#maybe spoon making tools

[milkweedman]

I didnt really think my thing this year would be getting really into making supported spindles, but i am enjoying it so much. Making them is really fun and spinning on a spindle that was part of a branch i found on the ground is extremely satisfying :D and think now that im on spindle number... 5 ? Im starting to really get the hang of them.

The only thing is, i keep accidentally sawing through the knees of my jeans, which is not ideal.

[hoshigray]

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

“Show, Don’t Tell”…But This Time Someone Explains It

If you’ve ever been on the hunt for writing advice, you've definitely seen the phrase “Show, Don’t Tell.”

Writeblr coughs up these three words on the daily; it’s often considered the “Golden Rule” of writing. However, many posts don't provide an in-depth explanation about what this "Golden Rule" means (This is most likely to save time, and under the assumption that viewers are already informed).

More dangerously, some posts fail to explain that “Show, Don’t Tell” occasionally doesn’t apply in certain contexts, toeing a dangerous line by issuing a blanket statement to every writing situation. 

The thing to take away from this is: “Show, Don’t Tell” is an essential tool for more immersive writing, but don't feel like a bad writer if you can’t make it work in every scenario (or if you can’t get the hang of it!)

1. What Does "Show, Don't Tell" Even Mean?

“Show, Don’t Tell” is a writing technique in which the narrative or a character’s feelings are related through sensory details rather than exposition. Instead of telling the reader what is happening, the reader infers what is happening due to the clues they’ve been shown.

EXAMPLE 1:

Telling: The room was very cold. Showing: She shivered as she stepped into the room, her breath steaming in the air.

EXAMPLE 2:

Telling: He was furious. Showing: He grabbed the nearest book and hurled it against the wall, his teeth bared and his eyes blazing.

EXAMPLE 3 ("SHOW, DON'T TELL" DOESN'T HAVE TO MEAN "WRITE A LOT MORE")

Telling: The room hadn't been lived in for a very long time. Showing: She shoved the door open with a spray of dust.

Although the “showing” sentences don’t explicitly state how the characters felt, you as the reader use context clues to form an interpretation; it provides information in an indirect way, rather than a direct one.

Because of this, “Show, Don’t Tell” is an incredibly immersive way to write; readers formulate conclusions alongside the characters, as if they were experiencing the story for themselves instead of spectating. 

As you have probably guessed, “showing” can require a lot more words (as well as patience and effort). It’s a skill that has to be practiced and improved, so don’t feel discouraged if you have trouble getting it on the first try!

2. How Do I Use “Show, Don’t Tell” ?

There are no foolproof parameters about where you “show” and not “tell" or vice versa; it’s more of a writing habit that you develop rather than something that you selectively decide to employ.

In actuality, most stories are a blend of both showing and telling, and more experienced writers instinctively switch between one and another to cater to their narrative needs. You need to find a good balance of both in order to create a narrative that is both immersive and engaging.

i. Help When Your Writing Feels Bare-Bones/Soulless/Boring

Your writing is just not what you’ve pictured in your head, no matter how much you do it over. Conversations are stilted. The characters are flat. The sentences don’t flow as well as they do in the books you've read. What’s missing?

It’s possibly because you’ve been “telling” your audience everything and not “showing”! If a reader's mind is not exercised (i.e. they're being "spoon-fed" all of the details), your writing may feel boring or uninspired!

Instead of saying that a room was old and dingy, maybe describe the peeling wallpaper. The cobwebs in the corners. The smell of dust and old mothballs. Write down what you see in your mind's eye, and allow your audience to formulate their own interpretations from that. (Scroll for a more in-depth explanation on HOW to develop this skill!)

ii. Add More Depth and Emotion to Your Scenes

Because "Show, Don't Tell" is a more immersive way of writing, a reader is going to feel the narrative beats of your story a lot more deeply when this rule is utilized.

Describing how a character has fallen to their knees sobbing and tearing our their hair is going to strike a reader's heart more than saying: "They were devastated."

Describing blood trickling through a character's fingers and staining their clothes will seem more dire than saying: "They were gravely wounded."

iii. Understand that Sometimes Telling Can Fit Your Story Better

Telling can be a great way to show your characters' personalities, especially when it comes to first-person or narrator-driven stories. Below, I've listed a few examples; however, this list isn't exclusive or comprehensive!

Initial Impressions and Character Opinions

If a character describes someone's outfit as "gaudy" or a room as "absolutely disgusting," it can pack more of a punch about their initial impression, rather than describing the way that they react (and can save you some words!). In addition, it can provide some interesting juxtaposition (i.e. when a character describes a dog as "hideous" despite telling their friend it looks cute).

2. Tone and Reader Opinions

Piggybacking off of the first point, you can "tell, not show" when you want to be certain about how a reader is supposed to feel about something. "Showing" revolves around readers drawing their own conclusions, so if you want to make sure that every reader draws the same conclusion, "telling" can be more useful! For example, if you describe a character's outfit as being a turquoise jacket with zebra-patterned pants, some readers may be like "Ok yeah a 2010 Justice-core girlie is slaying!" But if you want the outfit to come across as badly arranged, using a "telling" word like "ridiculous" or "gaudy" can help set the stage.

3. Pacing

"Show, don't tell" can often take more words; after all, describing a character's reaction is more complicated than stating how they're feeling. If your story calls for readers to be focused more on the action than the details, such as a fight or chase scene, sometimes "telling" can serve you better than "showing." A lot of writers have dedicated themselves to the rule "tell action, show emotion," but don't feel like you have to restrict yourself to one or the other.

iv. ABOVE ALL ELSE: Getting Words on the Page is More Important!

If you’re stuck on a section of your story and just can’t find it in yourself to write poetic, flowing prose, getting words on the paper is more important than writing something that’s “good.” If you want to be able to come back and fix it later, put your writing in brackets that you can Ctrl + F later.

Keeping your momentum is the hardest part of writing. Don't sacrifice your inspiration in favor of following rules!

3. How Can I Get Better at “Show, Don’t Tell”?

i. Use the Five Senses, and Immerse Yourself!

Imagine you’re the protagonist, standing in the scene that you have just created. Think of the setting. What are things about the space that you’d notice, if you were the one in your character’s shoes?

Smell? Hear? See? Touch? Taste?

Sight and sound are the senses that writers most often use, but don’t discount the importance of smell and taste! Smell is the most evocative sense, triggering memories and emotions the moment someone walks into the room and has registered what is going on inside—don’t take it for granted. And even if your character isn’t eating, there are some things that can be “tasted” in the air.

EXAMPLE:

TELLING: She walked into the room and felt disgusted. It smelled, and it was dirty and slightly creepy. She wished she could leave. SHOWING: She shuffled into the room, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over a suspicious stain on the carpet. The blankets on the bed were moth-bitten and yellowed, and the flowery wallpaper had peeled in places to reveal a layer of blood-red paint beneath…like torn cuticles. The stench of cigarettes and mildew permeated the air. “How long are we staying here again?” she asked, flinching as the door squealed shut. 

The “showing” excerpt gives more of an idea about how the room looks, and how the protagonist perceives it. However, something briefer may be more suited for writers who are not looking to break the momentum in their story. (I.e. if the character was CHASED into this room and doesn’t have time to take in the details.)

ii. Study Movies and TV Shows: Think like a Storyteller, Not Just a Writer

Movies and TV shows quite literally HAVE TO "show, and not tell." This is because there is often no inner monologue or narrator telling the viewers what's happening. As a filmmaker, you need to use your limited time wisely, and make sure that the audience is engaged.

Think about how boring it would be if a movie consisted solely of a character monologuing about what they think and feel, rather than having the actor ACT what they feel.

(Tangent, but there’s also been controversy that this exposition/“telling” mindset in current screenwriting marks a downfall of media literacy. Examples include the new Percy Jackson and Avatar: The Last Airbender remakes that have been criticized for info-dumping dialogue instead of “showing.”)

If you find it easy to envision things in your head, imagine how your scene would look in a movie. What is the lighting like? What are the subtle expressions flitting across the actors' faces, letting you know just how they're feeling? Is there any droning background noise that sets the tone-- like traffic outside, rain, or an air conditioner?

How do the actors convey things that can't be experienced through a screen, like smell and taste?

Write exactly what you see in your mind's eye, instead of explaining it with a degree of separation to your readers.

iii. Listen to Music

I find that because music evokes emotion, it helps you write with more passion—feelings instead of facts! It’s also slightly distracting, so if you’re writing while caught up in the music, it might free you from the rigid boundaries you’ve put in place for yourself.

Here’s a link to my master list of instrumental writing playlists!

iv. Practice, Practice, Practice! And Take Inspiration from Others!

“Show Don’t Tell” is the core of an immersive scene, and requires tons of writing skills cultivated through repeated exposure. Like I said before, more experienced writers instinctively switch between showing and telling as they write— but it’s a muscle that needs to be constantly exercised!

If I haven’t written in a while and need to get back into the flow of things, I take a look at a writing prompt, and try cultivating a scene that is as immersive as possible! Working on your “Show, Don’t Tell” skills by practicing writing short, fun one-shots can be much less restrictive than a lengthier work.

In addition, get some inspiration and study from reading the works of others, whether it be a fanfiction or published novel!

If you need some extra help, feel free to check out my Master List of Writing Tips and Advice, which features links to all of my best posts, each of them categorized !

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

[themilfsland]

Lemme taste my bee-sweetenin’

Pairing(s): Cowgirl farmer Wanda x fem!reader

Summary: a daily life with your cowgirl farmer girlfriend and how you deal with her little obsession.

content: Top Wanda (she denies her bottom vibe), bottom Reader (until Wanda changes her mind), teasing, praising, pet names, mention of punishment, food playing (?), smut, denying, oral kink.

The best-known honey farmer, living in a small and cozy ranch with her girlfriend. But it's not only the pure and sweet honey syrup that is famous, everyone from the village knows how delicious and fresh her handmade honeybuns are. All too ordinary from the neighbors' views, maybe because they don't know the peculiar things about your life as a couple.

Wanda is obsessed with you. To be more specific, she is obsessed with your taste. It's not a surprising matter for you since you figured out she has an oral kink. Every time she bakes her handmade honeybun she asks for your help to try the fresh honey. Although, she never gives you a spoon to do it. The first time you waited for her to hand you the tool to try the honey, but she never did. You get it now. Dipping your finger into the bowl to get some of the syrup then taking it into your mouth to taste it, your eyes straight to hers, never losing her gaze. And it's always the same dialogue.

Wanda: and...? Is it good, sugar?

Y/n: hmmm it's delicious.

Wanda: ya sure? Hmm let me try some.

You keep with the tradition, your finger getting more honey from the bowl, directing it to her mouth, making a little mess on her lips as if you're applying lipstick with your finger, you feel her heavy breath before she runs her tongue over her lips to clean it. Mesmerized by her slow movements, she knows she's always teasing you.

But Wanda wants more and you never deny to her. Honestly, this is what she has been waiting for all this time. Your finger inside her mouth. The sweet taste mixing with the filling you are giving to her with your finger drives her mind dizzy. Usually, you let her play the way she wants, circling her tongue around your finger and sucking it at her own pace. Still, sometimes you like to tease her too, holding her jaw with your fingers pressing firmly on her cheeks while your index finger is inside her mouth, still sticky with honey, making deep in and out movements. The eyes full of pleasure and the muffled moans she gives to you cause your sore core to drip every time.

You love this side of Wanda. The way you encouraged her to let this desire flourish she doesn't even need to use an excuse to taste something from your fingers anymore, she just takes your fingers. In fact, her need to feel and taste you made your entire body an aim. It's so hot and lustful but still so vulnerable from her. You state that because you know how Wanda likes to have control and she makes you very aware of that, especially when you start forgetting your place.

The weekends have a special routine for you and Wanda. In other words, you have a particular rule to follow. No panties. You thought it was just a temporary teasing from her but you learned with some punishments it's a serious rule to follow, and one of her favorites.

-

Another Sunday morning waking up with the smell of coffee and pancakes, or flapjacks as she likes to call. You smile spontaneously, stretching out on the bed but not lying that you wish a little to have the warmth of your girlfriend's body beside you. It was really hard for you, in the beginning, to get used to her early bird clock, but what could you complain? She is a determined farmer, the best, your cowgirl.

Leaving your thoughts behind, you get up still sleepy and follow her rule, took off your panties, and put the pajamas shorts back on. Following that appetizing smell, you go down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Her gaze catches you immediately when you enter the room, she gives you a soft smile and a welcome "Good morning, my sleepy bunny". Even with the smooth tone she used, you noticed how her hungry eyes scanned over your entire body, you felt as if you are undressed. Well, almost like that, the white pajamas that you are wearing with cute strawberries stamped on it was a gift that she gave you weeks ago, comfortable but maybe a little small for your regular size. And It's obvious Wanda does that on purpose, but you honestly don't mind, you like the way she cares about picking out your clothes once in a while.

You walk towards her embrace, it's definitely your favorite place to be, in her arms. She gives a soft kiss on your cheeks before she snuggles her face in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, maybe she's addicted to it too.

Wanda: Did you sleep well, sweetpie?

She asks while picking some shy kisses on your neck making you shiver a little.

Y/n: Yes, I did! But I missed you in our bed when I woke up, you know...

You start feeling the warmth of her body running through your clothes and you wonder why she's always this hot. You have to adjust yourself when you felt her fingertips patting your arm.

Wanda: Ohh I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up, but see, I had to leave bed early to make all these good treats to my pumpkin.

Seeing all those yummy foods on the table makes your mouth water and thinking it became her routine of always doing this, only for you, your heart melts.

Y/n: Well, it sounds like an acceptable excuse, also the smell is sooo good. I may forgive you…

Wanda: It's all for you, sugar....and you're all for me.

She whispers the last sentence while her hand traces the way to your breast, still over your t-shirt she grabs and squeezes gently, just to take a moan from your mouth. Her lips pressed your neck and you can feel that she gave a sly smile with that. You feel the pressure of her thumb rubbing on your nipples, the fine fabric of your t-shirt brushing your skin, the overstimulation is already too much for you to think.

Before she gives you a short break, she makes sure to press her fingers over your upper breast, exactly the spot where she left some of her marks days ago. "I have to map your body with my mouth and make spots in your skin where I'm gonna hide my little treasures" is what she says. And well, she truly does a good job by that. Your thoughts are cut off by her teasing voice and her hand lowering until she holds firmly your ass.

Wanda: but you know, there is one ingredient that is left here.

You know exactly what she's referring to, but you like to play the dumb role, genuinely this is what she's expecting you to do too, she loves when you use your words.

Y/n: hmm really? What would this ingredient be then?

Wanda: It's the honey, my honey, actually.

She says softly, her hand that once was in your ass now is putting the soft material of your shorts to the side, and you give a low whimper due to her act. You only realize how soaked you're when she touches your sensitive folds, her fingers exploring your pussy with slow movements to dampen it with your arousal.

Wanda: oh darlin', you're so wet for me already.

You moan louder than you are expecting by hearing that. She is close to getting what she wants.

Wanda: But I need more, pumpkin, you know that, right? Your soaked and throbbing pussy to taste. C'mon, give me what I want.

That's her game. She noticed a long time ago how her praisings and teasing words cause over you, so she always takes advantage of that. The more she says the more you get wetter, it's like a magic trick she played on you and an infinity source of your taste to her.

Wanda: Lemme taste my bee-sweetenin’, hm?

Your wish is to beg her to thrust her fingers right inside you, but you know it would be in vain. It's her ritual, she presses her fingers harder on your clit, and it's the sign that they are wet enough. You are only able to whine louder and try to keep your legs straight. Then she tastes you. Licking her fingers close to your face just to give you the best view of her tongue taking every drop of your arousal.

Wanda smirks when you bite your own lips and set your hands on her waist. The aching between her legs is the manifestation that she needs more of you. She takes your hands off her and gets down on her knees while making you lean on the counter and spread your legs. The fabric of your pajamas is so soft that she doesn't even bother to take your shorts off, instead, she puts them aside, again, she loves it when your mess makes your clothes sticky.

You whimper when you feel her breath close to your skin, leaving soft kisses on your inner thigh until her lips touch superficially your damped folds, just for teasing you. Her tongue presses for a space, then she traces a path from your cunt to your clit. You don't know if the wetness you feel is her saliva or your arousal anymore, it's all messy and soggy.

Her patience starts to fade when she intensifies her movements, grabbing firmly your thighs to spread even more your legs, your hand threaded through her hair. She thrusts her tongue inside you, taking your arousal to your entrance until you feel you're almost dripping. You angle your hips and pull her head toward you, seeking more contact with her mouth, you need her deeply and faster inside you.

Y/n: ughh faster Wanda, do your job with your mouth.

She stops immediately and looks up to you.

Wanda: what did you just say?

Y/n: ohh no no, I.. I- I just need you.

A heavy regret covering all your thoughts. You know your place, you have to do what she says and take what she gives, it's not that difficult. You are just pathetic to think that she could give some control to you for once. Well, maybe one day, but not today.

Wanda: I don't like the tone you used to me.

Y/n: I know, I'm sorry, Wanda, please.

Already on her feet, she stares at you with disappointed bitter eyes. You start begging her, shy whimpers coming through your mouth when you try to adjust your shorts that she didn't even bother to put back in place.

Wanda: hush your mouth, Y/n. You only take what I give to you and for now you're going to receive nothing.

This Saturday you didn't help Wanda to cook the honeybuns. Actually, she didn't even ask you to do it. She ignored all your direct looks, but you knew she was watching you through the kitchen window when you were cleaning the garden. You felt her gaze on your neck, her distant thoughts planning the best punishment for your bad behavior early. You interrupted her honey tasting and now you will pay for it.

Those soft hands that once were baking those delicious sweet buns will be hard on you tonight.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HE’S LIKE A POEM I WISH I WROTE ☆

eijiro kirishima x reader

more boyfriend thoughts, for his birthday!

inspired by so american

eijiro kirishima, who insists on driving you everywhere. who lets you put your feet on the dashboard, playing your shared playlist. who says he only listens to hard rap but somehow knows all the lyrics to your favourite sappy love songs. who smiles at you when you’re not looking, who almost runs a red because he’s mesmerized by you.

eijiro kirishima, who might be the funniest guy you have ever met. who makes stupid jokes and loves to tease you. who loves your laugh, and can’t help but smile when get gets a genuine laugh out of you. who chases after your smile, and furthermore, your happiness forever. who interchanges calling you bro and babe.

eijiro kirishima, who is really insecure. who doesn’t believe his quirk is heroic or good enough. who thinks its unmanly to speak on his thoughts, so hides behind a smile. who feels safe enough to confide in you about his fears. who sighs when he sees his friends succeeding, cheering them on but wondering if he’ll measure up. who lets you teach him that vulnerability is the manliest thing you can do.

eijiro kirishima, who has the deepest morning voice known to man. who will lazily prop himself up on one elbow, smiling at you when you stir awake. who’ll pull you back into bed and ask just where you think you’re going when you try to get up. who’ll wake you up with kisses to your shoulder and whispering dumb jokes into your ear. who is never not spooning you, loving the warmth you radiate.

eijiro kirishima, who maybe isn’t the sharpest tool, but who is the master of subtlety. who remembers tiny details about you, like nail biting or your sleep habits. who reminds you to eat or take your medicine without expecting anything in return. who is your biggest cheerleader, validating all of your feelings and who is proud of you no matter what.

eijiro kirishima, who treats you like his trophy. who gets so excited with his boys, chanting after every achievement because they’ve come so far. who runs to you and kisses you because you’re the best thing he’s ever done. who loves you because no amount of success in his life will measure up to how much he adores you.

eijiro kirishima, who wonders if he’s boring sometimes. who wonders if he’s too plain or not flashy enough. who, at first, works out because he doesn’t feel good enough, but eventually learns to do it with you. who pushed you through that last set and gives you a kiss on the forehead when you push through. who you love to hug despite how sweaty he may be.

eijiro kirishima, who loves when you wear his clothes. who thinks you look so pretty in them. who hands are so warm, they make hell seem cold. who loves his bed, but finds it hard to sleep when you’re with him. who’ll stay up way past his bedtime, having late night conversations with with his one and only. who just smiles when you fall asleep, pressing a kiss to your forehead before sleeping alongside you.

eijiro kirishima, who apologizes the moment he thinks he’s being too much or if its too soon. who doesn’t want to assume where this is going, or what you two are. who doesn’t just have a feeling- who knows he’s in love. who wonders if you are too, and who lets you kiss away his worries and doubts. who you swear to marry if he keeps this shit up. <3

[estesphantom]

Midnight Bite | Bucky Barnes & Reader

Summary: It was another one of those nights Bucky spent sleeping on the floor while fighting memories of his past. Conveniently, he had you next to him and some snacks in the kitchen.

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), pre-established “situationship”, unprotected sex, nightmares, age gap (considering Bucky is over a hundred years old), slight dom/sub, not entirely proofread, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

Your chest rose and fell intermittently as your eyes were glued on your partner’s resting body. The hardwood floor felt worth sleeping on if it meant Bucky didn’t feel alone sleeping there when you were accompanying him. The TV chattered on low volume and the lights lit up the living room ever so slightly so that it wasn’t pitch black. The house was kept this way when he slept to feel safer while simultaneously preventing his night terrors.

On the contrast, these conditions did everything but help you have peace when you slept. Here you lay unable to sleep, however, you were content with that as you got watching him sleep as a fair trade.

His eyebrows began to scrunch closer together. Yours mirrored his as you watched him in confusion. His body slowly grew restless in small motions such as fingers twitching and tossing and turning. He told you not to wake him for your own safety, so you hoped this was just a vivid dream and not a nightmare. You knew this was wishful thinking.

He continued to progress in stress and fear until he subconsciously broke out in tears and eventually woke himself up. By this time you inched closer to his body to make sure things didn’t get serious. He jolted up and his eyes darted around the room before they met yours. He let out a brief, hard sigh.

You frowned in sympathy. “You’re safe,” you say gently as you place a light hand on his bare arm. His breathing began to return to a normal pace ever so slowly as he slumped against a wall. He was too shocked to speak or process your presence at the moment.

“They won’t go away,” the man sounded childlike and defeated as he stared at the wall. You scooted right next to him and laid your head on his shoulder to bring him back a little more.

It came clear to him that physical strength doesn’t mean a thing when his brain is the most power tool that serves his body, yet poisons any ounce of peace offered to him.

“Maybe that’s the truth for now,” you say, inhaling. “But time heals all wounds. You’ll make it out alive,” you smile at him reassuringly after you lift your head up to see his tired, loving eyes meet yours.

He picked up your hand. His rough, calloused thumb caressed the back of your hand as he raised your hand to give it a kiss. You smiled at him even more. Making you smile was something that made Bucky feel more human. Less killing-machine like.

“Grab a snack with me?” he asks, standing up and lifting you up gently. You giggle as he carries you to the kitchen and sets you down on the counter. He opens his fridge and glances at you. “All right, doll, strawberries? Blueberries? Yogurt?” he listed off things he knew you liked. Your legs swung as you ruminated.

“Yogurt,” you spoke after a few moments of debating.

“Yogurt it is,” he says, grabbing two for the both of you. He peeled yours open and grabbed a spoon, scooping a little out.

Your legs we had enough room in between them so that he could stand between them. He leaned against the counter and placed a gentle hand on your chin, opening your jaw ever so gently and feeding you the yogurt with the other hand. You swallowed it with a hum of satisfaction.

His thumb wiped off the excess yogurt on the side of your mouth. His eyes seemed so calculating. He watched you like a hawk. It made you sort of nervous, how close you were and the look in his eyes. You could recognize that look from anywhere.

“No, Buck, it’s midnight,” you say before he feeds you another scoop of yogurt. He chuckles smugly.

His hand placed the yogurt down and snaked around the back of your neck. You gulped the yogurt down and sharply inhaled as you knew where this was going. His other hand rested on your thigh and remained stationary, waiting for consent.

You sighed and giggled, nodding at him.

“‘Atta girl,” he kissed your chin. “I wasn’t interested in this yogurt anyway.”

He pushed the yogurts out the way and, with both hands, pushed your thighs apart. You gasp in surprise as cold metal laid on your right thigh. Your lips were suddenly shut as they met his. The kiss was feverish and sloppy as he used one hand hooked the waistband of your pajama shorts. You lifted your hips and he slid your shorts off.

He broke the kiss to admire his beautiful doll spread on the counter just for him. All his. You blushed in slight embarrassment, feeling exposed before him.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, doll, every bit of you,” he mutters as if he’s saying it to himself. He peppered your face in loving kissed before placing both hands on your waist and pulling you to the edge of the counter, laying you down.

Your chest rose as you gasped for air, feeling his lips on your clit. Your hands grabbed for any nearby surface as you felt his tongue lick across your clit painstakingly slow. A moan escaped your lips as you felt two metal fingers coat itself in your slick and enter your body while his tongue simultaneously explored your core.

His fingers curved inside of you, slowly pulling in and out. Your back arched as his tongue gained a little bit more speed from when it was familiarizing itself. You began to squirm and whimper as the sensation was already a lot for you.

He didn’t allow this, of course, and used his free, warm hand to firmly grab onto your waist. You moaned in agony as you were held in place and had to endure the sensation. There were nothing but butterflies in your stomach.

Once again, his fingers increased in speed. You moaned even louder while your hand clasped onto the one holding your waist down in a desperate attempt to be freed to squirm. To no avail, it stayed.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, princess,” you felt his voice vibrate against your clit. Your walls clenched around his fingers as they incessantly picked up speed.

“Fuck, I might—“ as you spoke, Bucky immediately pulled his fingers out and stood from his position. You groaned in even more agony as the sensation quickly died down in your body.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it,” he tutted, his hand on back to guide you to sit up a little. Your eyes begrudgingly looked into his as you sat up to eye level with him.

His flesh hand opened up your jaw, two of his metal fingers entered your mouth. He had you taste the fresh slick of your core before he slid his fingers out of your mouth and chuckled. Your eyes were big and round while gazing at him.

“So good f’me, not an utter of complaint,” he smirked before guiding your smaller hands to his boxers. You sharply inhaled as you pulled them down low enough before they fell at his ankles.

He laid you back down on his cold counter before spreading your legs once again. You felt his warm tip tease your entrance as it coated itself in your slick. Your eyes squeezed shut. His hands rested firmly on your hips.

“Tell me when you’re ready for me to start moving, okay?” he warns. You felt his cock enter you and you whimpered in pain.

You struggled to even clench as he filled you up. Pain was the first thing you felt as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you. You heard him groan in pleasure above you. The unspoken thing about Super Soliders was that they were large in not only length, but also girth. You struggled as you felt yourself stretch against him.

“So fuckin’ small, you are,” he gritted out as his hips finally met your pelvis. You took a deep, long breath.

“Okay, I’m okay,” you muttered out. His thumb caressed your waist in response and his cock slowly pulled out. You moaned as the pain subsided into pleasure. Delicious, drool-worthy pleasure. He was big, and it felt like he was sculpted just for you.

Beginning at an easy pace, he thrusted in and out of your body, earning moans and groans from the both of you. You clenched around his cock in pleasure as you stretched just so perfectly around him. He felt the same way; Bucky lifted one hand off of your waist to grope your breast through your thin tank top.

Your moans began to increase as he picked up his pace to a perfect speed. He used a thumb to circle on your clit. He grinned at the sight of you; drooling, moaning, your cunt stretched as far as it can for his cock. The perfect view if you asked him.

He fucked you silly.

“I-I’m not lasting for much longer, Buck,” you managed to ease out as you felt your climax coming in quickly.

He picked up the speed as he groaned, not being able to form a response. You were so perfect. Your moans and groans turned to a symphony as you both were in sync, getting closer and closer.

“Cum for me baby,” he pleaded with you as he thrusted in and out of you. You whimpered in response and felt warmth all over your body as you reached your climax, he seemed to do the same as you felt warm seed enter your body. He groaned in pleasure and relief.

He thrusted in and out of you sloppily as you felt your clit throb from exhaustion. He pulled out of you slowly to give your body time to adjust. As he left your body, you felt his cum deep out of you. You groaned in uncomfortableness.

He kissed your damp forehead, grabbing a nearby tissue and wiping the leaked cum off of your skin. He peppered your face in kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and ‘thank you’s to you.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader - dirty talk

summary: natasha made a mess while carving pumpkins and you did too

warning: flirting, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of a porn plot

word count: 2k

an: ugh i have such a writing block these last days, especially with smut:(( hope you´ll like this one!

You and Natasha are in the kitchen, surrounded by pumpkins, carving tools, and a few snacks. The atmosphere is light and cozy, with soft music playing in the background. Natasha has a determined look, taking her pumpkin carving seriously, while you are more focused on having fun.

You start carving your pumpkins together, chatting about your designs. “Nat, I’m going for the classic scary face. What about you?”

“I’m thinking something more intricate. Maybe a spider web?” she replies, her focus sharp as ever.

You admire how her hands glide over the pumpkin. She smiles softly when you compliment her skills, making your heart skip a beat. You’re not the best at carving, but Natasha is patient, even showing you the best way to cut the top off. “Like this?” you ask, after her demonstration.

“Perfect,” she grins, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

The lightness between you two is full of laughter, smiles, and the smell of fresh pumpkin. Things start to get a bit more playful when you’re scooping out the insides of the pumpkin. Natasha hands you a spoon and says, “You need to dig deeper to get everything out,” she advises, showing you how to scoop.

You pause, the double meaning not lost on you, and glance over at her with a mischievous smirk. “Deeper, huh? Got it.” You make sure to draw out the word, giving her a pointed look.

Natasha raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, though you notice the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. You keep teasing. “What if I can't get it all? Maybe I need some help… I’m sure you’ve got more experience with this.”

She laughs, shaking her head as if she’s used to your antics. But she plays along, leaning in just slightly. “I could help… but then you’d miss out on all the fun of doing it yourself,” she flirts back, her voice dropping just a little, playful but smooth.

As you carve, the suggestive comments keep flowing, Natasha remarks, “Don’t be afraid to make it bigger, sometimes you just have to really push through.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not afraid of making it bigger.” You notice how she watches you, her smile widening at your boldness. There's a shared moment of tension, but it’s still lighthearted, the air thickening as you both push the boundaries a little more.

Natasha finally wipes her hands on a towel, standing closer to you as she looks down at your half-carved pumpkin. “You’re getting good at this. I might have to start coming to you for help,” she says, the flirtation clear now.

You smirk, looking up at her. “Oh, I’m always happy to lend a hand… or two, if you need it.”

You’re feeling pretty smug, pushing Natasha’s buttons with your cheeky comments, enjoying the way her eyes darken just a bit more with each tease. But as the playful chat escalates, you realize you may have underestimated your girlfriend.

After your last remark about lending her a hand, Natasha steps closer. The space between you feels smaller now, her presence more intense. She leans over, pretending to inspect your pumpkin, her arm brushing against yours, the contact sparking something that has your breath catching.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth, “for someone who talks such a big game, you’re looking a little… flustered.”

Your confidence wavers for the first time, the bold, flirty front you’ve been putting up starting to crack under her closeness. You can feel her body heat, her arm pressing just a little firmer against yours, and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of everything about her—her scent, her breath, her fingers barely grazing your wrist as she reaches for the spoon again.

“Flustered? Pfft, no way,” you try to laugh it off, but it comes out shakier than you intended. She notices, of course.

“Oh?” Natasha's voice is laced with amusement now. She picks up the spoon again, leaning even closer as she digs into the pumpkin, her arm brushing your shoulder. “You were so bold a second ago… what happened? Did I say something to make you nervous?”

Her words are soft, but the intent behind them is clear. Your heart races. You can’t tell if it’s because of the closeness or the way her fingers seem to linger on your arm just a bit too long. You feel your face heat up, and the teasing confidence you had a moment ago evaporates.

“N-no, I’m fine,” you stammer, but Natasha’s smirk tells you she doesn’t believe a word of it.

“Mmm, I don’t know… you seem a little quiet all of a sudden. Where’s all that sass gone?” Her voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that has you swallowing hard.

You fumble with your spoon, trying to focus on your pumpkin, but Natasha’s hand suddenly covers yours, guiding it. Her touch is firm but gentle, and you realize how shaky your own hand has become. She leans in, her lips dangerously close to your ear.

“Deeper,” she whispers again, this time her voice lower, more intimate. The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you nearly drop the spoon.

Her breath brushes against your neck, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You can’t think of anything to say, all the bratty confidence you’d had melting under the intensity of her attention. “What’s wrong?” she asks, her tone teasing but soft, like she’s genuinely enjoying watching you unravel. “You’re not backing down already, are you?”

You try to regain control, but Natasha’s hand lingers on yours, and she shifts just a little closer, her body now pressing lightly against yours as she leans forward to inspect the pumpkin. Her proximity is overwhelming, and you can feel the heat from her body seeping into yours, making it harder to concentrate.

“I-I’m not backing down,” you manage to say, but your voice is quieter, less sure. You hate how easily she’s turning the tables on you, but the way her fingers lightly trace patterns on your skin makes it hard to think straight.

Natasha chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of her laughter against your shoulder. She straightens up but doesn’t move away. Instead, she tilts your chin up with her finger, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Are you sure about that?” she asks, her eyes locked on yours. The intensity of her gaze makes your pulse quicken, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

You nod, but it’s clear you’re no longer in control of the situation. Natasha’s lips curl into a smirk, and she leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “Good. Because I like it when you squirm.”

Her words send a jolt of electricity through you. You’re not sure if it’s her touch, her voice, or the way she’s looking at you like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

And she knows it really well.

You’re still trying to gather yourself when Natasha takes the spoon from your hand, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that makes your heart skip. She looks at the pumpkin, then back at you with a glint in her eyes, the playful energy between you two thickening.

“You’re struggling with this, huh?” she teases, holding the spoon as if she’s still considering whether it’ll do the job.

“I’ve got it,” you protest weakly, but your voice isn’t convincing—especially not with the way your pulse is racing.

Natasha tilts her head, watching you for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “I don’t think this spoon is going to cut it,” she says, her voice low. She tosses the spoon aside, the soft clink barely registering in your mind. “Sometimes, you just have to get in there with your hands, really dig deep to get what you want.”

Your breath hitches as she grabs your hand, pulling it toward the pumpkin. Her fingers wrap around yours, warm and strong, and you feel her body shift even closer until her chest is lightly pressed against your back. The contact is intoxicating, her presence swallowing you up. She leans down, her lips hovering just over your ear.

“Don’t be shy,” she whispers, her voice sultry. “You were so eager to get in deep, weren’t you?”

The teasing tone sends a shiver through you, and you nod without thinking, too distracted by the way her breath feels hot against your skin. Natasha's fingers tighten around yours as she guides your hand into the pumpkin, her body pressing closer.

“Like this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear. Her hand covers yours as you both reach into the hollowed pumpkin. The sensation of the cool, squishy insides mixes with the heat of her touch, making it hard to focus on anything but the feel of her against you.

She chuckles softly when she feels your hand tremble under hers. “Getting messy already?” she teases, her voice like velvet. “I told you, you’ve got to get all the way in… can’t just half-ass it.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep up with her banter, but it’s impossible to think clearly when she’s this close. Natasha slowly pulls your hand deeper into the pumpkin, her breath now warm on your neck.

“You need to scoop it all out,” she whispers, her lips grazing your skin as she speaks. “Get every last bit. Can’t leave anything behind, right?” There’s a clear double meaning in her words, and it’s not lost on you. The tension is unbearable, but somehow thrilling.

You try to respond, but your voice fails you, caught in your throat as her fingers slide over yours, helping you scoop out more of the pumpkin’s insides. Your breathing is shaky, and Natasha's grip tightens as she senses your hesitation.

“What’s wrong? Not so confident now, are you?” Her voice is teasing but hushed, like a secret only the two of you share. “You know, I love seeing you like this… so quiet, so obedient. It’s a nice change from all that sass earlier.”

You try to say something - anything, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Natasha’s chuckle is low, the sound vibrating against your back.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispers, her lips just grazing your ear again. “All that talk, and now look at you… completely at my mercy.”

You feel her hand shift slightly, her fingers curling tighter around yours as you both pull a handful of pumpkin guts from the inside. The squelching sound fills the silence, but all you can focus on is how close she is, how her lips are almost brushing against your skin.

Natasha pulls your hand out of the pumpkin, still holding it in hers, the sticky pumpkin innards clinging to your fingers. She leans in even closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “See? Isn’t it better when you just let me take control?”

Your heart pounds, and you can’t help but nod. She smirks, obviously pleased with your reaction, and gently squeezes your hand, letting the pumpkin flesh fall to the table.

“You’re such a mess,” she murmurs, her voice a tantalizing mix of teasing and affection. “But I like it. You’re cute when you squirm.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the rush of nervous energy that’s overtaken you. Natasha turns your hand over in hers, inspecting the sticky mess on your fingers with a thoughtful look.

“Guess we’ll have to clean this up, huh?” she muses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The smirk that spreads across her lips is wicked, and you know she’s not just talking about the pumpkin. She´s talking about the mess between your legs too.

Her thumb brushes over your knuckles, her touch sending another wave of heat through you. She leans in, her breath once again warm on your neck as she whispers, “Next time, maybe we can skip the pumpkins… and just get messy with each other.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and before you can even think of a response, she presses a soft kiss just below your ear, the contact so light, but enough to make your knees go weak.

In the end, it wasn’t just the pumpkins Natasha worked her hands through.

Thank you for reading!

[6okuto]

bf headcanons for tsukki pls?

TSUKISHIMA RELATIONSHIP HCS

gn!reader | happy birthday tsukki...🫶🫶

king of saying "no" when you ask for a favour while doing it. you'll ask him to pass your glass of water and he'll say no but, without even looking, slide it to you

(risky) umbrella holder. like he Will hold it for the both of you, but he'll move away from and taunt you if you try to annoy him sometimes

^ likes it when you help dry his hair once you both get inside but he doesn't say that. though he doesn't really have to when he's falling asleep while you comb your hands through his hair

remembers if you have meds to take, an appointment coming up, etc. usually won't just bring it up to check with you, but will mention it while planning for things or if he notices you feel off

"guys will take the ugliest photos of you and think they're amazing" no he definitely knows which ones are objectively just like, not good. to be fair he Does find some of them pretty cute Despite how blurry/bad you might look

flips between an awful and good photo of you for your contact photo. you think it's Just the awful one until you check his phone one day and find out he does in fact have good photos of you which is crazy i know!

the guy who keeps getting all the upgrades and tools while gaming except he doesn't share with people. one of his only exceptions is you (sometimes you do have to threaten him though /lh)

also helps You study if no one else. kei is actually pretty good at figuring out the study methods best for you, and manages to quiz you on things you might have overlooked

wordlessly walks up behind you and waits for you to notice. will stand there in silence for like 10 seconds then makes fun of you for not realizing or laughs when you get scared

kei isn't really one to initiate pda, but if he sees his teammates (jealously) looking at you guys, he might put his arm around your shoulder, or talk about date plans just to be annoying. lol.

goes red if you come to watch his game and cheer, but uses it as motivation. < the rest of the team Will keep teasing him and Also using it to motivate him like "better look extra cool today, huh?" "you better not mess up today, tsukishima!"

! teaming up with everyone to tease him. give him a taste of his own medicine fr. and if he tries to throw anything back one of them can just go "tsukishima, is that how you treat your partner?" As if he's said something any more insulting than usual

of course he makes height jokes if you're shorter and not super bothered by them. Of course. at the very least, you can make it his responsibility to look above crowds, reach things for the both of you, etc in return

assumes he'd be the bigger spoon and is surprised if you pat the bed for him to be hugged instead. he finds it a little awkward, but to be fair he's awkward around all physical affection/cuddling in the first place. it takes time, but kei comes to appreciate being taken care of/held, though if anyone were to find out he'd want to poof out of existence for a bit

i think one cute trend that would really work on him is the one where you pretend your sweater smells weird, and when they bend down to smell too, you kiss their forehead. kei is about to tease you and ask if you made sure to throw it into the laundry, and immediately freezes when he feels your lips on his skin. he sits up and looks away and says you're annoying or whatever, but his cheeks are so so red

if you're one to wear one of his sweaters, or maybe just hold it while you're at his house, he either teases you for being needy or goes "is that my sweater?" and then does nothing about it. sometimes he won't even say anything. if you pay attention he'll be wearing whatever it was the next time you see him, and makes it a habit to leave something on his bed for you to grab

if kei sees you talking to his brother he Will try to drag you away or try (fail) to stare discretely. who knows what stories akiteru will tell you, or what you're both scheming.

anytime akiteru asks him about his relationship or how you're doing and does the whole older brother "you're growing up so fast" spiel, he wishes he could melt into a puddle

big quality time fan. if you're one to not be comfortable with physical affection, kei totally understands and is great with that. there's a lot of days where you guys just hang out in one of your rooms, go out to eat or see a performance, etc and as long as you guys are enjoying yourselves, that's all you need

....bad at flirting. like flirting that isn't you guys teasing/insulting each other back and forth. one time the guys were trying to "help him with his game" while texting you and he physically struggled to type their suggestions so he just turned off his phone and said he should block all of them. the most you'll usually get from him is energy of like, "you want me so bad it makes you look stupid" LOL

he tells you that celebrating his birthday isn't a big deal, and that you really really do not,, should not,, make it one. but if you're dating, it means you know him well enough to realize he Does appreciate gifts, and people caring about him.

he gets embarrassed and awkward when people sing happy birthday but who doesn't really. he stares at the cake you custom ordered or made yourself, and tries to ignore how loud everyone is singing. his eyes widen when you explain how much thought you put into your gift(s), and though he struggles with words, he thanks you and takes care to put it somewhere safe until he can appreciate it alone.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream and baking with them!

Mark Lee

Thinks that he can handle baking a cake but is probably stressed out already during grocery shopping. He lets you take the lead, afraid that he might ruin it for the two of you. The type to just gaze on what you are doing. Probably tried to be helpful like cracking the egg or measuring the ingredients. TRIES!!! so hard to make sure that he's doing it right,,, asks you again and again before proceeding to do it. "I'll just pour all of this?" "Mark, for the last time yes, it's on the recipe." 

Huang Renjun

Oh he's the perfect assistant! He reads the recipe so that you don't have to look at the recipe over and over again. Helps you by getting the tools and needs. Also a perfectionist, like if the recipe says 1 cup, it has to be 1 cup!! He's very helpful since he knows his way to the kitchen, probably preheats the oven while you mix the ingredient, and while you two wait for it the pastry to bake, he made a drink for the two of you to enjoy! :<

Lee Jeno

Another one who's lets you take the lead. Literally, like a puppy following you everywhere. Probably the type to backhug you while you measure ingredients. He thinks he's helping but he's not, but he's an emotional support, so it's fine!! I feel like he read the recipe and while you already memorized the recipe by heart, so when you skipped an ingredient, he stops you and just panics, like,,, "is that part of the instructions?" you laughed at how serious he was, but you assured him that you know what you're doing. 

Lee Donghyuck

Baking with Haechan is kinda stressful but that's because he sees that you're having a hard time with the cake, (in your defense, it's your first time baking a cake.) Probably takes the lead more, has a serious expression on his face, (even if it was his first time baking a cake too.) You watch as he skillfully mixed the ingredient, place it at the baking pan, and put it inside the oven. Oh, and when you two are making the icing, he'll be the type to get a spoonful of it just to taste it. (He had three more spoons later lol.)

Na Jaemin

Baking with Jaemin sounds like a very peaceful thing to do!! You can hear the song playing from the speaker, probably a soft lo-fi or something from your shared playlist!! It's so serene and calm that you two don't really speak to each other and have a sort-of telepathic connection on what to do. You two would work together on baking a cake, like how Jaemin measure and pour the ingredients while you mix it with a handmixer. Would probably smear flour on your cheek but it won't go to that extent that you two are throwing flour at each other. 

Zhong Chenle

I feel like Chenle is very confident with his cooking skills, so he takes the lead!! But once it gets complicated, he'll ask you help. Once you're the one who's taking the lead, Chenle would probably be the type to be clinging on you. He's like a koala on you, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulder as you mix the batter. You probably had a hard time moving because your boyfriend is being stubborn lol. 

Park Jisung

He's ban in the kitchen tbh. BUT sometimes he really wants to help you with your baking because he likes spending quality time with you. Probably the type to watch from a far but you tend to ask him to do stuff like cracking the egg or maybe pour the ingredient while you mix the batter. Oh and he's such a foodie!! Like, he's the type to watch you while he nimble on the crushed chocolates or maybe he found a snack on your pantry so he's munching that while you bake. 

[nica-my-beloved]

Tropes In Ikemen Series Games That I Dislike

These are my opinion so no hate!

MC BEING SHY AND BLUSHING AT THE SLIGHTEST TEASING

Some times I find it cute, but other times I wish she would just tease the male leads back.

A lighthearted flirtatious teasing would be funny to watch.

TOO MUCH SEXUAL INTERACTIONS

I understand, it spices up the story but when the most random interaction suddenly turn into a hot making out session just turns me off.

Some times in some scenes, when the moment is right, the whole steamy scene does feel nice. But not all cases.

SUBMISSIVE MCs

I mean, it's fine. I just wish the MCs were more diverse. The Ikemen MCs are way too submissive for my good. They don't even TRY to resist the advances of male lead.

They are so much in love with the guy they met for 2 weeks that they are ready to let them sleep with her, which is awkward as hell.

VERY PURE HEARTED MCs

I don't mind again, but they are not relatable at all. And I've already mentioned in one of my posts that MCs are not meant to be relatable. They are just tools that the writers use for spoon-feeding the stories to the players (because they think we're too dumb to understand the character's personality or intentions). But that doesn't mean I don't want variety.

There are so many different personalities, yet why are the MCs always so kind, so hardworking, so pure, so timid. Some times I dream about an MC who is lazy, foodie, loves shopping, doesn't like studying, doesn't care about what people say about her, doesn't like talking to people, doesn't even try to get along with people who treats her like shit, likes anime and has wallpapers of shirtless Sylus on her laptop, never follows rules......am I describing myself? Yep!

MCs don't have to hold a gun or kill someone or be the Queen of the Underworld. She can still be cool wearing pajamas and sunglasses, dancing on top of her bed at Shinee's Ring Ding Dong (I still love that song!)

THE USUAL CLICHES

Including random people coming inside the room (without knocking ofc), sees MC and a male lead in bed (fully clothed, or not doesn't matter) and still thinking that they slept together. Also MC wasting time and energy to clear up their 'misunderstanding'.

MC's promising that she will never fall in love but breaks her promise. She had one job!

MCs......*holding back puke* teaching male leads turru love *cringe 101*

Similar personality male leads. For example: Kurama, Silvio, Jude. Arthur, Sueharu, Nokto, Nica. I need more variety.

One month time period bullshit! It doesn't matter when at the end MCs are leaving their world to join the male lead (who they know only for a month). Maybe give like a 6 months or an year. Then I'll believe you.

I don't like the killing trope, where the male leads openly saying 'I'll kill you someday'. It triggers me and I don't really find it romantic in any sense.

Always MCs falling in love first and not the male lead. I understand that we play from the MC's perspective, but I really want to know how it feels when the male lead fall in love with MC first. It could be interesting.

Male leads leaving/breaking-up with MCs for her own happiness is also bullshit. I'm tired of seeing this over and over again and it annoys me. The male leads would always be like 'MC, you're not suppose to be in this world. You deserve happiness blah blah blah...' I don't like this because at the end, they eventually change their minds and decides to accept her. If they wanted her then why let go of her? So annoying. I just want a male lead, who is like 'I don't care if my world is shitty, I love MC and I want to be with her! I'll always make her happy and protect her!'

[breadbrobin]

friendship bracelets

leo valdez x reader — heroes of olympus

[gn!child of demeter reader]

summary: friendship bracelets are a love language in themselves. it’s a shame leo can’t wear the ones you make him.

warnings: little bit of swearing, possibly ooc leo, fluff, food and eating, leo forgets to eat sometimes.

word count: 1.2k

(so i wrote a leo fic too uhhhh. anyway. i love him and i have always loved him and i will always love him, so here’s a lil gift from me to you and uhhh yeah enjoy!)

——————————————

you’d given leo two bracelets. one was at the wilderness school. it was flimsy and made of red and yellow beads, held together by an elastic tie you’d smuggled into the school. the second was after your first quest. you’d managed to get some leather straps and made a braided leather bracelet for him.

he thought you’d made them for your other friends too, but he soon found out that he was the only one to get a matching leather bracelet with you.

“i don’t have enough for everyone,” was your excuse as you hid your rolls of leather threads and straps under your pillow. “i wish i could.”

that was good enough for him.

he soon realised, though, that he couldn’t wear them.

the risk of them burning was far too high, and after he nearly melted the beaded one when he got too excited one day, he decided to stop wearing them.

they held pride of place on his bedside table though. they were right beside his three-day-old water glass and the shrivelled pot plant you’d given him that you swore he’d be able to keep alive.

“it’s a cactus, leo! you can’t kill a cactus.”

he killed the cactus. or, at least, he mostly killed the cactus. you’d even named it jeremiah in the hopes that it would make him remember to water it, but he’d known a jeremiah once and hated his guts, so it hadn’t really helped much.

so leo valdez was a plant-killing, bracelet ignoring bastard. what was new?

oh, nothing. just the fact that he was madly in love with you.

maybe it was the bracelets, or your insistence that he would be able to keep a little cactus alive, or your uncontrollable laughter as he showed you the wilted plant, or maybe even the way you used your influence over plants to heal the little cactus and bring it back to life.

whatever it was, he was totally screwed. so screwed, in fact, that he took to staring at the two bracelets on his table every night before going to sleep, wishing he could wear them to see the look on your face.

leo worked hard. he always did. once he got into something, he didn’t stop until it was finished. sometimes, that meant ignoring his body’s need for food and water.

you marched into bunker 9 with a bag in hand. “leo valdez!”

he looked up from his workbench. “what did i do? whatever it was, it wasn’t me. i swear.”

“yeah, you didn’t do anything. like eat! i didn’t see you at breakfast or lunch!” you sat on his workbench beside him and placed the bag down in front of his busy hands. “it’s three o’clock now, so i bought you food.”

“i really have to—“

“eat? yes, you do.”

“no, but—“

“and drink water? that too. there’s a water bottle in there.”

“y/n—“

“leo, if you don’t eat your food i’ll break your hands so you can’t work anymore and then i’ll spoon feed you chicken soup every day until your hands are better.”

he looked up at you, offended. “i hate chicken soup.”

you smiled and leaned forward. “i know. so eat your fucking food.”

he raised his hands in defeat. “okay, fine.” he set his tools down and opened the bag with a teasing roll of his eyes. “if it pleases you so.”

“it does, indeed.”

as he ate, you walked around the bunker as you did every time, your hands behind your back like you were at an art gallery. to you, it was a gallery. bunker 9 was like the inside of leo’s mind: chaotic, messy, always moving and changing, and covered in memories of you. there were polaroid pictures that you’d given him pinned to a cork board. the whiteboard beside it read: ‘meet y/n for campfire’. there was even a note you’d scrawled to him in Ancient Greek a few weeks ago: ‘don’t forget to eat, dumbass.’ Apparently, he hadn’t listened to that one.

you walked back over just as he finished his food. he made to hand the back bag to you, but you stopped him. “you didn’t get everything.”

he frowned and opened the bag again, looking inside. “what are you— oh!”

he reached in and pulled out a leather bracelet. it was similar to the one you’d made him before, but tidier. you’d clearly gotten better at making them. “it’s beautiful, but, y/n, you know i can’t—“

“you can’t wear them because you’ll burn them. i know. put it on.” you smiled knowingly.

he put it on warily. it was nice, and his heart fluttered a little at the gesture, but he still couldn’t wear it out of fear.

“now burn it.”

his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. “what?”

“burn it.”

“i’m not gonna—“

“do you trust me?”

“sometimes, like when you tell me to burn your hard work, i don’t, no.”

you stepped forward and tightened the bracelet on his wrist. “leo. burn it. or i will.”

he frowned up at you. “you’re very scary today.”

“thank you,” you smiled, stepping back. “just trust me.”

he sighed and shook his head, but lit his hand and lower arm on fire, watching forlornly as the bracelet melted to nothing—hold on. he extinguished the fire. the bracelet was still there. “how did you—?”

“talked to lou ellen. there’s a spell on that one. i had to get her to do it as i made it, but it won’t burn. it’s magic.” you smiled proudly, rocking back and forth on your heels.

he looked at you in shock and stood up. “you made a fire resistant bracelet for me?”

you shrugged. “of course, i did. and look!” you extended your wrist to him, showing a matching one. “i made a better one for me too!”

he looked from your wrist to your face with his signature impish grin. “thought you didn’t have enough to make anymore.”

you shrugged. “maybe i underestimated myself.”

“maybe you did.”

for a moment, you just smiled at each other, and he thought he could have kissed you right there and maybe (just maybe) from the look on your face you wouldn’t push him away, but then you slipped your hand into his and pulled him to another work bench. his hand was still warm, as always. “now, tell me what this is, because i have no idea.”

so, as he explained how one of his many projects worked and you hung onto his every word and held his hand tightly, he couldn’t help but feel a little warmer than usual.

and maybe, when you left that afternoon, leaving him to continue his work, pressing a kiss to his cheek like you always did, he could summon the courage to pull you back in for a kiss on your lips, like he’d always wanted. and maybe your friendship bracelets would turn into something more.

but, even if they didn’t, he knew he’d fall asleep that night without staring at his bedside table. he’d stare at his wrist instead. and he’d never take that bracelet off. ever. not even if the gods themselves required him to.

[papaya-queen]

Teenage Dirtbag babyy !! - F2/3/F1 academy grid

my first smau - please be kind I’m new with the tools

Y/N x Paul Aron - Ollie Bearman x Andrea Kimi Antonelli - Abbi Pulling x Doriane Pin

<3

Later - 3 am

Yourusername

Yourusername I’m just a teenage dirtbag babyyy

tagged : paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, racerbia and 6 others

User1 young drivers on social media are a blessing

User2 WAIT IS THAT OLLIE AND KIMI ?!!

            User3 AND DORIANE AND ABBI ?!!

maxverstappen1 stop posting on social media and answer our calls

User4 oh to be a part of that friend group …

<3

Racerbia

Racerbia never let Y/N plan the hangout

tagged : yourusername, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, paularon_ and 6 others

Yourusername hey !!! It was amazing !

User6 AFTER BEARNELLI AND PINING WE GOT PAULY/N ?!!!

Arvid.lindblad actually the best hangout of my life

            Yourusername finally who someone likes my hangout plan

            Landonorris wait until tomorrow morning

<3

The next day

Sunlight was already picking through the curtains when Y/N woke up. Her head was hurting, like someone was hitting it from inside. She tried to get herself up, but some weight was keeping her pinned against the mattress. She turned her head and saw a blond head she knew too well. Sure, her and Paul were big on physical touch but sleeping like this never happened. She carefully shifted to see the room without letting go of Paul’s embrace.

Y/N observed the room and the people in it. She could recognize Kimi and Ollie on the couch opposed to her, the older spooning the other. She had a moment of confusion, but she knew Kimi and Ollie had always been big on PDA even as friends. She kept looking around, checking if all her friends did make it back to the apartment. Arvid, Dino, Maya and Bianca were all sleeping on the floor with some blanket resting on them. And on the armchair, you could find Abbi and Doriane literally glued to each other, managing to fit in the tight chair. Y/N tried to get up to go eat something but all the moving and shifting in Paul’s arm woke him up.

“Hi princess!” he said with the sleepiest voice ever.

“Hi baby!” she responded, hugging him tighter.

Then she got up, after spending a few minutes convincing Paul to let her go. Y/N walked to the kitchen, open the door and faced Charles, Max, Oscar and Lewis. She brutally closed the door before reopening it. “Good morning, everybody!”

“Good afternoon actually!” Charles pointing the clock on the wall. He was right, it was indeed way past noon. 3pm actually.

“So, what’s the reason for the visit?” said Y/N trying to act cool in front of her 4 grid-dad.

“Humm…You don’t remember last night, do you?” Oscar asked.

“Euuh no …?” She responded.

“Well, we have a little explanation to do when everyone wakes up” Oscar sighed.

Max stood up and entered the living room to shout, “EVERYONE WAKES UP NOW!” The mass of teen made a groaning sound, some of them complaining about their head. There was also some confusion like Abbi and Dorianne who were looking at each other, not understanding the how and why they were like this. Same for Kimi and Ollie. After a couple minutes, the other older driver entered the room and told everyone to sit and listen to them.

“You kids are fucking mental; you should definitely know that! Before we start scolding each of you, do you actually remember what happened yesterday?” Charles was endorsing his role as the principal grid-dad of those kids.

“I remember that we met up here, we drank maybe one or two beers then we went to the bar.” said Kimi, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, and Y/N picked up a worksite cone and put it on her head.” Gaby completed.

“I remember something about Ollie and Kimi, and Abbi and Dorianne, like they kissed or something like that” Arvid said earning some weird looks from the four.

Bianca finished their story and added “I remember Y/N got stuck on a tree, we called Oscar to help but Paul got her back before he arrived.”

“Well we have a base to work on” Max said pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s actually not that bad, I thought they would black out like completely.” said Lewis.

“So kids, you all got wasted at the bar and started doing random shit, like sitting on rooftops, stealing shopping carts, scooters and you also did some private things, you should check your insta especially Bianca and Y/N” Charles resumed the whole night and let all the teens check on their insta and realized all the things they did while he decided with the others grid-dads to post something to try to peace the situation.

<3

Charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 2 others

Charles_leclerc why did we have to adopt that many teens?

Tagged yourusername, paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 7 others

Olliebearman  we’re sorry dad 😖🥺

            Yourusername speak for yourself

User8 the dads regretting their choice 🤣😭

Paularon_ it hurts but it was amazing

User7 The Bearnelli and PaulY/N pic 🥹

Dinobeganovic_ never let me have alcohol ever again

            Maya_weug same

            Gabrieleminiofficial same

____

well that's it ! I'm kinda proud of this, i hope you're gonna love this as much as me ! byye :)

[cailinsblog]

Pumpkins, Giggles, and Glowing Hearts-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

This one is long and super cute please repost

The crisp fall air filled the backyard as golden leaves gently fell from the trees, coating the ground with a soft, colorful carpet. The sun had begun to set, casting an orange glow across the yard where Nico, Y/N, and their two-year-old daughter, Lilly, were preparing to carve pumpkins. The warmth of autumn surrounded them, and the smell of cinnamon and apples lingered from the nearby candles lit on the porch.

Lilly, dressed in her favorite cozy sweater with a pumpkin design, bounced excitedly in her tiny boots, her bright eyes scanning the array of pumpkins Nico had brought home. Her curiosity and joy were contagious. Y/N smiled warmly, glancing over at Nico, who was carefully setting up the carving tools on the picnic table. It was their family’s first pumpkin carving together, and the anticipation of making new memories filled Y/N's heart with joy.

Nico crouched down beside Lilly, his gentle nature always shining through when he was with his little girl. "Welchen Kürbis möchtest du, Liebling?" he asked, his voice soft as he let Lilly choose her pumpkin.

Lilly looked at the pumpkins with serious concentration before pointing at the biggest one with a wide grin. "Der da!" she giggled, her tiny finger tapping the pumpkin’s orange skin.

Nico chuckled, exchanging a look with Y/N. “Of course, she picks the biggest one,” he said in English, his Swiss-German accent still present even after years in the U.S. He lifted the pumpkin and placed it on the table.

Y/N joined them, kneeling beside Lilly. "Good choice, sweetie!" she praised, brushing a few stray curls out of Lilly's face. “Daddy will help you carve it, okay?”

Lilly nodded excitedly and clapped her hands, ready for the fun to begin. Nico grabbed a carving knife and handed Y/N a spoon to scoop out the pumpkin’s insides. Together, the three of them worked as a team—Lilly giggling as Y/N dramatically scooped out pumpkin guts, pretending they were "yucky," while Nico carefully carved out a face.

"Daddy’s making a funny face!" Lilly exclaimed, her giggles growing louder each time Nico made a silly expression as he concentrated on the carving.

Nico looked up, his face smeared with a bit of pumpkin. "Du meinst dieses Gesicht?" he asked, making an even goofier face, which sent Lilly into another round of giggles. Y/N laughed along, shaking her head at how effortlessly Nico could make their daughter laugh.

As the pumpkin’s face began to take shape, Lilly grew more excited, clapping her hands as she saw the eyes and mouth appear. “Looks like Daddy!” she said proudly, and Nico raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.

“Does it really?” he teased, looking at Y/N for support.

Y/N grinned, leaning in to kiss Nico on the cheek. “Maybe a little,” she teased, causing Nico to laugh.

Once they finished carving, Nico lit a candle and placed it inside the pumpkin. The soft glow illuminated the carved face, and Lilly's eyes widened in awe. She stood on her tiptoes, peering into the pumpkin. "It’s glowing!" she said, her voice filled with wonder.

Nico wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder as they watched Lilly admire the pumpkin. The warmth of the moment settled over them, the love they shared for their little family radiating stronger than the candle’s flickering light.

“I think we did a pretty good job, don’t you?” Nico whispered into Y/N’s ear, his breath tickling her neck.

Y/N leaned back into him, her heart swelling with contentment. “I think so too. And Lilly clearly loves it.”

Lilly spun around and ran into Nico’s arms, her tiny hands reaching up for him to pick her up. "Daddy, can we do another one?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

Nico scooped her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Maybe tomorrow, Liebling. Tonight, we can enjoy this one.”

As the evening settled in, the family sat on the porch, the carved pumpkin glowing beside them. Y/N leaned into Nico, their fingers intertwined, while Lilly sat content in Nico’s lap, pointing at the stars that slowly appeared in the night sky.

"Daddy, I love our pumpkin," Lilly said softly, resting her head against Nico’s chest.

“I love it too, Schatz,” Nico replied, his voice warm with affection. He glanced at Y/N, their eyes meeting in a shared moment of gratitude for the life they had built together.

Y/N smiled, brushing a hand through Lilly’s soft curls. "I think this is the perfect way to start our autumn traditions," she said softly.

Nico nodded, his arms tightening slightly around his family. "Every year, we’ll do this. Just the three of us." He looked down at Lilly, whose eyelids were beginning to droop as the excitement of the day finally caught up to her. “And maybe one day,” he added softly, "Lilly can help carve on her own."

Y/N chuckled, picturing their daughter growing up and taking on more of the tradition. “I’m sure she’ll be great at it,” she agreed.

As the stars dotted the sky and the soft glow of their pumpkin lit the night, Nico leaned down to kiss Y/N's temple, whispering in Swiss-German, "Ich liebe dich."

Y/N turned her face to meet his, smiling as she whispered back, "I love you too."

They sat in comfortable silence, the love between them as warm as the autumn air around them, grateful for the little moments that made life so beautifully complete.

[http-finnick]

𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: a drabble on you making cookies with your whiny baby and almost as whiny husband

"mwah, mwah, mwah!" you kissed your baby's cheeks as she sits neatly on the counter, she giggles and you stand with a hand on your hip watching as your grin stands prominent

you twirl in your soft homey dress to grab a wooden spoon to distract your little girl with, handing it to her as she looks at it with pride

"you look gorgeous" you turn to see finnick whose leaning on the doorway with a heavy smirk on his face

"glad you could make it, finally" you mumble the last part playfully as he walks over to you and places soft kisses on your lips

"mama!" she whines, jealous of her attention loss and you push finnick away to get back to your child

"if I cry like that will you love me?" he taunts, even doing a dramatic frown just to show you how sad he is

"now finnick, I don't remember having two children on my hands"

"we could if you'd-"

"finnick odair." you warn as he gets the cockiest grin on his lips, you roll your eyes and push your baby back into the back corner of the counter, far enough from the edge.

"here's your spatula and your mixing bowl" you smile while giving her wooden versions of your tools. she grins and you turn over to start the process

"finnick, start mashing the butter for me, please" you ask as he drags himself over to the separate counter next to her. pushing the fork into the warm butter as you hear a soft whine

"da-da" she pouts as she looks over to finnick before showing him her empty sad bowl

"oh I know, poor baby" he puts on a baby voice as he moves the bowl to her and has her help in the mushing with her wooden spoon

before long your placing the cookie dough onto the sheeted pan as finnick bounces with her in the corner

"maybe I should try some, babe." he chimes in and you eye him

"tookie" she says sadly. now you know where she got her bribing and whininess from.

"mm, I'll think about when you guys have salmonella." you grin before placing the pan into the oven, and finnick goes off about how sharing is caring.

soon you are all around the table eating cookies as finnick talks about his day while feeding your little girl small broken-off pieces of the cookie and you can't help but want to reconsider his offer of another addition.

an: i love tooth-aching fluff and a calm life with husband finnick and the children sm<33

[bucknastysbabe]

himbo criston pls i need him

Thinkin’ with my— skills! • C.Cole

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Criston is really fucking stupid but good at stuff and things, the Peloton affirmations, shower sex, pnv!sex, he’s a puppy your honor, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, needy needy bb, malewife tendencies, short n sweet n dirty.

Taglist: @valeskafics @fairysluna @arcielee @sugarpoppss2, @lovelykhaleesiii @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @bambitas @moncherrii

You were awoken. On a Sunday morning. The morning where you got to sleep in. Sitting up and stretching, you listened to the commotion which awakened you. You flopped back down registering the sounds of the stupid expensive peloton your boyfriend-lover?-malewife Criston had to have.

It was a nice mixture of grunts and affirmations between him mumbling, “Fuck yes. I am good!”

You rolled onto your stomach, no, you weren’t going to go back to sleep. Why the fuck would he even leave the door open? Climbing out of bed you pulled on your sweatpants— it was either naked or underwear considering Criston was a fucking furnace.

Passing him by he waved with a smile, “Morning love!”

You grumbled “Don’t you have work, or headphones?”

Criston’s stupidly happy face fell a bit. He replied, “It’s my off day, and I forgot! Sorry!” You waved him off and went to make some cereal, then maybe watch your idiot man on a bike. He was only clad in some tiny shorts, might as well enjoy the glistening tan view.

Watching his thighs flex and medals clink across his delightfully hairy chest, you no longer held any qualms about dummy waking you up. Criston took note embarrassingly late and grinned, flexing like a goofball.

“Like what you see babe?”

You waved your spoon at him to laugh, “No talking, I’m just observing!” He pouted and returned to the set before he finished, shooting one more pitiful look, dark curls adorably plastered to his forehead. He bowed when you clapped, “Bravo, bravo Sir Criston of the Peloton!” There. Now he was happy.

Then he started coming toward you. All sweaty. Which would be different when he’s balls deep inside of you! You began to scramble away, hollering, “No, no, no you’ll stink!” You were enveloped into a sweaty body, fake retching and heaving. Ah, you were dropped. Ow you were dropped!

Criston looked puzzled as you did not puke. You glared up at him and complained, “I wasn’t actually puking dumbass!” Sometimes you wondered how he was a successful handyman in town who owned an entire business when he did things such as this. One time he bit into a fake apple— that sort of dumb, like he continued chewing before realizing. The brunette frowned, “Oh my bad. Sorry baby.”

Now you were back against sweaty body, heading toward the shower. Criston rumbled, “We both have to take a shower now. I got you good.” You chose to laugh along and not bring up the time you convinced him the Earth was flat. He was good with tools, everyone had their talents!

Regardless of IQ questioning, you were quite excited when he pressed you up against the glass of the shower, blindly reaching inside to turn the water on as he kissed and mouthed at your neck. The sound of the water began and Criston yanked down your panties and sweats, groaning softly.

You pulled off your bra, breathlessly questioning.

“Criston! Y-you just got done working out, ah right there baby, and you wanna fuck?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, big hands on your tits, thumbing at a peaked nipple. His long hair tickled at your shoulder, stubbled chin and soft lips nibbling at your neck. You gasped, reaching back to press him against your ass, groaning at that gorgeous cock hot and flushed.

“Fuck, love when you watch me, turns me on,” he rambled, managing to get a couple sloppy kisses from your mouth, still massaging at your chest. You panted back, “Love watching you handsome, c’mon, let’s get in the shower.”

Brown eyes blinked and he seemed to come out of a haze, dropping his tiny shorts and groaning when it slapped against his taught belly. You rasped, “C’mon stud, in the damn water, wash first.” He seemed to disagree with your plan but was shoved down to the bench anyways.

You weren’t going to ever miss a chance to feel up his godly body. Even if he got a little whiny about it. Whiny Criston was cute, scrunched nose and stupid little questions. Soaping up a rag you kissed his cute nose and began washing his upper body. God- you may have spent too much time on his chest, the man was squirming.

Criston complained, “C’mon baby, c’mooon.” Puppy eyes glanced at you. You shook your head to move down to the lower half— feet up to his most tender areas. You were pretty sure you had a mini-orgasm when you touched his cock and balls— the man gasping out and fucking his hips forward, pleading a bit.

“Just your hair left baby,” you cooed to another annoyed gasp of your name. Criston may fuck the shit out of you, but he always listened to commands. He complained again, “Come onnnnn, m’so hard, you look good.” His hands wrapped around your hips, one moving to paw at the flesh of your ass.

Ignoring him you shampooed dark curls, combing through them as he groped you. You cried out when the man’s lips covered your nipple, needily suckling. “F-fucking hell, I’m almost done!,” came your weak chiding. He merely looked up and smiled around your tit. Ushering the needy thing up you pushed him under the hot stream of water.

“You’re so whiny you know that?”

“You took too long, I wanna fuck my girl, like what if I got backed up?” Criston retorted.

Ugh. He made you throb. Even if he was fucking stupid.

Smoothing back his dark hair, Criston closed into your frame, shoving you back to the bench this time and dropping to his knees. Big hands kept you spread as your boyfriend kissed up trembling thighs. He lapped at your soaked cunt, moaning, then flicking his tongue against your clit.

Criston was good with his mouth. And hands. And cock. He hummed around your clit, fingers pumping you and dragging along the soft spot, gorgeous dark orbs watching your face. You couldn’t stop mewling and whining, legs wrapped around his broad shoulders. You had bitten your lip bloody to keep from wailing.

“Aaaah- oh Criston- fuck! M’close, mmmm!”

He only seemed to move faster, suckling at your clit, driving his fingers deeper, the sensation of stubble driving you wild. His other hand slid up your body, tanned hand encircling your throat and barely squeezing.

“Fucking shit!,” you wheezed before falling into a fit of whines and moans, seizing around his pretty face. Your belly tightened along with your back, riding out the orgasm on the man’s face. Criston had you so fucked out already it wasn’t much a chore to lift you up and onto his cock.

He groaned deeply, pressing your back against the wall, the warm warm cascading over you both. Criston’s thick fucking cock had you split open, the girth never changed. Somehow you were a sloppy mess every time. Didn’t matter. He grinned against your flushed cheek, mumbling, “S’tight baby, god, I love you.”

He held you in place, his flat chest rubbing against your tits, fucking up in powerful motions. You held your head back against the stone tile, panting, eyes locked with his own. “Criston, Criston, Criston,” you chanted softly, writhing. He whined through his nose, taking your lips in a desperate move, smashing his nose against your own.

You took his tongue and cock, rendered a shivering mess. But Criston had a lot of damn stamina, cock full and pulsing. Barreling it’s way through your tight walls, rubbing that spot near your cervix. You’d end up in tears most times when he abused that place, cumming so hard you were all snot and tears.

You kissed him back, gasping into warm lips, your pussy being thoroughly abused with loud smacks. Criston growled, slapping your ass, “Mine yeah? S’all mine. Whose cunt is this?” He smacked your ass again, demanding.

“Yours, all yours baby, Criston fuck!”

“That’s not my whole name.”

Fucking hell you could barely string together a sentence and he wanted his entire name? Criston continued, “There’s other Cristons, whose cunt is this?” Your eyes rolled back as he angled his hips again.

“Criston Cole, my pussy belongs to you!,” you gasped raggedly. He smirked and kissed your cheek, all smiley like he wasn’t rearranging internal organs. “Good girl,” he rasped, “You’re so pretty, love you.” You melted a bit, wrapping your arms tighter around tan neck, too strung out to properly kiss the sweetie.

He grunted, readjusting himself, friction now fiery against your cervix, your g-spot when he drug out. You cried helplessly, heaving and practically screaming in pleasure. Criston looked delighted, rambling, “Fuck baby, you’re, oh, uh, oh my god!” Sweet boy was hit or miss with dirty talk.

“Come on, cum on me baby, come on,” he pled, eyes watery now, hips twitching, showing the first sign he might be close. You nodded, blubbering in response, overbearing heat building upwards from your cunt, into your belly and frayed nerves. Criston took a swipe at your clit, puffy lips against your own, swallowing up your wail as you released onto his cock.

Criston’s hips stuttered at the rush of thickened cum around his cock, whining at you.

“Criston, ba-baaaby, you gonna cum in your pussy? It belongs to you,” you stammered out, overstimulated to the point of some cohesion? He whined again, excitement lacing his tone, “Yeah, yeah, keep talking!” You smirked a bit, mildly entertained regardless of scrambled cunt.

“Pretty booooy, my Criston, wan’ you to fill me up, stuff your pussy up. M’so empty!,” you goaded. His reaction was like a car crashing, hips colliding into you, eyes scrunched as he moaned long and loud, cock pumping load after load into your sore channel. Pretty tears gathered at the corner of dark eyes, him nuzzling into your face like the puppy he was.

He finished up with a soft noise, plopping you both down on the bench, resting his forehead on your shoulder— softening cock still deep inside of you. You were about to slide off before big hands held you in place. Criston stated, “No. If you stay here in the heat, it’s like the sperm’s home, my balls, therefore you’d be easier to knock up.”

“Criston.”

“What?,” he seemed confuddled you weren’t getting it.

“I’m on birth control.”

“Ugh. Right,” he muttered while sliding out. The sight of his cum slipping out of you seemed to please the idiot. You tried to hold back delirious laughter as he would get his ‘widdle feewings’ hurt. Kissing his sloped nose you cooed, “One day babes, don’t worry. Can we go cuddle or sleep or something now?”

He nodded, “Yeah babe, can we watch 300 again?”

Sigh.

“Yes Criston we can watch 300 again.”

[live-laugh-legolas]

It's spoopy month! How do the members of the fellowship carve their pumpkins, and how long does it take for Pippin's carving knife to get confiscated?

The fellowship pumpkin carving

Aragorn:

-He’s sort of a closeted crafter/artist

-He is humble with it but it always looks great

-He knows how to use a knife so it shouldn’t be too surprising

-Will only use one knife for the whole thing; doesn’t use any of the fancy tools

Legolas:

-He doesn’t quite understand the purpose but he is happy to learn other people’s traditions

-He spends a long time on it

-He’s annoyingly humble

-In the way that he is like “it could be better. I’m sure I’ll improve for next year”

-But then he turns his pumpkin around and it’s something like this bullshit

-Take your perfect elvish ass somewhere else Legolas

Gimli:

-Takes pumpkin carving very seriously

-And damn is it always a masterpiece

-The type to do carvings like it is stone or wood

-It is often reminiscent of those face carvings people do into trees

-He’s very proud of it; and he should be

Boromir:

-He always makes the exact same pumpkin every year

-And not scary because he doesn’t want to upset anyone

-Little Faramir didn’t like his scary pumpkin so he changed his design

-If it ain’t broke don’t fix it

-He’s more there to chat and have fun; he isn’t paying that much attention tbh

-Drinks ale while carving (please don’t handle knives when drinking)

Frodo:

-Keeps it simple but prefects what he does; no messy edges

-Although he is a horror fan he makes cute pumpkins

-I imagine he is a bigger fan of just fall activities rather than Halloween itself

-He actually may prefer to paint the pumpkins

Sam:

-Laser focused

-Mumbles to himself the whole time

-Keeps a bucket for the seeds because he will bake them later

-Makes a decent design but then forgets how carving works and accidentally carves off the whole thing

Merry:

-Makes the weirdest design he can

-Often does some sort of pop culture reference

-Will make pumpkin helmets

-He tries to convince Legolas that Elmo is some sort of deity and this is a religious pumpkin

Pippin:

-His favorite part is just carving out the pumpkin

-And throwing the guts around

-He gets right in there; why use a spoon when God gave you hands?

-He has pumpkin under his nails for days

-Always picks the biggest pumpkin he can find

-He gets bored quickly though so he ends up making a whole scene

Gandalf:

-Not a fan of the mess

-So he uses an assortment of tools to keep things clean and precise

-Although he probably only does a very small pumpkin and makes it very detailed

-He mostly enjoys watching the hobbits have fun while also making sure no one gets stabbed

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Btw I have your other request about the pottery in the works; I wanted to find photos for it but I am having a difficult time finding ones that fit so maybe I won’t add photos idk