crowd started roaring, the Slytherin entrance song starting to play.

"everybody wants to rule the world.."

The song echoed throughout the stadium, green and sliver smoke filling the field. Silhouettes of the players started appearing to the left of the field, Rhys and Feyre's outlines clear as they appeared out of the smoke.

The beat dropped and the entire Slytherin team got on their brooms, flying to the middle of the field. Rhysand pumped his fist into the air, triggering a cascade of screams down the Slytherin side of the field. As the beat built up, the players got higher and higher. Suddenly, the music stopped and they all dropped down to eye level - getting into position for the game.

"Honestly? A 10/10 entrance." your friend piped up next to you. You couldn't help but agree.

The crowd started to die down from that amazing entrance: people talking to their friends and chit chatting, the Slytherin team talking strategy.

Suddenly, you hear faint whistles and clacks echoing through the stadium. The crowd went silent in anticipation of the incoming entrance by the Ravenclaw.

Then, the drums started resounding throughout the stadium - going directly through everyone and vibrating through their cores. You grinned, knowing that Az had taken your song suggestion for their entrance tonight. The drums ended with a flourish, blue and bronze confetti erupting throughout the stadium.

"all the birds of a feather.."

The Ravenclaw players entered through the confetti, flying in circles around the stadium - looking like blurs of blue just zooming past everyone. The beat ended and the players exited the circle one by one, flipping in the air before landing in place.

Azriel, unlike Rhysand didn't hype up the crowd at all. He didn't need to. At the sight of him, the entire crowd erupted.

He didn't care, he was looking directly at you. You flushed under his gaze, giving him a quick thumbs up as a show of support. He smiled gratefully before turning to roll his eyes at his brother on the opposing side.

Once the players were in position, the game began.

----- ♡

The game was neck and neck for the most part, with Azriel or Lucien blocking most of Rhysand's advances. Nevertheless, Slytherin was in the lead.

Your focus stayed on Azriel for the most part, tracking him as he shot across the field. He was completely in his element, and you were in nothing short of awe.

He could feel your stare as he played the game, loving you and loving the attention. Forgive him if he flexed a little harder, and showed off a little more during the game. He had a pretty person to impress after all.

Despite your attention attuned on Azriel, your gaze flickered away as you watched the Ravenclaw seeker and Feyre suddenly dive to the ground, spotting the snitch. If the seeker caught the snitch, Ravenclaw could overcome the lead Slytherin had on them and win the game.

The whole stadium went quiet as everyone watched the two seekers twist around one another, up and down through the field as they chased after the snitch.

Suddenly, Feyre swerved out of the way as a bludger appeared in her line of flight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you glanced up at Azriel, who smirked - knowing his plan worked. He shot a bludger in Feyre's direction (not intending to hurt her) to throw her off her path.

He was successful! The Ravenclaw seeker sped up and caught the snitch, flying up and thrusting her hand up in the air in victory. The half of the field you were on erupted in cheer as bronze and blue confetti erupted once again.

You cheered alongside everyone, joy overtaking everyone's face. You took the time to study Azriel's face, as he high fived and celebrated with his teammates. Then, he turned to face you - flying towards you.

"All because of my lucky charm, huh?" he said, as he leaned forward on his broom so his lips could meet you own. You smiled into the kiss, shaking your head while laughing.

He didn't need a lucky charm, but you were glad to be his lucky charm any day.

[smoky-mountain-ghost]

Grizz. Babygirl. WHERE ARE MY LITTLE PIRATES.

We’re going CRAZY.

Chip Bastard. Jay Ferin. Gillion Tidestrider Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep Pigeon Lord, The One, Warrior of Rock and Roll, Singer/Songwriter of Gillion and the Tidestriders' hit single "The Hole in Your Heart", Moisture Master, Horse Tamer, Defenestrator of the Adulterous, Friend of Dugon, Dugon's Best Friend, Dugon's Pal, Walking Fish, Fish, Dirt Eater, Chum of Chibo and Chums, Co-Captain Gill of the Riptide Pirates, Co-captain of the Albatross, Companion of Pretzel, Paramount Champion, Knighter of Julian That One Time, Pretzel Carrier, Leviathan Tamer, Serpent Rider, Brother of Dugon, Healer of the Sick, Friend of Duke D Dukem Duke of Dooke, Eater of Grass, Beater of Ass, Grandma's Good Boy, Dismantler of Evil, Eater of Shit, Capitalism Hater, Royalty Assassinator, Sufferer of the Spice, Weed Eater, Slayer of Evil, Loffinlot Liberator, Fruitninja, Eater of Sand, Juice Enjoyer, Rescuer of John, Fishy, Bitcoin Miner, NFT Purchaser, Driplord, Grandmillion, The One Who Will Change The World, Roller of Tens, Grimm Slayer, In Need of a Dad, Goblin Gobbler, Lime Lord, Tuber, Chip's Nightmare Fuel, Monsoon And Moon Son, Eater of Ass, Pretzel Seeker, Vibe Master, Pussy Slayer, Murderer of Vice Admiral Kuba Kenta, Gillion Mother-fucking Titty-sucking Tidestrider, Egg Hater, Bong Obliterator, Baby signer, Babygirl, The Red One, Skillion Liedsneaker, Fishy Boy, Tidestrizzer, Rizz Reverent, Jort Storm, Hero of the Hour, Popper of Sacks, Tree Hugger, Summoner Rider, Brother of Lucy and Gilly.

[valeovalairs]

Guys look it’s Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Undersea-

-Hero of the Deep, Pigeon Lord, The One, Warrior of Rock and Roll, Singer/Songwriter of Gillion and the Tidestriders' hit single "The Hole in Your Heart", Moisture Master, Horse Tamer, Defenestrator of the Adulterous, Friend of Dugon, Dugon's Best Friend, Dugon's Pal, Walking Fish, Fish, Dirt Eater, Chum of Chibo and Chums, Co-Captain Gill of the Riptide Pirates, Co-captain of the Albatross, Companion of Pretzel, Paramount Champion, Knighter of Julian That One Time, Pretzel Carrier, Leviathan Tamer, Serpent Rider, Brother of Dugon, Healer of the Sick, Friend of Duke D Dukem Duke of Dooke, Eater of Grass, Beater of Ass, Grandma's Good Boy, Dismantler of Evil, Eater of Shit, Capitalism Hater, Royalty Assassinator, Sufferer of the Spice, Weed Eater, Slayer of Evil, Loffinlot Liberator, Fruitninja, Eater of Sand, Juice Enjoyer, Rescuer of John, Fishy. Bitcoin Miner, NFT Purchaser, Driplord, Grandmillion, The One Who Will Change The World, Roller of Tens, Grimm Slayer. In Need of a Dad, Goblin Gobbler, Lime Lord, Tuber, Chip's Nightmare Fuel, Monsoon And Moon Son, Eater of Ass, Pretzel Seeker, Vibe Master, Pussy Slayer, Murderer of Vice Admiral Kuba Kenta, Gillion Motherfucking Titty-sucking Tidestrider, Egg Hater, Bong Obliterator, Baby signer, Babygirl, The Red One, Skillion Liedsneaker, Fishy Boy, Tidestrizzer, Rizz Reverent, Jorts Storm, Hero of the Hour, Popper of Sacks, Tree Hugger, Summoner Rider, Brother of Lucy and Gilly-

one without the background effects

[joonie-beanie]

Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.

Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???

Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.

You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends. 

You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.

Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals. 

At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.

Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around. 

Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).

So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.

“Jesus Christ, Peter.”

You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.

With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.

Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.

Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.

“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.

“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants. 

“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”

You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.

“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”

Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.

“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to. 

“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”

“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”

You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a smile.

The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.

You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.

“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.

“Listen, this is way better than beer.”

Honestly, you can’t disagree.

“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”

It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.

“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”

Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.

Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.

“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.

“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”

“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”

“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”

Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.

After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like. 

At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.

“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.

“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”

Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.

You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”

“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”

Peter places a hand on his stomach.

“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.

“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.

Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—

His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off. 

“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.

“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”

He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh. 

Same ‘ol Peter.

Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons. 

No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.

And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now

Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.

…but like, what kind of side-gig?

Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go. 

You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is! 

And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??

“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.

Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.

Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.

And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.

But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode. 

So…he goes snooping. 

It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).

He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.

Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.

He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.

Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)

The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.

Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—

—and immediately slams it back down.

…veiny, pink, silicon—

Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.

All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)

Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.

A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.

Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.

…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.

“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything. 

He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.

In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”. 

Hi there! 

I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.

Thanks!

Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.

He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling. 

How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.

And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.

Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.

…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.

The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.

As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.

While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.

Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door. 

Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—

Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights. 

You stare at him in shock.

“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”

“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.

“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway. 

“I thought I told you to just trust me?”

You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word. 

“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?

“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet. 

He’s half hard. Fuck.

If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.

Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”

“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.

He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction. 

Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?

(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)

“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water. 

Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?

At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—

…wait.

Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.

Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.

“Did you read it…?”

Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.

Busted…

You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.

HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!

“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion. 

Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.

“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But��it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”

If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.

“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”

His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.

“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”

The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.

“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”

“Really?”

There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.

“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”

Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”

You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—

“Yeah? Show me then.”

You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move. 

Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.

You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.

Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—

Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.

“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you. 

You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.

You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back. 

You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.

It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.

Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.

“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.

“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.

“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”

(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.

“Think Spiderman whimpers?”

You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.

“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”

Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.

He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.  

“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.

He needs your tits in his mouth.

“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed. 

The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting. 

And, that’s exactly what he does.

He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.

You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.

You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—

“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving. 

Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants. 

“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.

You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.

Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—

“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”

“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.

“Maybe.”

Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.

Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.

Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.

He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.

Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.

His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.

“Shit.”

His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—

He presses a finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves. 

You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.

Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.

The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.

“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.

“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers. 

Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.

After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.

You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…

You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.

“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.

“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.

You sigh, scooting backwards.

“Fine.”

You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen. 

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.

You can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.

“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.

“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.

“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.

By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.

“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.

“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll help.”

With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him. 

And god, you feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.

The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.

“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”

His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face. 

His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.

With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.

He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.

An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.

“Peter,” you sob into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”

As if you could stop.

Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.

The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you. 

You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.

“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”

Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.

“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”

You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.

He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.

“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him. 

“Mmmm, no?”

He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.

“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.

“Very. I…really missed that.”

“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.

“Same? You haven’t—?”

“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.

“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”

Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him. 

You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.

“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”

“Hey now—!” 

Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.

“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”

You sigh, wriggling around to face him.

“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”

“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom. 

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”

Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.

30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.

You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?

Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.

“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.

You bend over to pick it up.

Hey!

Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!

Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p

-PB

PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?

You can’t help but laugh.

What an idiot. 

But…you like him.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

A Bump In The Night: Part 4

Find part 3 here

Summary: You’ve fallen ill and Lizzie decides to pay you a visit whilst Tommy is away. Meanwhile a certain Shelby goes missing and Tommy may or may not have something to do with it.

Warnings: Incest

taglist: @calmingmelody96@sunflower-tia

Weeks had passed since the family meeting, an agreement finally being made of what was to happen. This relationship and the rumors running around town could ruin business, especially with Tommy’s run for office.

The plan was to divert the public eye from making any speculations that you and Tommy were anything but a sibling relationship. 

The idea upset you immensely when Tommy agreed that he would no longer be picking you up from school, that you could no longer come visit him at work or be holding hands in public. No more lap sitting, or surprises, you needed to be distanced in public. It upset Tommy as much as you but he always had a better way at hiding his emotions then yourself.

Dwindling around, the house was quiet, no one home  but yourself on this cold winter today and you planned to make the best of it.

Stepping around in Tommy’s room, your hands skimmed through the fabric of his wardrobe wanting to find something comfortable to wear that smelt of him while he was away for the day.

You ended up pulling his wife beater off the dirty pile of laundry, slipping the thin fabric over your skin, feeling peace and coziness at last.

Knocking the pillow of the bed in the process of leaving, your heart warmed when the shirt you wore the first night your brother took your virginity was tucked beneath it.

The sound of your stomach rumbling moved you forward from the treasured moment.

Heading to the kitchen and searching the cupboards and the refrigerator, you pulled some eggs and bacon out, slapping the food onto the pan, you turned on your favorite radio station, cracking the window open to let the smoke out.

Everything was going smoothly until you sat down to eat the scrumptious breakfast.

Your stomach churned, the smell of the smoke descending from your plate making you nauseous, head swirling in discomfort.

There was a knock at the door at that moment but the bile rising into your throat was far more important than whoever was outside waiting.

Rushing to the closest thing you could find, you depleted the contents of dinner from last night into the porcelain sink, retching and hacking while trying to find a moment to breath.

The knocking continued obnoxiously, the loud sound not at all helping the building headache that was slowly turning into a migraine.

“Give me a moment!” Wiping at your chin, you turned the faucet on to flush the vile contents down the drain.

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door without a hint of a kindness on your face, to your surprise it was Lizzie standing there with her arms folded, matching your facial expression.

“Well you look like shit.” She pushed past you, not waiting for an invite and noting whose shirt you were wearing.

“Where’s Tommy? That shirt doesn’t quite fit you does it?” Closing the door you groaned, not having the mental capacity or patience to deal with her at this very moment, much like many other times.

Can the woman not take a hint that her and Polly’s plan was going nowhere.

“He’s at work. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She raised an annoyed brow at you, but you weren’t phased by her poor portrayal of dominance.

“I suppose he doesn’t know yet then but we moved the wedding forward to next week.” What in the hell was she talking about? Confusion and anxiety settled in, worsening the pain in your head which seemed to bring Lizzie a tremendous amount of joy as she noticed your discomfort. The truth of the fact was that she wanted Tommy all for herself, she has for a long time but she was never going to have him the way you did, never again.

“He’ll never let James marry me especially against my will. Were you not present for the conversation yesterday? Or were you too busy lusting over someone who could care less about you.” Her jaw clenched at your snarky response, muttering something under her breath before leaving out the door in a fierce fury.

Smirking to yourself, you went upstairs drawing a hot bath with bubbles, attempting to ease your aching body and settle your stomach. When that didn’t seem to work you resorted into snooping through Tommy’s desk drawers in search of a pain reliever or something but there was nothing. He always did have good hiding spot for his stashes. Going into Ada’s room you found a bottle of motrin, surely she’d understand being a woman herself.

Wandering back into Tommy’s room, you rested your head on the pillow, curling up into a small ball in hopes of going to sleep.

It wasn’t long until the medicine kicked in and you drifted off into sleep.

A few hours later Tommy pulled into the driveway, retrieving his suitcase from the passenger seat eager to see his little princess. Having to distance himself was extremely difficult, he found himself constantly worrying about if you were alright or not. Ascending the stairs, Tommy opened his door excitedly onto to find you laying in bed with a bucket on the floor beside you. Your face was sweaty, a bit warm when his palm lay delicately on your temple. Concern immediately consumed him. 

“Have you fallen ill my love? What’s going on?” Still in his suit he crawled in the bed beside you, arms cradling your feeble body protectively.

“I don’t feel well. I’ve been throwing up all morning and just having constant tummy aches.” Tommy gave you a look of pity and concern. It wasn’t often you had gotten sick, it was quite rare and when you were it was bad. 

Turning around, you nuzzled your temple into the crook of his neck, hands grasping at the fabric of his jacket in desperate search of comfort-ability.

“Missed you…Lizzie came today. She said the wedding is next week.” You felt Tommy tense around you. What did he have to do to make her and James understand that his word was law? 

Surely Pol was in on it, she seemed to always step her foot in a place it didn’t belong. 

“I can assure you, no one will be marrying my princess and if they want to test to see if I’m bluffing, the outcome will be tumultuously heinous. Now don’t worry that little head. I’m home now love, let’s rest.”

As days passed Tommy noticed you were still throwing up, still needing to be in darkness as the sunlight pained your aching head. He was worried more when you mentioned how going to the bathroom seemed to he an issue now, specifically number two. You were embarrassed to tell him but didn’t trust anyone else in the house to say.

Tommy knew the signs, he wasn’t an idiot. Currently he was pacing in the hallway outside the bedroom trying to figure out a way to tell you. He himself was overjoyed but he can just imagine how frightened you’d be. 

“Thomas!” Poll screamed after him from downstairs. Rolling his eyes he descended down the dwindling steps, frustration vibrant in his voice.

“Will you keep your voice down. She’s sleeping, that’s the best thing for her right now.” She scoffed in response, demanding that they go to his office then to which he begrudgingly obliged.

Tommy closed the door quietly while Pol lot a cigarette, helping herself to the table of liquor in the corner of the room.

“What did you do with him!”

Tommy simply smirked, taking a seat behind his desk and settling his feet on the wooden surface non-chalantly before lighting his own cigarette.

“And who might that be Pol?” Her hands swiped away the belongings on the desk, papers and pens scattering onto the hardwood floor, yet he remained unphased by her angered outburst.

“You know damn well who!” Raising his eyebrows in frustration, he stood up from his seat, pointing directly in your aunt’s face.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like the consequences if you went to war with me. When will you learn that Y/N is better off without him. Michael will remain safe where he is as long as you keep your meddling nose out of our relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship Thomas she is your fucking sister! We had an agreement I-“ Tommy raised his finger, cutter her off abruptly.

“No. No. Our agreement didn’t include this joke of an arranged marriage. Tell me, when are you going to start caring about what she wants? Don’t think about me, think about your niece for once eh? She has feelings to consider too y’know. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go tend to my ill girl.” Pol stepped in front of him in an effort to block him from moving, causing him to merely laugh menacingly.

“You don’t want to do that. Maybe you should think about that bastard of child of yours as well. Who knows if you’ll ever see him again.” He shoved past her as she stood there in disbelief. How was she the bad guy for wanting to put a stop to this? For wanting to do the right thing? She screamed out in aggravation.

“If you harm a fucking hair on his head I will take your fucking heart out myself, you hear me?!” He ignored her, walking back toward your room more concerned about you, stressing over what he believed to be true.

When he walked in you were already sat up, hugging your pillow tightly, unliking the conflict of the situation. Tommy pursed his lip, apologetic for the yelling waking you up from your need slumber.

Taking a seat beside you, he leaned in toward your touch. His thumbs moving in a circular motion. He only did that when he was in deep thought?

“Is everything okay Tommy?” He looked down at your bucket, noticing the layer of new contents and how your eyes still appeared tired though you’ve been resting all day.

Placing an endearing kiss to your temple, he settled you in his lap, wiping a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes searched for a hint that maybe you had come to the conclusion, yet you appeared just worried and confused.

Adding up how long it has been in his head, the math seemed definitive.

“My love, you might very well be pregnant.”

[thekitchnpro]

Top 5 Egg Beater that You Will Love Most

New Post has been published on https://thekitchnpro.com/top-5-egg-beater-that-you-will-love-most/

Top 5 Egg Beater that You Will Love Most

The egg beater has been in existence since at least the 18th century, and they come in an array of different shapes and sizes. Whether you need an egg beater to whip egg whites into a meringue or you want to blend small amounts of liquid, the variety will let you choose the perfect one for your needs. In order to help you decide which one is best, we’ve put together this list of our top five egg beaters for your kitchen.

Cuisinart

Buy Now! The Cuisinart egg beater is easy to use and mixes well, but it doesn’t have a whisk attachment. If you’re looking for an egg beater with a whisk attachment, you might want to look at another brand of the mixer. The mixing process can become messy if your eggs are too frothy, as is sometimes common with a blender-style mixer. If you need your eggs beaten quickly and consistently without any hassle, the Cuisinart egg beater is an excellent option that won’t let you down! If all you need from your egg beater is a whisk, then one other option that should probably get your attention is KitchenAid.

This company offers a wide variety of attachments including whisks and other beating tools that help make kitchen tasks more convenient. It’s really up to what type of experience you’re looking for in terms of convenience whether it be from saving time or money or both—as well as performance in areas like how consistently your eggs get mixed together. That said, there aren’t any bad options here so take some time to decide which way works best for you! Remember: all three picks listed above deliver high-quality results even though they vary in design and function just slightly.

 OXO Good Grips

Buy Now! The OXO Good Grips Egg Beater’s soft, non-slip handle makes it comfortable to hold, even when whisking several eggs at once. It can also blend a variety of other foods, from cream and mayonnaise to cake batter and pie filling. The Egg Beater is part of a line of quality kitchen tools manufactured by OXO International. The company is well known for its Good Grips line of products that feature a unique ergonomic design intended to reduce strain on users’ hands and wrists.

While many home cooks find standard whisks difficult to grip comfortably, OXO’s innovative design is refreshingly straightforward. To use an OXO Good Grips whisk, all you have to do is grab it by its soft handles and go. The uniquely shaped body does all of the work for you! If you or someone in your household has difficulty grasping or holding onto regular whisks, then an OXO might be just what you need. Even if there are no mobility issues involved, some cooks say they prefer using an egg beater instead of regular whisks because they are gentler on delicate foods like eggs and sauces without compromising performance.

Dash Rapid Egg Beater

Buy Now! The Dash Rapid Egg Beater is easy to use, durable and affordable. It comes in three different sizes of beaters. The beaters are made of stainless steel, which means they’re resistant to rusting or corrosion. They’re constructed with an ergonomic handle, which makes them easy to control when you’re beating your eggs. The egg beater also has a rubberized suction base that keeps it firmly in place while you use it. The beater works really well for beating both soft and hard-boiled eggs; however, if you like making scrambled eggs for omelets, you might want to get another device because there are better products on the market for those tasks. Even so, what you can do with these beaters is impressive.

The dash rapid egg beater delivers more than 12,000 rotations per minute so it’s powerful enough to thoroughly mix ingredients within seconds. This helps ensure your food will taste consistent every time without having large chunks or pieces of any ingredient. I was able to prepare perfect cupcakes after just mixing one thing at a time into my batter while using these beaters by hand.

KitchenAid

Buy Now! The KitchenAid electric mixer is a kitchen workhorse and it can do an awesome job whipping up eggs, too. With speeds up to 1725 rpm and a glass bowl that locks into place, there’s no need to worry about slip-ups or spills when mixing your batter. It’s also got all of the standard attachments you’d expect from a home mixer: wire whip, flat beater, dough hook, pouring shield, and food grinder with five grinding plates. In addition to all of those attachments, it has a turbo beater attachment for extra thick batters. A little more expensive than most other mixers on our list but well worth it if you plan on using your machine frequently in your kitchen. Also comes in fun colors! Cheers to orange power tools.

 Immersion Blender

Buy Now! Immersion blenders can be used to blend up your favorite soup, chop vegetables and even whip up a quick cake batter. The best thing about immersion blenders is that they are easy to use and take up minimal space in your kitchen. However, as a downside, it can be difficult to evenly mix ingredients. Make sure you choose an immersion blender with plenty of power as those with weak motors will struggle at heavy tasks such as mixing cake batter or blending ice. Immersion blenders generally do not have other attachments for kitchen uses such as food processors or whisks but can still perform other kitchen duties adequately.

If you find yourself wanting more functions from your appliance, consider getting a stand mixer as well as many include whisking and kneading attachments; we rated three blenders using stand mixers that performed admirably. Our top pick is Breville BSB510XL Control Grip 3-Speed 200-watt Immersion Hand Blender ($99) because of its superior design and powerful motor (2+ HP). When choosing an immersion blender make sure to read our guide on how to choose what type of egg beater fits best for your kitchen.

Would like to purchase a egg beater? We have reasonable and affordable egg beater. Do check it out from here:

[mothdruid]

Happy birthday!! Can I please get "you’re freezing, come here.” With Hangman?

Fast like Rain

pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x gn!reader

word count: 1k

summary: Your childhood best friend, Jake, is home from deployment. The two of you spend the day together and it ends with a cold but sweet treat.

a/n: sorry this took so long to write! my blurbs keep end up being longer than just blurbs lmao. i hope you enjoy!!

The day had started out great. Jake was home on leave for a little bit, meaning that you finally got to see your best friend after months of his deployment. He had promised you one full day of hanging out when he had left. So, it was time for him to honor that promise.

The day had started with brunch from his favorite local diner, to which he ordered his classic sunny side up eggs with crispy bacon and toast. You ordered your own favorite meal, earning teasing when you ordered your classic cup of orange juice. Jake never let you live that down, always joking that you were never going to fully grow up.

The two of you spent the next few hours doing whatever. It was so refreshing to finally have Jake home. He was your best friend no matter what, even if you happened to have a little bit more than just platonic feelings for him. It was hard not to like him. He had that Texan charm you had grown up dreaming about.

Charm with a bit of asshole to him, and it honestly made your heart sing. Maybe that's because he didn't intimidated you, instead it pushed you to be an asshole right back at him. Which Jake himself loved about you. Every time you ever swore at him and yelled at him, he would later that night think about it in bed, wondering if you would speak that way if you were underneath him.

The two of you were currently in some random field outside of town. Jake had decided to drive the old beater truck he had during high school while he was in town. So the tailgate was currently down, the both of you sitting on it with your legs dangling. The soft yet dry tall grass was brushing against your ankles.

"Are you serious?" You laughed after asking.

"Come on, of course, how could you not believe me?" Jake retorted.

"You weren't a track star in school, that's why!"

"I played football," Jake reminded you.

"As a QB, not a running back!" You could help the laughter that came from you.

"Fine," Jake hoped off the tailgate, "let's race."

The laughter immediately stopped when you heard him. You both had been too caught up in each other to have noticed the darker clouds starting to consume the sky. You gave Jake a serious look, tiling your head as if to question his seriousness.

"Hey, I'm being serious here," Jake threw his hands up in defense.

"One hundred percent?" You questioned.

He took his right index finger and drew a cross over his heart. You hoped down off the tailgate and stood face to face with him. You crossed your arms, signaling that you meant business.

"What's in it for me?"

"I'll buy you ice cream," Jake said.

"Fence line?"

Jake shook his head yes, that stupid smirk on his face. Without a second thought you took off running. You heard Jake yell from behind you about how he never said start. All you did was throw a middle finger back at him. Jake chased you all the way to the fence line, huffing once he finally caught up to you. You had been waiting for only a few seconds since reaching it. Your own breath was heavy, lungs struggling to keep up.

"Guess you aren't that fast," you chuckled while trying to steady your breathing. You looked over at Jake and then leaned again the fence post next to you.

"I don't know if that counts," Jake joked. He moved near you, putting a hands on the same post you were leaning on.

The two of you were close, only a few inches separating your bodies. Smiles adorned both of your faces while you stared at each other. You could never get tried of staring at him. Yeah, he looked like a generic jock, but he was your generic jock. Those green eyes never left yours, and a part of was starting to wonder if the two of you were moving closer towards one another.

Suddenly there was a loud rumble through the sky. It was only then that both of you noticed the dark sky. You examined the sky, a small drop of water hit your skin. Jake felt one too, looking at you quickly. It was seconds before a complete down pour started. You howled in laughter and shock as Jake just started laughing. After a few more seconds of taking the rain in, you ran back towards the truck. Jake was right behind you, stopping to lift the tailgate back up while you climbed into the cab.

"Holy shit," the words were breathy from your laughter.

"That was a surprise," Jake said.

The both of you were practically soaked. His t-shirt was practically a different color now. Yours was about the same though. Little goosebumps were starting to prick up along your skin. Jake noticed this when you wrapped your arms around yourself. He reached out hesitantly, brushing his knuckles against your skin.

"You're freezing," he whispered, "come here."

Jake opened his arms and gestured for you to move closer to him. You hesitated for a minute, eventually moving into his arms. Jake's arm were so warm, they were like one of his old sweatshirts that you had stolen forever ago. The sound of rain filled the silence between the two of you.

"I missed you."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. You sat up a little and looked at Jake. There was worry weaved through your expression as if you had done something wrong. Jake moved a hand to your jaw, cupping it then leaning in.

Neither of you fought it, leaning into the kiss and your emotions. For so long the both of you had fought them, telling yourselves that this couldn't be real. But it was.

Jake pulled back and just stared at you, a small smile on his lips. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, marveling internally at how soft your skin was.

"I missed you too."

[fineartphotographysandiego]

Best Vintage Egg Beater: Timeless Style and Reliable Mixing

Discover the best vintage egg beater for your kitchen, blending classic design with dependable performance. Ideal for collectors and home chefs, it’s a must-have tool with a touch of nostalgia.

[autocorrection]

Sir Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep, Pigeon Lord, The One, Warrior of Rock and Roll, Singer/Songwriter of Gillion and the Tidestriders' hit single "The Hole in Your Heart", Moisture Master, Horse Tamer, Defenestrator of the Adulterous, Friend of Dugon, Dugon's Best Friend, Dugon's Pal, Walking Fish, Fish, Dirt Eater, Chum of Chibo and Chums, Co-Captain Gill of the Riptide Pirates, Co-captain of the Albatross, Companion of Pretzel, Paramount Champion, Knighter of Julian That One Time, Pretzel Carrier, Leviathan Tamer, Serpent Rider, Brother of Dugon, Healer of the Sick, Friend of Duke D Dukem Duke of Dooke, Eater of Grass, Beater of Ass, Grandma's Good Boy, Dismantler of Evil, Eater of Shit, Capitalism Hater, Royalty Assassinator, Sufferer of the Spice, Weed Eater, Slayer of Evil, Loffinlot Liberator, Fruitninja, Eater of Sand, Juice Enjoyer, Rescuer of John, Fishy, Bitcoin Miner, NFT Purchaser, Driplord, Grandmillion, The One Who Will Change The World, Roller of Tens, Grimm Slayer, In Need of a Dad, Goblin Gobbler, Lime Lord, Tuber, Chip's Nightmare Fuel, Monsoon And Moon Son, Eater of Ass, Pretzel Seeker, Vibe Master, Pussy Slayer, Murderer of Vice Admiral Kuba Kenta, Gillion Mother-fucking Titty-sucking Tidestrider, Egg Hater, Bong Obliterator, Baby signer, Babygirl, The Red One, Skillion Liedsneaker, Fishy Boy, Tidestrizzer, Rizz Reverent, Jort Storm, Hero of the Hour, Popper of Sacks, Tree Hugger, Summoner Rider, Brother of Lucy and Gilly.

[shuahaes]

baking w/ the hip-hop unit!

svt hhu x reader; established relationship; all fluff, sfw

HHU | VCU | PFU

warning: only food mentions, otherwise its all just fluff + unhinged wonwoo in his part !! not proofread btw !!

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL (S.COUPS)

hes so excited to bake a cake w his baby 🥺

but this man gets so pouty so easily

he'd prob drop an egg and get pouty or accidentally spill flour on the counter

but he'd try his best to be helpful yk

trying to follow the recipe as best he can

and if u even SIGH out of slight annoyance while trying to mix the batter

he WILL be taking the beater from u and doing it for u

would also do his best to give u a massage afterwards

he says he'll take them out of the oven for u bc he doesnt want u to feel the heat from it so he does it (while wearing mitts ofc)

and then he gets pouty bc its too hot

even tho he wanted to do it 💀

definitely pouty if the cake was deformed

would def help u clean up the mess

CUDDLES AFTER 🥺

JEON WONWOO

i am a firm believer of unhinged wonwoo with his s/o

like yes he'd follow the recipe

but what if he's in a silly goofy mood

would probably say he's an expert baker because he played cooking mama every day for two weeks 💀

prob says "f**k the recipe, i'll bake like cooking mama"

but still follows the recipe bc of you

maybe heart shaped cookies (like that one picture)*

gives u a kiss after bc the cookies were so good

KIM MINGYU

this man is a klutz but also an amazing chef??

most definitely the best baker in hhu

but not without almost breaking your stand mixer

or getting batter all over the counter and some splattering on the walls 😔

cracked an egg but when he went to put the yolk in another bowl for the recipe, it exploded

dw though, your desserts turned out fine

he was pouty abt the stand mixer almost breaking (BUT ITS FINE)

but thats nothing cuddles cant solve, isn't it?

CHWE HANSOL (VERNON)

its vernon.

there is a very low chance that the dessert will end up edible

why?

because he will most definitely forget to read the recipe measurements and it might end up so sweet that it'll give you a cavity within the first bite

or it could end up as him putting too much salt instead of sugar

reason being, the poor boy couldnt tell the difference bc he missed the jars labels 😭

it may not end up edible

but its the thought that counts, right?

at least he helped his beautiful s/o 🤩

A/N - FINALY DID THE HHU VER!! omg posting this in the daytime instead of the dead of night? im so proud of myself 🤭 a huge thank u to @kwantaro mahi <3 for helping me come with a few of the hcs, so ty mahi !!

*this photo of wonwoo that i was talking about