#banana sugar content

[captainershad-blog]

Banana Nutrition Facts: Why should you have a banana every day?

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[cerise-on-top]

I just read "141 with an S/O who likes muscular people"

BUT! what if they have an S/O who loves to bake or loves cooking.

What if unit 141 follows a diet to keep those muscles and shape? Would they have the heart to tell their lover "no" when they offer some of the food/sweets they just make?

I think all of them would love your food a little too much to simply go on a diet, but some of them are more willing to say no than others! Besides, all of them would sometimes go to the gym together on their days off, just to catch up with each other and burn some unused energy! They're still some rowdy boys, even if Price doesn't always have the time to go to the gym with them!

TF141 with an S/O who Likes to Cook for Them

Price: While he may eat quite a lot, he doesn’t really eat very many desserts, so it’s not often he’d say yes to one of your delicious marble cakes. However, he can appreciate you cooking for him as much as you do. It’s lovely. He comes home from deployment, tired and hungry beyond compare, and there you usually are, making him the most delicious food imaginable, from simple spaghetti to roast pork. Whatever it is you make, he’ll eat it with a smile on his face. Though, from the get go, he’ll tell you that he doesn’t eat too many sweets. He’ll indulge in the occasional cookie, maybe eat a single, thin slice of pie, but that’s it. He’ll tell you no in a nice, polite and gentle way. Besides, considering how much he eats normally, it isn’t really surprising that there’s no space left for your delectable pain au chocolats. He will try something every once in a while, but he’ll usually say no, so staying fit isn’t really a concern for him in the first place. You’d need to continuously insist for him to eat your apple strudel for him to budge, but even then it’s just a tiny piece. He doesn’t particularly have a sweet tooth.

Gaz: He absolutely has a sweet tooth. There are phases where he will consume more croissants than what is probably healthy, and then there are phases where he won’t eat anything sweet at all, won’t even look at it. It all depends on how sick and tired he’s gotten of something like your macarons. Trust me, he will still eat your food like it’s his last meal, but will turn down any and all sweets you make. Gaz does go to the gym fairly often, to keep in shape and maybe grow just a bit stronger as well, despite being rather strong already. You suspect that he sometimes stops eating your sweets because he may have gained weight, but he never confirms or denies this, he just tells you that he needs a break. But, as mentioned already, he can never get enough of your food, even if he’s just eating normal portions for someone his size. That’s why there’s always room for dessert in his stomach. But sometimes he’s content with just eating a banana or a tangerine. It doesn’t always have to be processed sugar, even if he adores your mochis as well. He can cook very well himself, but if you’re always eager to cook for him, then he will simply help you out.

Ghost: Eats a lot, eats sweets every once in a while, it’s as simple as that. He loves you, so he will even eat more sweets just for you, even if he won’t usually eat them as often. Your food is the best out there, and so your cupcakes have a special place in his heart as well. While he won’t dig in whenever you make a batch, you can see him steal one or two from the tray when he thinks you aren’t looking and, for humor reasons, blames it on Soap, regardless of whether he was even here or not. While he may not be a fast eater, he likes to savor every bite of what you made, he eats a mountain of food. When he realizes he has put on some weight, he will call up Soap and Gaz and train with them until the weight is gone. While he has a hard time saying no to you, he tries his best to not eat too much French toast when you make it. He needs to stay fit as a lieutenant, and thus he will softly refuse, or simply eat way smaller portions of sweets than he normally would. But you’d need to pry your home-made ravioli from his cold, dead hands since he loves those so much.

Soap: As mentioned in another ask, this man can eat literal trash and he won’t put on weight, he was blessed genetically in that regard. Likes sweets a lot, so he has no shame about stealing some of your braided easter bread while it’s still cooling down. He can usually be found chewing something, when it’s not your food, it’s some gum he bought. He likes the feeling of having something in his mouth he can bite down on. While he doesn’t eat as much food as, say, Price, he actually prefers to steal the food from your plate, he eats about as many sweets as Gaz does during the prime of his sweet phases. Not per day, he doesn’t love apple cake and the likes that much, but it’s quite a lot. Fortunately, he does train all of it off by going to the gym whenever he can. He does take Gaz along with him during those times, Ghost sometimes as well. While he does goof around with Gaz when he can, he does take his training fairly seriously more often than not. You can make him just about any food and he’ll enjoy it, but he does prefer savory foods, such as roasted chicken. Don’t make his food too spicy, though. He’s very white and can’t eat it otherwise.

[luveline]

Hii

Whenever you have time could you please do more single dad!Spencer. It’s just too cute and it really warms my heart how you write it.

tysm ♡ dad!spencer and his daughter amanda find their reunion unexpectedly interrupted when you need a place to stay the night. fem!reader, 3.4k

Spencer doesn't mind how tactile Amanda is. If anything, he loves it, content to have her sitting in his lap or on his hip, anywhere he goes and anywhere she wants to be. He tries to get in as much affectionate time with her as he can when he's home to make up for his days away. 

He doesn't like missing her, but he loves coming home. Amy sits on his stomach while Spencer lays on the couch, using his thighs as a backboard while they both fail to pay attention to the kids cartoons on their TV. 

"Were you good for Mrs. Gomorrah?" he asks, though he knows she was. He had to live through the agony that was teaching Mrs. Gomorrah how to text on a cell phone he bought for her years ago, but it was worth it to get those incremental updates that he relies on every day to get to the next without catching a flight home.

Amy had pizza 

Amy misses you. She said she is kissing you through my phone

Wants a new dress for school party tonight, emergency money OK to use? said she loves you 

Aaskkk k k o 

Sorry, accidentally texted you, Amanda made dinner tonight [photo]

The text messages help being far away feel less like torture. Spencer loves his job but he wonders if he should love it less, sometimes, when Mrs. Gomorrah remembers how to send photos, or when he can make it back to the hotel before bed time and call Amy.

But here she is in the flesh. Spencer doesn't worry about work when she's holding his hand. 

"I was good," she confirms, wiping hair from her face with a blue sleeve. She's in her pyjamas at three thirty. Spencer's in his matching set, blue long sleeve t-shirts with two dogs —a grown up and a puppy, seemingly a dad dog and his daughter— on the shirt and miniature dogs on the pants. "Promise. We did fruit kebabs last night." 

Spencer saw photos, but he still says, "Yeah? What fruits did you have? You know, strawberries will be extra yummy again soon because they're back in season." 

"We had strawberries, and bananas, and the green one, kiwi." She puts one of her feet up on his chest. He makes wide eyes at it to hear her giggle. "And with chocolate and maple syrup, it was really yummy." 

"We should make Tanghulu." 

This is a new word for Amy. "Tanghulu?" 

"It started with a berry called Chinese hawthorn, but now people use lots of different fruits. You make a fruit kebab, but instead of chocolate, you dip the fruit into hot sugar and it goes hard as it cools like rock candy, and you have good strong teeth, so you could eat it no problem." 

"It turns the fruit into candy?" she asks, wiggling her toes. 

"Kind of." Spencer covers her foot with his hand unthinkingly. She looks tired already though it's only the afternoon. She gets very tired when Spencer comes home, like she'd been waiting. "Do you want to have a nap with me, sweetpea?" 

"No, I don't think so."

Spencer made a mistake when she was younger. He thought leaving while she was sleeping would make it easier to say goodbye. It was for him, but Amy didn't sleep or eat right for days, and Spencer had to come home before the case was over to stop her from making herself sick. They've worked on it, Spencer never ever leaves without saying goodbye, but she still gets scared to sleep when they're together sometimes. 

He ushers her forward. "Come here," he says, "quick, give me a hug." She flops forward and Spencer arranges her into a cuddle, hand against her hair, his nose pressed to her forehead. "I missed you." 

"Missed you more," she says. 

"Not true. I missed you so much." 

"Don't go away again for a day," she says. 

"I'm staying home for a whole week. Maybe longer, okay? But I promise you, seven whole days no matter what." And he means it. The only thing that could change his mind is a mass murder situation, but otherwise, they'll have to make it work without him. He hates to say that kind of thing, but he has to say it, because Amy is his first priority. 

She relaxes into his arms. "Okay." 

His phone rings, because of course it does. Amy frowns her displeasure with tears shining silver in her eyes. Spencer shakes his head at her, "I'm not going, Ames. I promised. I won't answer anybody, this week is just going to be me and you." 

She glares at the phone and rests her chubby cheek on his chest. Spencer wonders if it's uncomfortable considering his lack of padding and sits up with an arm behind her seatbelting her to his front. "Let's go watch TV in bed." 

Her hands grab at the back of his shirt. "Bring your phone, dad," she says. 

Spencer kisses the side of her head. "No, I told you already, I'm not going." 

"What if Mrs. Gomorrah wants to come for dinner?" she asks, her voice smaller, sleepy. She rubs her face into his front. 

It's a good point. Spencer picks up his phone to check if it was her and frowns at the missed call. It's you. You've texted him too. 

"It's Y/N," he says. 

Amy knows you because whenever he's had to bring her with him (not often, but occasionally on regular work days when there's school reset days), you're very, very kind to her. You're not sure of yourself around kids but it doesn't matter, you let Amy sit with you if she wants to and you always talk to her with care, offer her snacks, anything that you can share. 

It's why he calls you back. That, and you're a nice friend. 

— 

You're feeling about as ashamed and sheepish as a girl can be as you take the elevator up to Spencer's floor. You don't want to impose on anybody, but you'd rather have died than ask Hotch, JJ's taking a vacation in Santa Monica, Penelope's on a conference with Kevin, Emily chose to use her week on an undisclosed trip, and Morgan was similarly off the radar. 

And you know Spencer has Amanda, you know they've been apart for longer than they've been together this month, and you hate interrupting their time together, but… you couldn't stay home no matter how badly you wanted to. Stupid landlord. Stupid cockroaches and stupid fumigation tents.

You carry your go bag with nothing but a week's worth of dirty clothes and your wallet. Your phone is about to die and you'd really wanted, more than anything, to crawl into bed and sleep the daytime away. 

You've never been to Spencer's apartment despite knowing him well, and liking him more. You knock on the door, apartment 305B. You're dead on your feet at this point, exhausted by the jet ride home, the commute to your apartment, the subsequent ten minutes spent crying on the sidewalk, and the next half hour debating if you could bother Spencer. Maybe you should've got a hotel, but it was already getting late and you just needed something familiar. Selfishly, you needed someone you knew after such a shitty case. 

"Hello," Spencer says, opening the door with a familiar girl held in his arms, "don't mind my jacket." 

Amy's clearly sleeping, tiny snores echoing from near his neck. It's cute, but it makes you feel much worse. "I'm sorry–" 

He doesn't let you apologise, "Are you kidding? What were you gonna do? We're excited to have you." He's kind of talking to you like Amy's still awake, enthusiastic whisper-shouting as he pulls you inside. 

"It's just for tonight, I promise. They said I'll be able to  back in by evening tomorrow," you say, holding your bag to your chest. You blink at him as you follow him to the kitchen. "Are you wearing matching pyjamas?" 

"You came over last minute!" he defends with a laugh. 

Spencer opens his hand for your bag and puts it behind a steaming bowl of soup. "Oh, were you guys eating dinner?" you ask. 

"No, that's for you. I'm gonna put Amy in bed and then I can do your laundry. Did you need a hug?" 

"What?" 

Spencer smiles at you. "I thought maybe you're having a bad day." He offers his empty arm and you don't know how to say no, don't want to, careful not to bump into Amy as you curl your arm behind his back. "We're happy to have you. You could stay all week and that would be fine. Did they really give you no warning?" 

"I called my landlord and he laughed and then kind of got quiet. I think he forgets that I live there." 

Spencer pulls away and puts a hand on Amy's back. She's very slight like Spencer but if she were any older he'd struggle to carry her for as long as he has. You can see the fatigue trembling in his left arm. "It's not legal for him to leave you with nowhere to stay, and without any notice. You could ask Hotch–" 

"It's okay." You gesture to Amy's face. "She's getting so big." 

"And heavy. Be back in a few. Eat on the couch if you want to." 

You wouldn't. Spencer takes Amy into one room off of the main room, and then comes back to grab your laundry before disappearing into another. His apartment is a fun but odd layout, the door leading into a living room slash kitchen with a dining table, then opening out left and right, bedrooms toward the back of the apartment and a bathroom behind. It reminds you of a flower, that central hub of life and the petals curling outward. 

You pick up your spoon cautiously. He definitely said the food was for you, but it's so strange to be greeted with a meal, you can't remember the last time someone made sure you had something to eat. 

Spencer doesn't attract your attention until he's pulling up a chair next to you with two glasses set on the table. "I put your pyjamas on quick wash. And your, uh, your grey bag." 

Your grey bag is a little net bag full of delicates. You try to be adult about it, but it's so super awkward that you end up laughing aloud, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. I just put the entire bag in, like, intact." 

You believe that, but you infer from the tightness of his voice that he's worried you'll think he's weird. Honestly, he's just nice, even if it's awkward. Everybody wears underwear. "That's what it's for," you say. 

"Do you think they make those in a bigger size? Amy's vests get tangled sometimes because the straps are skinny, that would be useful." 

"I'm sure they do," you say, toying with your spoon. "I… really don't know how to say thank you. I know we're friends, but it's different. To let me stay."

"When I was a kid I didn't have many friends. By high school I didn't have one. So I never got to have sleepovers until Amanda. And she's my best friend, but she's six, so…" 

You both laugh suddenly, beaming at one another in your wrinkled, mismatched clothes. 

You finish your meal through lighthearted conversation. Spencer takes your dish for the sink and you both move to the couch to watch TV. 

Clifford the Big Red Dog plays on mute. "I know you're thrilled to watch something this intellectually tantalising, but maybe we should watch a movie. There's a guide under the cushion," Spencer says. 

You dig for the guide but wherever he thinks it is, it isn't. 

"Doesn't matter. Mrs. Gomorrah will have one, I'll take her some dinner at the same time. Would you keep your ear on Amy? She might wake up."

He makes a tray for Mrs. Gomorrah, a neighbour and good friend of his. You've met her once when she brought Amy into the office, an Italian-American woman who's black and silver hair bounced when she talked. Beside his mother living in a sanitarium in Nevada, and his small daughter, Mrs. Gomorrah is Spencer's only family. He treats her accordingly. 

The washing machine starts to beep a few minutes after he's left. You spring from the couch and track down his washer and dryer, transferring your damp wash into the dryer and frowning at the machine's strange settings.

"Daddy?" a small voice calls. Sharper, unhappy, "Daddy?" 

"Amy!" you say, moving from your crouch to stand in the doorway. "Hi, honey! Your dad just went to give Mrs. Gomorrah some dinner." 

Amy squints at you. "Miss Y/N?" 

"Hi," you say tentatively. "My house is kind of broken for a bit and I asked your dad if I can stay the night." You bend to meet her eyes properly. "Would that be okay with you?" 

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "Yeah, please stay. Daddy's friends never come over." 

"Did you need something, honey? I can help." 

"No… You're sure he's at Mrs. Gomorrah's?" 

"Definitely one hundred percent positive. He can't go to work without me, can he?" 

Amy shrugs little shoulders. "I guess not." 

You can't help laughing at her. With the sound of the dryer bumping behind you, you meet Amy near the dining table and touch her shoulder gently to prompt her toward the couch. She jumps up onto the seat with the most cushions and you sit beside her. You and Spencer never managed to pick a movie, so the kids channel still plays on mute. 

"How do you turn it up?" you ask, offering her the remote hopelessly. 

Amy sidles against your side and points. You click the small white speaker button, greeted by the barks of another episode of Clifford. 

"Is this one okay?" you ask. 

"I love Clifford."

It can't be two minutes before she rests her head against your arm, her hand locking over the crook of your elbow. 

You're not sure what to do. She's Spencer's kid, so she probably does. "Do you want a cuddle?" you ask her. You'd be happy to give her one, but you don't know what's okay with her. 

"Please." 

You hang your arm across her shoulders and behind her back, stroking a tentative and short line into her arm, just once. "These are nice pyjamas, Amy. I saw your dad has the same ones." They're soft under your arm. Her hair brushes your wrist as she turns her head to crinkle her nose at you. 

"Thank you. Me and dad have all matching pyjamas," she says proudly. 

"All?" 

"Well, maybe not all. But lots." 

She hums and shuffles closer to your chest. It felt odd at first —although Amy has sat in your lap at your desk at work, and even given you a hug on her birthday to say thank you for the books and candies, you're not used to children or the things that they want. But it feels less foreign the longer she sits there, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time that day. 

Spencer comes back with a shiny TV Guide Magazine and a bundle of Amy's clothes under his arm. His eyes light up as her head peeks over the back of the couch. 

"Sorry, I was just at Mrs. Gomorrah's," he says, quickly putting everything down to take her into his arms. 

"I know," Amy says into his shirt. 

He kisses her head. You almost miss it, the affection quiet and swift. "Was your nap okay? Or do you need another one?" 

"Dad! Y/N's here." 

"Y/N doesn't care that you take naps, she takes naps too." Snoozing up against his shoulder with drool running down your chin. 

"No, I can't sleep because we're having a slumber party!" 

"We are?" he asks. 

"But she needs matching jammies." 

"Well, I don't have anything matching, but it won't be long for all my clothes to dry. I can wear jammies, then, at least," you assure her, sending Spencer a squinting smile that says, She's the cutest thing on planet Earth. 

He smiles back, as if to say, She really is. "Maybe Y/N wants a nap." 

Amy's concern lands on you. She climbs out of Spencer's arms, pressing her hand to your shoulder. "Please don't nap, I want to play games." 

"I'll play games, babe," you say. "Any game you want." 

"Yes! And, and maybe we can make, um–" Puzzled, Amy quirks her mouth into a frown and bounds back to Spencer. He rounds the couch and leans down at her gesturing. "What's it called, the fruit candy?" she whispers.

"From earlier?" he whispers back. "It's tanghulu. Tang-who-loo." 

She whispers a sweet thank you, spinning on the spot with her hands held behind her back. "We can make tanghulu, it's fruit kebabs turned to candy! Do you want to?"

Spencer smooths her hair back from her face. "You don't have to," he mouths, already squeezing her arm like he's prepared to talk her down. 

"Well, if it's okay with your dad I'd love to."

She gasps happily, jumping down off the sofa to race into the bathroom. "I'll wash my hands!" 

Spencer snorts and sits on the couch arm. "Notice how she didn't even ask me?" 

"You know that's a good thing." Spencer's probably read every parenting book there is. "She's so smart, Spencer. So smart, it's incredible. You're amazing." 

He scratches the collar of his sleep shirt, his curls moving as though woken by a gentle breeze as he nods to one side, "She shows some signs of an eidetic memory. Not like mine, but most children who have eidetic memories don't have them like I do. I can't take the credit for that, you know, beyond genetics." 

"Of course you can, someone had to teach her these things for her to remember them. You're never as nice to yourself as you should be, Spence. Everybody knows you're a great dad." You slouch back into the couch. "And I'm not just saying that because you're letting me stay for free." 

"There's no version of this situation where I would ever charge you. Thank you, Y/N. Having her by myself has been hard– it's hard. She's easy and I love her and she's better for me than she probably should be." He winces, his talking rushed, like he's listing statistics. "I haven't really been by myself. Mrs. Gomorrah. The team. We've known each other for a year but you act like Amy's family whenever you see her, and that means a lot to me. That's why I'm glad you called. You can always call me if you need help." 

"You can always call me," you murmur back. 

Spencer bumps your thigh with his knuckles. "I'm glad we're friends. Are you sure you're not too tired? Tanghulu isn't easy if you've never made it." 

"Says who?" 

"East Asian Eating, issue 78. We have to find the sugar, water, glucose syrup sweet spot or the candy doesn't harden."

"We can do it. You're the smartest guy I know, and I've been known to be resourceful. Plus, we have a world class assistant." 

Spencer stands up and offers you his hand to help you come with him, his fingers brushing yours for a moment that seems to stretch for minutes. "Just curious," he says softly, to your heart's clear delight, "when was your last check up at the dentist?" 

Right. He isn't about to tell you something you want to hear. This is Spencer —you should've guessed an odd question was on the horizon. 

"I'll have to think about it," you say.  

Amy bounds out of the bathroom and paints a trail of water droplets from the table to the kitchen. "He thinks you have weak teeth!" she explains. 

"That is not what I think." 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 35

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: we got that xmas hangover.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You get to the bottom of your glass before you’re even done your sides. You pick at the white meat and smear it into the puddle of gravy that floods the plate. Each bite is better than the last, easing that tenuous knot in your stomach. You haven’t eaten like this in weeks.

“More wine?” Steve offers as he grabs the bottle again, topping up his own glass before gesturing to your own.

Andy clears his throat as you look up. For a moment, there was only you and the plate. A soft fog limns the edges of your vision and dampens your worries. You peek around as Amber leans in from your other side.

“I’ll take some more if there’s enough,” Amber shifts her glass over, a mouthful still in the belly, “it’s so good. I’ll have to take a picture of the label.”

Her arm touches yours. She’s giving you permission, more so encouraging you. Is it so bad to enjoy yourself? Even Andy said today is special. A little bit of wine isn’t so bad. You barely feel any different.

“Sure, I’ll… I’ll have a bit more, please.”

Andy sniffs but you refuse to look at him again. You caught the glint of his disapproval before. He’s never happy with anything you do unless it’s… that. Steve pours the golden wine into your glass, then Amber’s, only a small amount left in the bottom as he sets the bottle down.

You chew on a gristly portion of meat, the clink of cutlery filling the strained silence. Amber sighs and takes a drink, carefully placing the flat base of her glass on the table. She swallow as stirs her mashed potatoes.

“So, you said you were almost done your painting?” She begins, “I’ll have to check it out after dinner.”

“Mm,” Andy grumbles, “garage gets pretty cold this time of year.”

“I’ll put a coat on,” Amber shrugs, “I’d love to see what you’ve been working on. You know I always love your art. Actually…” you can tell she’s rambling, out of nervousness, but more to fill the lull, “I was hoping you might make me something, if you have the time.”

“I could…” you begin.

“She can give you a quote,” Andy intones curtly. Your eyes flick over to him, surprised. “Can’t make much off a hobby.”

“Oh, of course, I wouldn’t presume,” Amber says, “materials plus work.”

“I hate to overstep but I’d love to have a look as well,” Steve says.

Your eyes round and you nod, cheeks hot at the prospect of showing them. Your work is always so personal and this piece feels even more so. Your first major commission and it’s almost done. It’s a real accomplishment, how did you not see that before?

“Sure,” you gulp.

“After the banana pudding of course,” Amber insists, “save some room, bub.”

You smile as your stomach squeezes tight. If you eat much more, you won’t have room for dessert. You reach for your glass to wash down the stuffing. The wine makes you feel hollow, it gives you room for more.

“Lot of sugar,” Andy comments.

“It’s Thanksgiving,” Amber shrugs, “what’s a few extra calories? Besides, it's tradition.”

“Your tradition,” Andy snips.

“Well, if you don’t want any, more for us, right, bub?” She nudges you gently with her elbow.

You nod, “it’s my favourite.”

“Bub?” Andy scoffs, “she’s an adult.”

Amber sits back sharply and hovers her fork over her plate. She stares at Andy as he glares back. Tension roils between them.

“And I’m so proud of her,” her words drip with venom, "she’s come so far. Steve,” she looks at the therapist as he watches with arched brows, “thank you so much for all you’ve done for my sister. I see how far she’s come.”

“She’s a strong woman,” Steve leans on an elbow and lifts his glass, “she’s doing all the heavy lifting.”

Your chest flutters as you kick your legs in giddiness. The smile he aims at you takes your breath away. It feels good to have someone proud of you, but him? It’s amazing. You feel like you could do anything, that he truly believes that you can.

“Thanks,” you squeak and take another drink. 

Andy huffs and sits back. Your gaze meets his as you swallow and pull the crystal rim away from your lip. You lick away the glisten of wine as he watches you. Your glee quickly dissipates as the heat of the alcohol mingles with the blaze of his chagrin. You’re almost annoyed by it. 

Why can’t he just be happy? Everyone else is.

🕊️

“Good job,” Amber preens as you slice fresh banana, “whipped cream is ready.”

She lines up the four clear bowls on the counter as she stands beside you. She pulls close the bowl of banana pudding and spoons it into each. You can smell the banana-ey goodness. It makes your wine-coated stomach growl.

“Then some cream,” she dollops some of the whipped cream onto each, “and then,” she slides a bowl your way, “you can add as many slices as you like.”

You arrange five slices on the first bowl; one in the center and four around the edge. She passes the next bowl and you do the same. She adds a spoon to each and spins one in admiration.

“Alright, we’ll get it on the tray,” she declares.

You nod, stifling a yawn. Your eyes are itchy as the large meal weighs down your stomach. You could nap right then and there. The wine’s glimmery effect doesn’t help your state as you feel slightly off kilter after two and a half glasses.

She loads up the rectangle tray with the bowls, then pulls over a round one. She places the full teapot beside the coffee urn, then stacks four cups on it, alongside some spoons, the sugar bowl, and a small jug of dairy.

“You got that,” she gestures to the pudding.

You grab the tray and slide it to the edge of the counter. Your fingers loop through the slots in the side and you lift it, focusing on keeping it all steady. You smile as Amber balances the tray of drinks.

“You feeling okay?” She asks.

“Yes,” you chirp, “I’m excited for the pudding.”

She laughs and shakes her head, “always were easy to please.”

She leads you into the front room. The football game buzzes on as Andy sits with his chin in his hand, elbow on the armrest, and Steve stands by the mantel, playing with the signed baseball. It’s stolidly silent beneath the drone of sport commentators.

“Coffee, tea,” Amber places her tray on the low table, “and my famous banana pudding. Well, she did most of the work.”

She turns and smiles at you. You look around as you falter. You just stare dumbly, unsure of what to do next.

Steve makes you flinch as he approaches, “may I?” He waves a hand towards the tray in your arms. You nod and he takes one with a thanks. “Mmm, smells and looks delicious.”

He backs away, cradling the bowl with one hand as he stirs the spoon around. You turn awkwardly and march over to Andy. You offer the tray and his dull gaze drifts to you. He sits back and lets his arm fall straight over the armrest.

“I’m full,” he says.

You wince and look down. Oh. You just stand there.

“Here,” Amber comes up and touches your elbow, “let me get this.”

You spin, startled, and the bowls slide over the tray. One flips over the edge as Amber catches the tray and the pudding splatters onto the carpet around your feet. You squeak and look down as your sister takes the tray from your grasp. She sets it by the coffee and tea as you step back and gape at the mess.

“Jesus…” Andy sighs as he leans forward to take in the mess.

“Accidents happen,” Amber takes your hand and guides you away from the pudding, “no big loss…” she gets down to scoop up the globs with her bare hand back into the bowl, “you’re not having any and nothing broke.”

You look between them. Andy scowls as Amber is unbothered. She gathers up the sticky mess and stands.

“I’ll go grab some paper towel,” she says.

“That’s gonna be hard to get out,” Andy glowers at the carpet.

“I can get it out,” Amber assures, “don’t let me ruin dessert.”

She strolls out and you hear her clinking in the kitchen. She appears again with the roll of paper towel and a bowl of water. She gets down and starts her tedious work of trying to sop up the remnants.

“You know, it didn’t get too deep,” Amber says as she works.

You watch her and sway, putting a heel back to keep yourself steady. You cover your mouth and swallow a burp. Your sister looks up at your looming figure.

“Have some pudding, bub.”

You murmur, something indiscernible. It’s hard to move as you feel Andy watching you. You know you messed up again. That he’s upset. He won’t eat the pudding and now you’ve gone and made a mess. 

You tremble as you feel an ache inside. For an instant, you feel smothered, as if you're being held down.

“It’s good,” Steve encourages as he shows half a banana slice on his spoon, “thanks, girls.”

You try to smile at him but can’t. Instead, you claim a bowl but your excitement is gone. You flop onto the couch, catching your spoon before it can tip over the edge, and rest the bowl in your lap. You’re going to be good and eat your pudding. You can’t get in trouble if you focus on that.

“She’s drunk,” Andy accuses as your spoon clacks loudly on the side of the bowl. 

“She’s fine,” Amber insists as she wets the paper towel, “really, she had two glasses, she’ll survive.”

“She doesn’t drink,” he retorts.

“What number is that?” She glances at the green bottle by his elbow, “three? Four? You said it yourself, she’s an adult.”

He snarls, “do you always come into people’s houses and argue with them?”

She tuts and shakes her head. She says nothing though you see her response clenched in her jaw. She continues her work, drying up the patch with a folded square of paper towel before standing. She disappears into the kitchen and returns. 

She grabs a bowl and sits between you and Andy. She leans over as you stir your pudding but don’t taste it. You’re embarrassed and your appetite is gone.

“Come on, bub, it’s your favourite,” she coaxes.

You sniffle, only then feeling the prick in your eyes. Andy’s right, you’re drunk. You don’t feel good. You’re dizzy and tired and you just want to hide.

“I’m sorry…” you babble.

“Aw, bub, it’s okay. You can always save it for later,” she assures you, “do you need some water?”

“I told you, you gave her too much wine–”

“Andrew,” Amber snaps as she whips her head around, “she’s fine. We’re fine. I got it.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. In my home,” Andy girds.

“Everyone, chill out,” Steve puts his empty bowl on the tray, “you’re both stressing her out. That’s all. She’s fine,” he nears the couch, “how about we get some fresh air, huh?”

Amber looks up at Steve, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t meaning to–”

“No, don’t be,” he assures as he gently takes the bowl from your hands, “it’s part of therapy. One of her exercises. She gets overstimulated.”

“Oh?” Amber looks at you and back to the doctor, “yeah, she… does.”

“I suggest the both of you take a few breaths as well,” he chuckles as he helps you stand, “we’ll be a couple minutes.” He touches your arm as you get to your feet, barely feeling your own body move, “hey, how about we get your coat on and go outside?”

Your eyes flick up and you nod blankly. You don’t really understand what he’s saying, you just know he wants to get you away from this. You wish they could just get along. You wish you didn’t cause all this trouble.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Amber says.

“You two,” Steve points at your sister then Andy, “talk this out.”

Silence, sweltering and suffocating pervades the room as the doctor leads you out. Only the television continues to blare as he stops you in the entryway and pulls a coat onto your shoulders. He gets down to lead your feet into your boots and then puts on his own. 

He opens the front door and shuffles you outside. The autumnal air sweeps around you and you pull the coat snug against the shiver that rolls through you. You look down as a swell of woodsy scent tickles your nostrils. It’s his coat. It’s loose on you but warm.

You look up at Steve as he stands, unaffected in the thick wool of his sweater. He puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, “tough day.”

“I… I am drunk,” you admit.

“That’s fine,” his hand trails down your arm, “you’re allowed to indulge, sweetheart. And a day like this, who wouldn’t?”

“He’s mad,” you say.

“Let him be.”

“But…”

“The both of them are too stubborn for their own good. They both love you but they can’t see past that. They shouldn’t be fighting for your love, they need to share it,” he runs his hand back up as you teethe your lip. He touches your cheek, the warmth of his fingertips making you shudder, “but I can’t blame them. You’re a special girl, who wouldn’t want all of you?”

You bat your lashes up at him. Huh? You don’t know what he means, but it feels good. Everything he says is just so wonderful.

He smiles at you, his fingertips dancing along your jaw. You gaze up at him, hypnotized by his deep blue eyes. In that moment, you feel drawn to him, magnetized by his touch. He steps closer and you quiver again. His eyes fall to your legs as you rub them together, the cold wind gusting up your short skirt.

“Oh, you must be freezing,” he drops his hand back to your shoulders, “you’d be much cozier in one of your cute little sweaters huh?”

You nod, dumbly. You can’t speak. You can only think about the weight of his large hand on his shoulder. You think about the vibrator in your drawer…

“Here, you need this,” he surprises you as he pulls you close, embracing you against the chill, “it’s amazing what a good hug can do.”

You stand stiff and stunned. His scent rises from his sweater and from the coat around your shoulders. You’re consumed by it and the heat rippling off of him. You let yourself sink into him, bending your arms slowly to hug him back. Something you’ve never really done with anyone but Amber.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” he coos as he rocks you, “you’re doing really good. Don’t let them ruin all your hard work.” He pets your head and nuzzles your hair, “you’re a very good girl,” he purrs, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Dr. Kemp,” you press your cheek against his chest and close your eyes, a smile dimpling into your cheeks.

“Alright, so you keep being good for me, sweetheart,” he strokes down the back of your neck, “when we go back in, you’re going to be strong, right?”

“Yes, doctor,” you murmur.

“Good girl,” he praises again, gently releasing you and leaving you even colder than before, “I know you care about both of them but remember, you can tell them no.” He drags his hand around you frame your face, “I think they need to hear it.” He drops his hand, turning his palm up as he turns halfway back to the door, “ready?”

You reach for his hand and squeeze it, facing the suburban facade, “I’m strong,” you repeat, “I’m gonna be good.”

[katebishopshands]

But I’m a Cheerleader ! ! Pt. 2

(Cheerleader!Kate Bishop/reader)

Pt. 1 here!!

»»-------------¤-------------««

Cheer camp continues, and the pursuit of the coveted Spirit Stick is on.

First impressions are everything, with it being the firsts official day of camp it is crucial that your team makes a good impression on the camp coaches and higher ups. And it appears that you’re not the only ones who want to make a good impression, the Archers are hot on your tail…

Maybe you’ll make some impressions you didn’t intend on when you came to camp this year?

(18+ CONTENT IN THIS PART)

»»-------------¤-------------««

“She HAS to sit her team right next to ours?” You growled into your oatmeal. It was a sad attempt at something nutritious. A brown banana covered in brown sugar and cinnamon frowned up at you.

You needed your strength today. First official day of camp meant back to basics. Perfecting benches, extensions, jumps and starting to learn the dance that you’d perform at the end of the week. The team needed to start out on a good foot so you could impress the camps coaches.

“ I mean it IS the dining hall..there’s not a ton of places to sit” Yelena looks up from her cereal to look at you and then in the direction where you were shooting lasers.

Kate Bishop sat her perfect self and her perfect team at the table across from your own. You could hear her loud mouth talking to America from where you sat.

Shoving a spoon of oatmeal in your mouth you muttered to yourself, “god does she ever shut up”

“Someone’s in a cranky mood…” Yelena sips on her coffee while side eyeing you.

You felt your eye twitch. Yes, you were in a cranky mood. Even after you had told Kate after your awkward confrontation yesterday to please be quiet at night, she hadn’t listened. Music was playing , loudly, in her room till at least two in the morning.

You couldn’t help but wonder last night in your sleep depraved state as you stared up at the dusty popcorn ceilings of your dorm, what Kate bishop wore to bed?

Was she a matching set girl? Or maybe a tank top and boxers type? Does she sleep with her hair up or maybe down?

You had never seen her with her hair down, maybe you’d get that chance this week. Static fuzz hit your stomach at the thought of taking Kate’s hair out of her tight ponytail.

“Yes, Yelena..I am cranky because my OTHER neighbor couldn’t shut the fu-“

“Ahem”, someone clears their throat above you. You both stop your conversation, looking up to see the last people you wanted to converse with at 7:45 in the morning. Kate Bishop and America Chavez.

Kate quirks a full eyebrow at you in your frazzled state. She looked utterly perfect to say the least. Full lips, dark brows and thick lashes. A spattering if beauty marks across her face Big blue eyes staring down at you. Part of you wanted to feel her gaze like this more often.

As quickly as the thought entered your head, you shoved it out. You had no time to be crushing on Kate Bishop.

Long black hair pulled into a ponytail, a matching purple and black workout set on. The sports bra exposing her muscular arms.

You salivated a little bit.

“We just wanted to say good luck this week!” America smiles at you. It’s honestly welcomed in comparison to the way Kate was eye fucking you.

You swallowed nervously and gave America a half pleasant smile.

“We don’t need your luck” Yelena spits at the other two captains. Kate looks unphased at the blonde, but America looks a bit shaken. She was a little younger than you guys, so it was obvious Yelenas little outburst had spooked her.

Kate puts her hand on Americas shoulder.

“Listen we just came here to wish you guys luck this week, we mean no hostility” Kate puts her hands up in a defensive manner,

“Just because we’re rivals doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly”.

She smiles at you, and America nods her head .

“Well…that’s very kind of you”, you say through grit teeth, your hand white knuckling the spoon you were holding.

You catch Coach Nat out of the corner of you eye. She’s watching the exchange unfold in front of her. First impressions start now, so if you want that spirit stick, it’s time to be the better captain. A team player if you will.

You smile at the two girls in front of you, your demeanor shifting from guarded to a sickly sweet confidence.

Sticking your hand out, and Kate meets you in the middle. You touch each other for the very first time, and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks between your hands.

“May the best team win this week”,

Kate shakes your hand, returning the smile. Once you let go, America turns to go back to her breakfast table,

“See you around..” Kate looks at you one last time, taking you in before she heads back to her table. Something mischievous glints in her eyes.

Goosebumps prick up on your arms.

Turning to Yelena, you look at her, bewildered at the exchange that had just occurred.

“God what the fuck “

»»-------------¤-------------««

“You look like shit” someone whispered behind you as you reached down towards your left leg while you stretched. Swiveling your head towards the voice and flipping your ponytail over your shoulder you were greeted to Kate Bishop standing to your right. Hands on her hips and head tilted. She smiled slightly at you.

“I don’t need you here right now, Bishop” you said standing up. You crossed your right arm across your chest, grabbing it with your left and stretching.

“I’m just pointing it out, looks like you could use some better sleep. Aren’t captains supposed to be the most prepared on the team?” She tilts her head to the opposite side, batting her dark lashes at you.

“I would’ve slept fine, but someone decided to have a party in their room” you deadpanned. Not believing she had the audacity to say shit to you, especially when she knew the reason you didn’t sleep well. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she did it on purpose.

“Damn, there was a party and I wasn’t invited? Lame” she laughs at herself before her eyes meet yours. You switch the arm you’re stretching. You’d hate to pull something during the first rotation of the day.

Kate had never paid this much attention to you before. A couple snotty words to each other, and dirty glances towards the other, sure. That was normal, but the level of taunting she was doing to you was unnatural for your usual dynamic.

You held her gaze, not wanting to back down.

“You look cold…I’d hate for you to pull something” you pout at her, crossing your arms in front of you. You wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine. She was the most insufferably cocky person you had met in your life. Girl thought she could talk your ear off for the entire warm up session before jumping into an hour and a half of choreography.

“Yknow..I am a little..”, she trails off, eyes locking on a stray piece of hair hanging in front of your face.

Kate goes to move the hair from your face, but you catch it before she can. Tucking the hair behind your ear, you glare at her. She leans into your ear,

“Maybe you can show me uh…some of your favorite ways to warm up?”

Kate backs up,searching your face. What she had said was, in theory, completely innocent. But it ignited something in your stomach. Your hands felt more clammy, your heartbeat raced. The heat in your face rose to your cheeks and ears. You KNEW Kate had a double meaning to her words.

Your fists clenched, suddenly you felt like you had a stick shoved up your ass with how upright and pissed off she made you feel.

You glanced around, checking to see if anyone had seen this whole interaction occur. Yelena, Coach Nat…hell even America or Clint Barton. You’d take anyone at this point.

No one seemed to pay attention to the rival captions standing at the front of the mat. Music played quietly, and teammates chattered as they stretched and warmed up. It was almost as if the two of you were in your own world. Where the only concerning thing was your bickering and how much you could piss each other off.

Kate smirks at you before she opens her mouth to speak again.

“I’m serious though, you’re good. I’d love to know how you got to be that good.”

Her shoulder brushes yours as she passes you, knocking you back a bit. She turns back towards your direction but continues walking.

“You know where to find me if you’re open to some private lessons..”

She turns. Black ponytail swinging behind her. Your eyes lingered in her figure. Purple leggings clinging to her fit frame. Back muscles exposed in her sports bra.

Your mouth felt dry. You needed water.

The rotation hadn’t even started and you felt like you had run a marathon.

Walking as quickly as possible, you made it to the bleachers where your water bottle sat. You sat down on one of the steps, raising the bottle to your lips. You started to chug almost as if you hadn’t had water in weeks.

What the fuck is Kate’s deal. Her confidence was intoxicating. Something about being around her made all will to be defensive die inside of you. She was able to run circles around you and you could do nothing about it.

“Whoa whoa, slow down. You’re gonna be sick!”

You look up, it’s Yelena. She’s taking a seat next to you, her brows furrowed in concern.

“ you look flushed? We haven’t even started??” She searches your face for an answer.

Her question makes you flush harder. She absolutely could not know Kate Bishop was the cause of this.

“Oh my god, are you sick? I can go get Natasha. She knows how the food here can just absolutely fu-“

“Lena I’m fine”

“Oh..”

She gives a skeptical look your way. Green eyes flashing with concern. You pull your water bottle away from your mouth, setting it back on the bench.

“I’m just hot, it’s really hot in here”

You stand, wiping your sweaty hands on your own leggings.

“It’s not that bad..

“Yelena.”

You cut her off, not sure if you’d be able to handle any more questioning from her. The blonde stands with you.

You adjust the bow sat in your hair, attempting to wipe Kate bishop from your head for the next hour and a half. You could analyze your interactions during passing time, but you needed to be focused.

“Now, let’s dance”

You started down the bleachers, Yelena in tow.

If you wanted to get that spirit stick, Kate Bishop couldn’t be distracting you. She never has distracted you, and she wasn’t going to start now, no matter how sweaty she made your palms.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The rest of the day was brutal. Existing on a college campus, with minimal AC in the middle of summer was quite honestly the worst thing ever. Well, next to seeing your team crumble under the pressure right in front of you.

Every you could’ve sworn you got worse. Dance was fine, and the tumbling portion was alright. But stunting was the worst you’ve ever seen it.

The amount of times you had to catch your flyer from falling just during the hour and a half rotation was insane.

You could’ve sworn coach Nat had never been so mad in her life.

Of course this was all under the every watchful eyes of The Archers and captain Kate Bishop herself.

You could feel her eyes on you all day, burning into the back of your skull.

“I think tomorrow will be our day, I have a good feeling.”

Yelena converses with you outside of your dorms. She’s trying to lift your spirits like the good friend that she is, but it’s not working.

“I’m just really worried…today was the worst I’ve seen us perform”

You bite your lip, anxiously playing with the hangnails that were around your nail beds.

“It’s only the first day, and the pressure is on this year, we’ll come back”. Yelena puts a hand on your shoulder, her green nail polish glinting in the dull lights of the hallway. She squeezes a little, smiling reassuringly at you.

Yelena was a little intense at times but she always knew how to make you feel better. After debriefing with Yelena, a shower was well needed.

You looked at your sad dorm room, your tie blanket on the flimsy mattress. Box fan tucked into the window, blowing a warm breeze into the room. Setting down your backpack, you begin to take your shoes off, socks leaving a sweat print on the linoleum flooring.

“Gross” you grimace looking down at it. Through the silence in your room, the sound of a bass filled beat caught your ear. You groaned, beginning to take your hair out of your ponytail.

You knew exactly where it was coming from. Kate Bishops stupid room. You gave a couple hard bangs on the wall, signaling to Kate that you wanted her to keep it down.

The music didn’t turn down. Taking a deep breath you continued to get ready for your shower, giving her another hour of music time before you went over there and bitched her out.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to see her again tonight. You had dealt with enough of her for the day and another ounce of Kate Bishop for the day might actually kill you.

Getting out of the shower you did your usual bedtime junk, brushing your hair, motioning your body up. The whole 9 yards. You needed it so bad after the day you had.

Kates music still blared as you got dressed, putting on a ratty competition T-shirt and some boxer shorts with little hearts on them.

You were too tired to bitch her out, deciding to get in bed instead of going next door to tell her to shut up.

Turning the lights off, you padded your way over to your bed, ready to let sleep overcome you.

You waited. And waited. Turning to your left. Turning to your right. Rinse and repeat. You even tried flipping the end of the bed your head was. Nothing.

The bass continued to shake the wall the bed was up against. You tried banging on the wall again. Nothing. Again, another bang to the wall and you were greeted to nothing in response.

You shoved your blankets down, sitting upright in bed and angrily standing up. Kate bishop was not ruining another night of sleep because she wanted to play her music. Hadn’t she ever heard of headphones??

You crossed the room, opening up your door and slamming it behind you. It was a quick turn over to Kate’s room, and before you knew it you were banging on her door.

The hall was quiet, as it should be. It was well past lights out. Most of the girls would probably be asleep by now. Except for Kate Bishop.

Your fist continued to meet Kates metal door. The beat of your pounds echoing in the otherwise silent hall. You were getting annoyed now, she had ignored your pounds on the wall and now she was ignoring your knocks on her door. All you wanted to do was go to sleep.

“Nice jammies” you hadn’t even noticed that the door had opened, you had been too caught up in your train of thought.

Kate stood infront of you. She was leaning against the door frame. Her hair was still up, but gone was her workout set.

A pair of loose black shorts hung low on her hips. The shorts were topped off with a matching tight black tank.

You scolded yourself for looking, Kate wasn’t wearing a bra. Pervert

You swallowed, hard.

“Shut up”

“Woah what did I do?”

Kate looked at you. She was annoyed, and you were too.

“You know exactly what you’re doing”

You took a step towards her, crossing your arms over your chest. It was cold in the hallway surprisingly. Your bare legs covering themselves in goosebumps.

“Listen, if you’re going to show up to my room at this hour of the night, I at least deserve some sort of explanation “ Kate tilted her head to the side, lightly poking her cheek with her tongue. You said nothing.

She had to know what she was doing. Her music didn’t pause when she opened the door. You could still hear the beat from where you stood.

“Turn your music off” you said flatly.

“I’m tired and I want to go to bed, turn it off” you were beyond pissed right now.

“Okay then go to bed” Kate snaps back at you. Her voice raised ever so slightly.

“I can’t with your fucking music this loud”. You jabbed your finger into her chest.

She stumbles backwards a little. “Oh my god will you calm down? It’s just music, it’s not that big of a deal” Kate looked just as pissed as you now. Her blue eyes staring daggers into you, her breathing a little elevated .

“Just some music? I couldn’t sleep last night because of you. “ you’re nearly yelling now

“My team, fell apart today because I felt like shit, and you kept fucking staring at me”

Fists balled into your sides, You began to blow up on the dark haired girl opposite of you.

Kate shakes her head a little, popping her jaw in annoyance.

“So I need you to shut the fuck up and just-“

“Jesus fucking Christ”

Kate rolls her eyes and grabs your wrist forcefully. You fight her a bit, trying to pull free of her grip. She quickly pulls you into her room, letting you stumble forward once she releases you. She slams the door behind her and then turns to face you.

“Could you be any louder? Both of our teams are trying to sleep and you’re out there yelling about some stupid music”

Once again, the audacity of this girl.

“Y’know, I was actually starting to like you today, but you’re nothing but a dick”

“The same goes for you” Kate crossed her arms, malice laced in her tone.

You’re standing chest to chest with her now. You’re able to smell her lavender chai perfume. Her chest rises and falls with the heavy breaths she’s taking.

“I actually think you’re a really good captain. You care about your team, and you and Yelena make a great duo.” Kate starts out. She’s got a different energy about her that you can’t put your finger on. That same static fuzz feeling you had from the first moment you saw each other yesterday invaded your stomach. She made you shiver.

“But dear god do you need to get the stick out of your ass. Maybe then your team would be halfway decent”

You saw red. You came over here to be civil, ask her to turn down her music. But now you’re stood in Kates room and she’s insulting your team.

You could’ve sworn your brain was short circuiting .So you did what was logical.

You kissed her.

You kissed Kate Bishop hard as fuck.

Your lips collided with hers, grabbing at the front of her tank top and pushing her back against the door. As soon as Kate’s back hit the door it was like something clicked in you.

You pulled away panting.

And Kate chased you. Kate Bishop chased your mouth to continue kissing you.

You pushed that thought away from your mind.

“I’m sorry I just..i don’t know what happened” your fists were still clutching the front of Kate’s shirt. She looks at you. Pupils blown, lips parted.

“Shut up” Kate gushes before diving back into you.

Her hands envelop your face. Callouses from stunting brushing your cheeks.

Kate kisses you like she needs you to breathe. Holding you impossibly close.

“I-“ you gasp in between kisses. You’re fighting for dominance in the kiss. Slowly but surely traveling down the small hallway that lead to the main room.

“Fucking hate you” you bite at Kate’s lip. Pulling her bottom lip a little you grin at her. She snorts, pushing you up against the nearest wall.

“You sure about that?” Kate leans into your ear. Her hands find your breasts. She squeezes them.

It feels so good. It feels so good and relieves a bit of the ache that had started growing in your shorts. You couldn’t take the cocky grin Kate had plastered on her pretty face.

You bit your lip, fighting the moans that are attempting to escape your throat.

“Such a tough team captain” Kate laughs as she continues to feel up your tits.

“Shut it” you grab her hands in an attempt to stop her movements.

“So tough all the time, don’t you want to let go?”

You do. You do want to let go. Especially when Kates fingers are reaching towards the bottom of your shirt.

“I can’t “ you shake your head as you feel her fingers lightly brush against your stomach.

“I think you can, pretty girl”

Kate thrusts her knee up into you. It meets your drenched core and you break. You break so easily under her influence.

“There we go” she pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it behind her shoulder.

“Fucking hell Kate”

“Tell me about it” she ogles you. Staring at your tits. She can help it, a finger goes in to tweak one of your nipples. Another moan from you.

Kate removes her knee from your cunt and urges you towards her bed. You move your mouth to her neck, latching on and plastering kisses down it. She reaches for her phone on the bed, and turns her music up.

“Can’t have anyone knowing we’re doing this, can we?” You moan at her words. Thinking about Yelena knowing Kate was groping at your tits right now was a little too arousing.

In a Kate drunk haze, you eagerly shove your hands down her shorts. Your fingers being met by a lack of underwear and her warmth.

“Holy shit” you whisper to yourself. She was soaked. Bickering with you had turned her on beyond belief.

Kate gives a whine and leans forward as your fingers meet her cunt. She rests her head on your shoulder.

“God don’t stop” she meets your eyes. Big blue eyes pleading for something, anything.

“Oh Katie …” you pout at her. A guttural moan comes from Kate as the nickname slips off your tongue. You’re able to manhandle Kate up against the creaky dorm bed.

Eagerly, you tear her shorts down, letting them pool around her ankles. And she lets you. She submits so easily to you.

“Where’s your ego now,huh?”

You kiss her cheek as your fingers find her clit. She has no words, the only noise leaving her mouth being a few airy moans. Rubbing circles on her clit, you return to her mouth.

She’s licking into your mouth, craving any attention she can get from you. Kates hips begin to buck into your hand as you begin to tease her hole with your fingers.

Kates hips begin to buck into your hand as you begin to tease her hole with your fingers.

“I’ve wanted this-“ she pants out

“Since our first cheer camp together” she locks eyes with you. Her knees are shaking as you’re able to put two fingers inside of her, thumb still lazily playing with her clit.

“When I..I.. accidentally did my full into you”

She smiles a little bit before she goes back in for a kiss. You kiss her back for a bit before pulling away again.

“You left me with a black eye for a week” you laugh at her as you increase the speed of your fingers. Kates eyebrows kit together.

She’s close. You can tell by the way she squeezes you and the sweat that forms around her hairline.

“What a bad girl” you whisper in her ear. And that’s what it takes. Kates knees give out a little as she finishes. A string of curses and your name leaving her lips. You continue to finger her throughout her aftershocks.

Once your fingers are pulled out, you put them into your mouth, sucking her release off of them. Kate catches her breath as she watches you.

“Fuck” she pants, sitting down on her bed. You bat your lashes at her a little, crawling towards her.

Kate kicks off her shorts and pulls her tank top off of her sweaty body. You were right for being such a pervert earlier. She’s gorgeous.

Abs on full display, perky tits right there for you to grab.

“I need you to ride me..like right now”

You’re pulling your own boxers off before she can finish her sentence. Once you’re hovering above her thigh, Kate’s strong hands grip your hips, forcefully shoving you down onto it.

She rocks with you, helping you set a brutal pace.

With all the teasing of the night, it’s going to be sooner or later before you bust.

Kate sits up as you grind your sticky cunt against her toned thigh. Her lips attaching themselves to one of your nipples.

You moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. Your hands planting themselves in her hair, yanking on the black locks.

You’re tired of the ponytail. You need to see her hair down. With a final pull to the actual hair tie, her hair is freed.

Her dark hair falls to her mid back in loose curls. She’s so gorgeous it’s annoying.

Kate delivers a bite to your nipple, pulling your attention from her hair.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” She smirks up at you, aggressively guiding your hips against her. The friction is delicious. Her thigh rubs perfectly against your swollen clit.

“Hm?” You respond. Too horny and caught up in the hopes of your release to register what she’s saying to you.

Kates sucks a hickey on the side of your tit.

“Fucking the rival captan? Getting the stick out of your ass?”

The dorm bed is hitting the wall, you can hear it and see it. The shaky wooden frame making a rhythmic beat out of your fucking. You pray to whatever god is listening that Kate’s music is loud enough to cover up the noise.

Before you know it that static fuzz feeling is taking over your whole body. Like you’re a child standing too close to an old TV.

“Kate shit..I’m close” you frantically rock your hips into her. You want your release so bad.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you” she punctuates her words with a squeeze to your hips.

“Jesus Christ.. “ you’re gushing all over her. You can feel your cum dripping down her thigh and your own .

Kate falls backwards, letting her head hit her pillow.

You’re sweaty and tired, and you smell like sex. You think about how you regret showering before you came over. But then again…you didn’t come over thinking you were going to fuck your rival in the first place.

Kate looks up at you, gently helping you remove yourselves from her thigh before she gently pats the limited space next to her. You unsurely lay down next to her, not sure if you should walk of shame your way back next door or stay.

You get your answer when Kate pulls her naked body flush against yours,arm wrapped around your waist.

Neither of you say anything, just listening to the other breathe.

You should be worried about your alarm set for 7 am in the room next door, or how you’re going to get out of the room in the morning without being caught, but you’re not.

The only thing in your head in the moment being “I just fucked Kate Bishop”.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Check out the playlist!! And stay tuned for more!!

-ET🏹

[zodiacs-web]

I hope the request are still open :p

Could we have the reaction of Nikola Tesla, Qin Shi Huang and Jack the Ripper if their partner surprised them with breakfast in bed?

(let's imagine that qin's couple got up earlier than him and all the palace servants, as if it was a custom for her to cook and eat together with qin since they both lived in zaho, when qin was still a hostage and she her only friend)

Good Morning

╰₊✧ Jack the Ripper/ Nikola Tesla/ Qin Shi Huang X Gn!Reader

╰₊✧ Synopsis: Surprising them with breakfast

╰₊✧ What's in the web: short but fluffy

Jack the Ripper

Smooth white hair turning golden as the sun jumps through the window, the sound of pots and pans clattering has the figure shuffling. A whisper of a groan leaves him as he slowly opens his eyes, a blurry figure walking from the door and walking over to him, giggles tickling him as he blinks.

Once his eyes finally adjust to his surroundings, all he sees is your shining face and the glorious sight of breakfast in front of him. Soft waffles with a golden brown syrup falling off the sides and earl gray tea riding through his senses.

He quickly sits up, a smile creeping up on him all while you're staring at him in content. He's speechless as you place the tray onto his lap, coming in to squish yourself against this shoulder, laying his head on top of yours in return.

Nikola Tesla

A summer filled with the mind running, a stomach so eager and a mind so homesick anyone - except you - couldn't fix the problem. Eyes widening after a restful night of sleeping, the dim room accompanying the man.

Then it arrived, the refreshing and blooming smell of homecooked food - heaven right in the comfort in his home. He quickly got up just in time to see you carrying a tray with a folded pancake with a drizzle of powdered sugar and bananas and a cup of hot coffee.

He was amazed by the way you were able to pull off the smell of his home. Despite the pancake not being from his specific region, his mind bloomed of his childhood. The softness of the pancake, the bittersweet taste of the coffee and the feeling of his family all together.

Qin Shi Huang

A quest in the night, a journey for the happiness of your husband, delicate night where only you are awake. Dancing with the pots and pans, waking the grumpy meat and the jumpy vegetables. A sing-a-long with the cooking book until all the ingredients are jumping with joy.

Soft tapping against the marble floor and gentle chatter of the bowls and plates. The jian bing somehow waking the emperor with it's lustful aroma. A small smile creeping up the man as the tray is placed upon his lap. The congee shimmering upon the rising sun and tea swaying against it's confines.

Though his wish to capture you and fill you with love is not granted, alas his stomach will be filled first. Only a small kiss is laid upon your cheeks before the meal is devoured. A lasting smile upon the emperors face always make the your heart bloom.

[merakiui]

༺♡༻ 𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉.

☆ welcome to the lunar love hotel, where bitter/sweet secrets are scattered amidst shimmering stardust! ☆

𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

☆ the lunar love hotel will be open and accepting guests from genshin impact and twisted wonderland throughout days 1-28 of february 2023. once the month of february has ended, the lunar love hotel will no longer be accepting guests.

☆ all guests will be written as +18. all orders will be nsfw (or sfw if specified) and x reader.

☆ for the convenience of our staff, please be patient and polite when checking in. additionally, please be specific with your order details from the menus listed below. if a reader’s gender is not specified, it will be written gender neutral.

☆ you may order two treats from each menu with up to three guests (separate or together). please make all distinctions clear when necessary.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　guest lists 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

genshin impact - lumine, aether, kaeya alberich, lisa minci, jean gunnhildr, rosaria, diluc ragnvindr, albedo, venti, eula lawrence, mona, beidou, ningguang, keqing, tartaglia, zhongli, ganyu, xiao, yelan, shenhe, kaedehara kazuha, kamisato ayaka, yoimiya, sangonomiya kokomi, thoma, gorou, arataki itto, yae miko, raiden shogun, shikanoin heizou, tighnari, cyno, candace, nilou, dehya, alhaitham, kaveh, kabukimono/scaramouche/wanderer, il dottore, colombina, sandrone, la signora, pantalone, il capitano, arlecchino.

twisted wonderland - riddle rosehearts, ace trappola, deuce spade, cater diamond, trey clover, leona kingscholar, jack howl, ruggie bucchi, azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, epel felmier, rook hunt, idia shroud, malleus draconia, silver, sebek zigvolt, lilia vanrouge, rollo flamm, neige leblanche, che’nya.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　miscellaneous menu 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

type of writing & dynamic.

☆ assorted macarons - headcanons

☆ layered cake - oneshot (more than 1k words)

☆ flower bouquet - ficlet (under 1k words)

☆ lacy lingerie - established relationship

☆ sparkling champagne - ex-lovers

☆ cherry wine - rivals/enemies

☆ strawberry ice cream - friends with benefits

☆ sweet lollipops - [insert your own dynamic]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　midnight menu　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

yandere/dark content.

☆ red velvet cupcakes - non-con

☆ lemon squares - dub-con

☆ sea salt caramels - drugging

☆ custard donuts - forced pregnancy/baby-trapping

☆ banana pudding - kidnapping

☆ red bean mochi - stalking

☆ chamomile tea - somnophilia

☆ sugar stars - [insert your own kink/scenario or a prompt from the morning menu]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　morning menu 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

non-yandere/fluffy content.

☆ pineapple parfait - honeymoon

☆ fruit smoothie - confession

☆ apple pancakes - date night

☆ cinnamon rolls - marriage proposal

☆ cream puffs - aftercare

☆ blueberry muffins - love letters from them to you

☆ coffee - meet-cute

☆ candy hearts - [insert your own prompt]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　lunar love hotel masterlist 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

☆ malleus draconia - flower bouquet, red velvet cupcakes, red bean mochi.

☆ tartaglia, kaedehara kazuha, azul ashengrotto - assorted macarons, sparkling champagne, red velvet cupcakes, red bean mochi.

☆ floyd leech - layered cake, sweet lollipops, candy hearts.

☆ jade leech - flower bouquet, sea salt caramels, sugar stars.

☆ rollo flamme - layered cake, red bean mochi, blueberry muffins.

☆ ruggie bucchi - flower bouquet, strawberry ice cream, cream puffs, fruit smoothie.

☆ rook hunt - flower bouquet, red bean mochi, banana pudding.

☆ vil schoenheit, jade leech, floyd leech - flower bouquet, custard donuts.

☆ malleus draconia & azul ashengrotto - assorted macarons, lacy lingerie, sea salt caramels, lemon squares.

☆ kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, azul ashengrotto - assorted macarons, sea salt caramels, chamomile tea, sugar stars.

☆ scaramouche - layered cake, sweet lollipops, lemon squares, sea salt caramels.

☆ idia shroud - flower bouquet, lemon squares, sugar stars.

☆ floyd leech - flower bouquet, cherry wine, red velvet cupcakes.

☆ alhaitham - layered cake, red velvet cupcakes.

☆ floyd leech & jade leech - flower bouquet, banana pudding, lemon squares.

☆ jade leech - flower bouquet, red velvet cupcakes, banana pudding.

☆ scaramouche - flower bouquet, strawberry ice cream, lemon squares, custard donuts.

☆ azul ashengrotto - flower bouquet, chamomile tea, lemon squares, fruit smoothie.

☆ floyd leech & jade leech - assorted macarons, lacy lingerie, sea salt caramels, pineapple parfait.

[drgenius-reid]

War and Peace, and Coffee

A/N: It's down to the wire but I just about managed to get something together for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute Challenge. Summary: Spencer finds himself meeting a lovely stranger in a coffee shop where they read together. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader  Category: Fluff Content Warnings: Use of Y/N. Word Count: 920

Spencer didn’t think he had ever seen someone more beautiful in his life. Even as she sat in the corner of the coffee shop, curled up on a chair with a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose, she looked adorable as she succumbed to the words in front of her. 

She read 1984 by George Orwell. Spencer could tell what book it was just from seeing a tiny piece of the cover that poked through her fingers. He noted how delicately she was holding the book, being careful as to not ruin the spine of it. 

On the small table in front of her, Spencer could see an untouched cup of coffee, a bookmark with a quote that he couldn’t figure out from where he stood, and a banana peel on a plate. He was intrigued by her. Even though he didn’t know why. 

The woman looked up from her book before Spencer could look away. Their eyes met and Spencer’s cheeks grew warm, embarrassment flooding over him at being caught watching her. He tipped his head forward towards her when she smiled softly at him, her eyes wandering back to the words that had pilfered her attention. 

Spencer walked up to the counter at the front of the coffee shop and ordered himself a black coffee with plenty of sugar, and an orange, paying for them before he headed to the bottom of the shop where a tall shelf sat, completely filled with books. He grabbed a copy of War and Peace and took a seat at the table next to the woman’s. 

‘You know you can always take the spare seat at this table,’ she said softly. 

Spencer looked to his right to see the woman now holding her cup of coffee, hands wrapped around it securely. Her glasses were back on her nose properly and her book rested on the table near her knee. 

‘I wouldn’t want to ruin your reading time,’ Spencer smiled. ‘Thank you though.’ 

The woman let out a small chuckle before motioning her head towards the door. ‘See that woman who just walked in? That’s Margaret. She is about to order herself a port of tea and a slice of cake. You, my friend, are sitting in Margaret’s seat and trust me, you don’t want to be there when she gets here. She will either flirt with you until you leave to try and get away from her, or she will pick you apart.’ 

‘And what if I’m into older women?’ Spencer challenged the woman, who threw her head back in laughter. 

‘I promise you, if you want to read your book and actually enjoy it, you’d be better coming to sit here with me.’ 

When Spencer saw the older lady ordering the exact thing he was told that she would, he moved his things across to the next table as quickly as he could, sitting down just in time. His new table mate picked her book back up to continue reading. 

‘Nice choice of literature you have there.’ 

The woman smiled at Spencer as she shrugged lightly. ‘The best books are those that tell you what you know already.’ 

‘But one must know that there was truth and there was untruth, and if you clung to the truth even against the whole world, you were not mad.’ Spencer smiled at the woman who looked at him in disbelief. 

‘You’re an Orwell fan?’ 

‘More like a literature fan. I’ve read this book multiple times already,’ Spencer said as he lifted the book into the air slightly. 

‘Quote it,’ the woman challenged, placing her bookmark back into the book so that she could put her attention on him fully. 

Spencer took a deep breath and looked at her, trying to hide the smile that wanted to spread across his face. ‘Yes, love, but not the love that loves for something, to gain something, or because of something, but that love that I felt for the first time, when dying, when I saw my enemy and yet loved him. 

‘I knew that feeling of love which is the essence of the soul, for which no object is needed. And I know that blissful feeling now too. To love one’s neighbours; to love one’s enemies. To love everything - tol;ove God in all His manifestations. 

‘Someone dear to one can be loved with human love; but an enemy can only be loved with divine love. And that was why I felt such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What happened to him? Is he alive? Loving with human love, one may pass from love to hatred; but divine love cannot change. 

‘Nothing, not even death, can shatter it. It is the very nature of the soul. And how many people I have hated in my life. And of all people none I have loved and hated more than her. If it were only possible for me to see her once more.’ 

Spencer trailed off. The woman was staring at him, mouth agape. It was a look that would normally make him extremely uncomfortable but with her, it didn’t.  

‘I’m floored,’ she said finally. ‘War and Peace was the first book I read for my undergrad and I remember reading that passage for the first time. It really made me think about the nuances of love and what it means to love everyone. I’m Y/N, by the way.’ 

‘Spencer.’ 

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Spencer.’ 

‘And you, Y/N.’ 

[heartfullofleeches]

I think that a marionette sounds great, maybe to add a creep/intimate factor maybe it dispenses out of their mouth with it storing in their torso and opens for refilling around their stomach or back

"Sugar for a treat."

The sign stands out around the marionette's lap long with its appearance. Lanky, bony white limbs wrapped in red stripes, a jester hat atop its head with tails that dragged along the floor. The stomach material of its shirt was cut open and the torso itself was gutted to make room for the glass jar placed within. Candy filled it all the way to where the wooden part of its body continued, a crack in the center of its chest. You turn it twice, but nothing happens.

That's strange. Maybe it's broken? You look at the puppet's painted face. Contrasting eyes greet you there, one blue and one pink - lacking pupils and irises. They look just like the balls of gum stored in its chest. The hinges in its jaw confirm any doubts that the candy came directly from its mouth and while they opened when you tried nothing came out. The sign fall out of its lap, facing upwards. You finally start to realize what that kiss mark on it means.

Were you really going to smooch an inanimate object for some candy? There wasn't anyone around for miles, and those little pockets of sweetness were hitting a craving you were unaware of until you laid eyes on their case. How would this even work, anyway?

Shrugging it off, you kiss the marionette's cheek and turn the knob again. Nothing happens - greedy doll. You ghost your lips over theirs and squeeze the knob in preparation for the next attempt. As your mouth connects with the surprisingly delicate pair of lips the soft clunk! of the machine's mechanisms plays at last - but you didn't hurt the handle.

Wooden joints creak as they close around your head, forcing you into a full, open mouth kiss with the marionette as it rises in its chair. You dance on the tips of your feet to match with the additional height as you try to claw its hands away from your skull. A rope of velvet you realize to be its tongue enters your mouth, allowing easier send off for the piece of gum that rolls out. Its right hand grabs your neck so that you don't swallow the candy by accident, helping you chew by working the floor muscles of your jaw. The artificial tang of banana flavoring tangles with your tongue once the marionette's is done doing the same. The wriggling cord strokes the curve of your lips before it retracts back into the creature's mouth. Its stomach contents rattle as a raspy laughs crawls from its throat.

The marionette stands with a hunched posture and picks up the sign. It flips the card over.

"Lifetime guarantee."

[dawn-moths]

"Birthday Wishes"

Undertaker x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(@fanfictionsworld requested: spending your birthday with Undertaker from my Cause to Start a Vendetta AU.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! fluff with some smut at the end, oral sex (reader receiving), use of the word “Daddy”, reader is called “princess, baby, sweetheart”.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You’d been counting down the days for weeks now, your birthday circled on the calendar with a big pink glitter gel pen heart several times over, every day crossed off that crawled closer to the day— your day— making you more and more excited.

Because, as you’d quickly grown accustomed to being spoiled by Undertaker— special occasion or otherwise— your birthday was no exception to being showered with all the love and luxury he had at his disposal.

“Morning, princess…” he cooed, gently smoothing down some of your sleep-tousled hair with a big, cool palm, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you blinked open beary eyes, wrapped in his arms and the many layers of blankets that twisted and tangled about your bodies sprawled across the bed.

“Morning, Daddy…” you replied, voice soft and delicate as the lingering dredges of slumber clung to your tone, an angelic little grin curving up on your sweet lips as you nuzzled closer into Undertaker’s chest, seeking out his elusive warmth.

For a moment, nearly forgetting what today was as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your figure filling with the heavy weight of sleep once more, your eyelids fluttered closed and your breathing began to turn slow and shallow. Undertaker rubbed a hand up and down your back, stirring you back to the waking world and smiling to himself as you let out a big yawn, nose scrunching adorably with the expression.

“If you want to go back to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your nose and causing a fragile giggle to bubble up in your chest, “I won’t stop you. But that would certainly be a shame when we have so many fun things on our to-do list today.”

That was enough to entice you, your mind suddenly much more alert than before, and you snaked your arms up to gently rest over his shoulders. “Just a few more minutes…” you said, pressing yourself even closer to him, wishing you could bask in the safety of his touch forever. “Then I promise I’ll get up.”

A smooth, sonorous chuckle vibrated through his bones, the sound warming you from the inside out like hot milk and honey. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, allowing himself to melt back to a more relaxed state as well. “Just a few more minutes…”

As the sun crept further through the cracks of the curtains, bright beams painting the ornate master bedroom with thin strokes of gold, stirring up the wispy clouds of dust motes swirling through the air, Undertaker coaxed you into finally rising, draping one of his big, fluffy black robes over your shoulders when you became burdened with a chill, the mansion’s usual temperature kept low upon his preference.

Once your feet were dressed in your favorite pair of fluffy socks and even fluffier slippers, you took Undertaker’s hand and let him guide you down the wide halls to the curving staircase, heading towards the kitchen where you could already smell your special birthday breakfast.

The long dining table was decorated to the nines with all kinds of balloon bouquets and bundles of black and white roses overflowing from crystal vases. Spelled out in gold glitter confetti at one end of the display was HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCESS punctuated by a big heart. At the other was a full selection of all your breakfast favorites— souffle pancakes piled high with bananas and melty chocolate chips, strawberry french toasts drizzled with sticky maple syrup and sprinkled with a frosty snowfall of powdered sugar, fluffy scrambled eggs and yogurt parfaits and fruit arranged by color.

You sucked in a gasp of delight, hands clasped before your chest as you eagerly surveyed the scene, looking up at your Daddy like he’d outdone himself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, extending a hand towards the chair at the head of the table— his usual chair, the master’s chair, the dining room’s throne— and pulling it out for you to sit in, taking the seat adjacent to it to join you in the morning’s sugary culinary experience.

Over the meal— you choosing a bit of everything to pile onto your plate in an orderly array, because why should you have to choose just one when today you could have whatever your little heart desired— you and Undertaker began to discuss the day’s itinerary.

There was a packed schedule planned indeed— a shopping outing at all your most beloved designer stores, afternoon tea at the Ritz, exploring some of the artsy nooks and crannies of the city and dropping into your favorite bookstore all before hopping on the Aurora Society’s private jet and taking the hour and a half flight to your favorite five star restaurant in Paris, sure to end the evening by enjoying your usual penthouse suit of the expensive hotel that gave the best view among any of the establishments around.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Undertaker slyly prompted just as you were about to head upstairs to get changed and ready for the events ahead, thoughts already spinning trying to decide what you wanted to wear. You stopped and considered him with an adorably cute expression for a moment until he pulled a big gift bag from under the table where he’d hidden it from you, the glossy black packaging stuffed with glittering silver tissue paper and two perfect satin ribbons serving as the handles. “You know,” he shrugged as he slid it towards you on the table, drinking in your awe, never growing tired of how easily you seemed to be innocently surprised sometimes, “just in case you felt like going out in something new.”

Carefully, as if the wrapping itself was just as valuable as the gift, you plucked the sparkling tissue paper away to uncover the pristinely wrapped box beneath, a marbling of glossy and matte black swirling over the decorative paper like ink dropped into water. The moment the first half of your favorite clothing brand’s name was visible to you, you shot him a glance, as if to say, “you shouldn’t have” despite believing down to your very core that you deserved every expensive, extravagant thing that Undertaker placed in your cute little lap.

Once you lifted the garment from where it had been perfectly folded within its box, holding it up to your body as if to sample how it would look before trying it on, you heard Undertaker sigh, a dreamy, lilting hum tailing off the end of it. “Exquisite…” he remarked, and you now held the dress out from your body, studying the intricate craftsmanship that had been hand stitched into the garment as you smiled to yourself, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It really is.”

But then Undertaker was by your side, having moved soundlessly, his even stride gliding across the short distance to meet you. “I wasn’t talking about the dress,” he murmured, big hands settling on your hips. “Now, why don’t you head upstairs and start getting ready.”

You turned your face up to his, met his lips when he was close enough for a kiss, and muttered out a sweet little, “Thank you, Daddy,” before following his instruction and heading for the staircase.

He watched you go, saw the skip in your step as you ventured off, only returning to clearing the table once you disappeared down the long second story hallway and out of his view. He was going to look forward to taking that dress off of you later, unwrapping you like his own special gift by the time night draped itself over the sky.

***

The afternoon had been like a dream, you and your lover floating from one location to the next to try on extravagant clothing and sample imported teas, the two of you practically waltzing through the downtown streets where you longed to see what new installments the local London artists put up around the city before you’d lost track of time perusing your favorite bookstore, a good two hours going by without you even noticing as you strategically searched for the next story to get yourself hooked on.

But as the sky began to fade from blue to gold, it signaled that dinner was soon approaching, which meant you two had a plane to catch if you wanted to arrive to your reservation on time.

The hostess greeted you two with a friendly smile, addressing you both by name, the entire restaurant staff made familiar with London’s most notorious boss and the beautiful girl who was always on his arm, Undertaker making short, lighthearted conversation with the manager in French while they crossed paths on the walk to your usual table, the man chuckling at something your Daddy had said, forever able to charm anyone if he set his mind to it, it seemed.

As you both enjoyed the delicacies of the six course meal, you continued to talk and laugh, never running out of topics to converse about, though tonight you were most excited to tell him all about the book you’d recently finished and your expectations for the new one you’d chosen on your earlier excursion, having heard nothing but praise for the acclaimed tale.

Once the horizon had lost its lilac blush and sunk deep into the velvet navy of nightfall though, you knew you were just about to enter into yet another phase of your luxurious birthday festivities.

***

You could smell the roses from down the hall before the doors to your hotel suite in Paris even opened. The entirety of the three connected rooms were decked from floor to ceiling in at least one hundred thousand dollars worth of florals, vibrant reds and sultry blacks, flawless creams and even a dash of lovely soft pinks.

You could’ve cried at how gorgeous it all was, blinking the mist from your eyes as you spun in slow circles about the place, taking it all in. Undertaker’s hands found your shoulders to steady you, stopping your awestruck turns to face the beautiful birthday cake on the hotel room’s center table, the special dessert shaped like a heart and iced in a rainbow of your favorite colors, several candles placed strategically on the top and already lit, small flames glowing and beckoning you over to make a wish.

But what could you possibly wish for when you already had everything you’d ever want or need— a gorgeous man who loved you, showering you in every stunning thing life had to offer, as simple as the snap of his fingers or a wave of his hand— besides to continue living this blessed life that had found its way to you, through trial and tribulation?

Taking a few steps forward towards the cake, you choked out through a shaky breath, “Oh my god…” unable to hold back your tears any longer, a few sparkling drops running down your cheeks, glittering like gold as they caught the amber of the flickering firelight. You looked back at Undertaker, who was not far behind you, and wondered if you’d ever be able to convey how much this all meant to you. It almost seemed unfair. He’d always be able to do more for you than you would for him, though he never seemed to mind.

For him, just having you— his sweet, precious baby girl to dote on and adore as much as he pleased— was far more than enough. All you had to do was exist. All you had to do was be his.

“Well, go on,” he lightly urged, a calm smile playing at the corner of his lips as he gestured towards the center table. “The candles won’t blow themselves out, now will they?”

You smiled, big and bright, and let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy. Undertaker was addicted to that sound, the way it rang out like the delicate jingle of bells, the way it warmed him like the sun’s rays after so much rain. It made everything he’d ever done, good, bad, or somewhere in between, all worth it. Just to see you smile at him like that, just to hear you laugh. Just to know it was him who’d been the orchestrator of such emotions.

And as you let out a strong gust of a breath, turning each melting birthday candle from flame to smoke, you realized you did have one wish you wanted to make afterall.

Let things be like this forever, you thought to yourself, like a silent prayer. Let us stay as in love for the rest of our lives as we are right now, in this moment.

Undertaker cut the cake, a piece for you and a piece for him, and then the two of you sat by the counter outlooking the spotless floor to ceiling windows that gave way to the sprawling view of the City of Light, the night sky clear and sparkling with little bursts of silver stars overhead.

You talked and joked and laughed while you both enjoyed your dessert, your chair pressed right next to his, close enough that you could lean your head over to rest against the side of his shoulder while his arm slung across your back, hugging you closer to him, his most cherished treasure.

“You know…” you began, gazing dreamily out the window at the romantic scene the city offered. Then, casting him a glance from where you were nestled into his side, you said, “I think this might really be the best birthday ever.”

Something in his eyes softened a shade then, and in response Undertaker lightly took your chin between his lithe fingers, tilting your mouth just ever so slightly upwards so he could lean down to meet it. You hadn’t expected the kiss, languid and savoring at first as you parted your lips to let him in, both of you tasting like your favorite flavor of cake, soon turning more hungry, having you straddling his lap and blinded by the blissful haze that was slowly filling you from the inside out.

When he finally broke away, leaned back just far enough to look you in the eyes, gently wiping the cool pad of his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip, glossy from your mingled saliva, a weak attempt to clean you up a bit, he said, “I guess that means I’ll have to go above and beyond next year,” and you laughed and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you felt yourself relax over him.

“No, but really…” you murmured. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything. Always.”

All you got as a warning for what happened next was a low, lilting chuckle humming in his chest before he was hoisting you up, big hands splayed against the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you elsewhere in the suite.

“Where are we going?” you playfully asked, though you already had a pretty good idea.

“There’s still a few hours until midnight,” he remarked, a new kind of vigor in his voice and stride. He set you down on the edge of the king-sized bed, beginning to shrug off his jacket and tug his belt buckle free of its loops as he added, “Which means your birthday’s not over yet, princess.”

The smirk that spread across his face then made that fluttering creature resting in your lower belly roll over inside of you, beginning to wake, soon asking to be satisfied like a dog scratching at the door begging for treats, relentless until it was given its desired reward. It wasn’t long before Undertaker was hooking his grip under your thighs again, pulling you further down the bed where he then knelt at the foot of it.

You gave him an uncertain and slightly suspicious look as he flicked his emerald gaze up to meet yours. Usually, he liked to undress you, strip you down piece by piece before ridding himself of his own clothing, admiring every inch of your bare body like it was the most masterful work of art. Then he’d pin you down, his prized butterfly, and get to work at soaking both your bodies with pleasure before wringing them dry, squeezing you for every last lustful drop he could.

But tonight— on your night— he figured he’d do things a little differently. Give you one last birthday surprise before the clock struck twelve.

“Just relax, sweetheart…” he cooed, carefully bunching your new dress up around your waist, exposing the expensive lace clinging to the most delicate parts of you and drinking in the sight like it rivaled even that of the one just beyond the windows. “Let Daddy make you feel good…”

Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the soft raise of your lower belly, and you felt your tight little hole futter and your sensitive bud pulse as he slowly removed your panties, your already damp core causing them to cling to you a moment before the cool air sighed against your damp slit.

Undertaker ran a long finger through your dewy folds, making your next breath catch as he slipped it inside of you to gather more of your slick before rubbing it against your puffy clit, already swollen with arousal, pulling one of those adorable whines from your throat as you lay one arm over your eyes, the other sprawled out across the bed, little fingers twisting into the sheets, trying to grab hold of anything while you still had the chance.

“That’s it, baby…” he praised, helping to spread you wider for him, a leg thrown over one of his broad shoulders as he continued to tease you. His next words sent a puff of his warm breath against your cunt, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, exhaling a shuddering sigh. He whispered, “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,” and when he licked a flat-tongued stripe up your pussy, you let out a soft, broken whine, back already beginning to arch a little at the sinfully sweet feel of him.

Undertaker was skilled at a lot of things— running a business, making money, getting away with murder— but the thing you thought he was best at, above all else, was pleasuring you.

It was effortless, the way he knew exactly what to do that made you body bend to his command, melting your mind until all you knew was the press of his hips or the wet warmth of his mouth, the indents of his teeth, his fingerprints, all of it branded into you so no matter where you looked on your own body there would be a reminder of him, like a promise, a gift.

You were clenching the silky sheets in your trembling fist as he speared his tongue into you, his sharp nose nudging against your clit every time and forcing moan after delicious, high-pitched moan out of you like that was the only sound you’d ever known how to make. If he thought your laugh was syrupy sweet, then your moans were something else entirely, something far more addicting or satisfying than sticky, sickly sweet sugar. More like a drug to him, making him addicted in a way that, once he got a taste, he couldn’t stop. Not until you had nothing left to give, his pursuit at seeing just how far or how long he could make you go merciless time and time again.

“P-please—” you sobbed, the new veil of tears that had welled in your eyes causing your lashes to clump and spike together with every fluttering roll of your eyes back into your head. His pace was voracious, wanting to devour you down to your very core. You could barely get half a broken plea out before it was interrupted by a surrendering mewl or a soundless gasp, mouth hung open in ecstasy before he prepared to shatter you. “Please— I’m gonna—”

But before you could even speak the last word of your sentence, let alone remember it, Undertaker had you coming undone, unraveling you like a frayed thread on a silk scarf, pulling you apart until there was nothing left but a tangle of string he could then rearrange into any shape he pleased.

Your chest rose and fell with short, shallow, panting breaths, rigid form relaxing back into the mattress, body gone all pliable and boneless once the remaining tension melted away. Meanwhile, Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive insides of your stained thighs, palms gently petting you as you drifted down from the high and back into the garden of Eden he’d planted, nurtured, and grown just for you.

Normally, he’d barely give you enough time to recover before commencing round two, but, as he seemed to be a little more patient with you on this most special of days, he allowed your heart to slow to a steady rhythm and your breathing to smooth out into even inhales and exhales before shifting over you, darting out his tongue to lick at his own lips to catch one last obscene taste of you before wiping away your glistening arousal from the bottom half of his pale face with the back of his hand.

As he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes, the vibrant green of them almost glowing through the dim dark of the bedroom, he said, as if only to himself, “Just look at you… So gorgeous… My beautiful girl…” as he helped free you the rest of the way from your pretty birthday dress, mindfully folding it and placing it on the nearest bedside drawer so it didn’t get ruined.

Because he did intend to ruin you.

He intended to ruin you in all the right ways.

As he shed his own clothing like a black-skinned snake, all those silvery scars wrapped around alabaster flesh now on full display, you reached out for him, wanting, craving, needing to feel the press of his body back on yours before the ebbing pleasure made you drift off to dreamland. Though, with Undertaker, reality could often feel like a dream, so perfect your conscious mind almost struggled to comprehend it was real at times.

But, as he began to lean back over you, your fingers interlocked as he pressed your hands down into the comforter on either side of your head, both your legs thrown over his shoulders to have you splayed wide and vulnerable for him, just the way he liked you, one thing was for certain. Undertaker had been ahead of himself when he’d said he’d have to find a way to outdo your birthday next year. After tonight, you had no idea how things could get any better than this.

***

(Hello and thank you so much to @fanfictionsworld for your request! I hope I did it justice and thank you for being so patient with me while you waited for it. I know you’ve been following me for quite some time and I always recognize you when I see you pop up in my notifs, so it was truly a pleasure getting to write for you <3

Also want to give a big thank you to everyone else for reading as well! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

[i99zhuo]

Nini's diet ୧ ‧₊˚ 𓐐⋅ eat like blackpink jennie!

this is a guide on jennie's diet plan with multiple meal + a little workout routine!

content list:

1. diet specifications

2. breakfast

3. lunch

4. dinner

5. extras!

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ diet specifications + workout ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

👒 important: I'm only sharing Jennie's diet, always consult a doctor before doing any diet, stay healthy people >.<

INFO: Jennie's diet plan is simple with meals that consist of good proteins, organic vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. In this guide I will provide 2 meal examples for breakfast, lunch and dinner that I have researched and are part of Jennie's diet.

The calories you will consume doing this diet are around 472 to 1119 depending on what options you choose to eat! [TRY AND ALWAYS STAY IN 800 cal TO 1119 cal DON'T STARVE YOURSELF!!!]

Diet duration: 3days - 7days

WORKOUT: Here is the actual workout Jennie does!

wunda twists (30s per side)

side kick kneeling (30s per side)

break (15s)

downward dog leg lift (30s per side)

downward dog ab cruch (30s per side)

break (15s)

jack knife (30s)

one legged wheel (30s per side)

bow pose (30s)

dancer pose (30s per side)

video ver. -> click me!

you can also do any of the workouts i mentioned on my previous blog!

RULES: try and make these changes in your diet in order to make it more effective!

> drink 8 glasses of water! (example -> 2 while having breakfast, 2 while working out, 2 while having lunch and 2 while eating dinner)

> reduce salt intake!

> reduce sugar intake! (use another sweetener instead, example -> stevia, honey, coconut sugar, etc.)

> have your last meal at around 6pm to 8pm

✸ ꒰ breakfast ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🦎 meal a: simple and light fruit breakfast 202cal

-> 1 banana (~~130g)

-> a glass of soy milk (~~200ml)

🌿 meal b: whole grain toast with boiled egg 138cal

-> 1 egg (~~55g)

-> 1 slice of wholegrain bread (~~25g)

✸ ꒰ lunch ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🥑 meal a: avocado salad 266cal

-> 1/2 avocado (~~120g)

-> 1 cup of cherry tomato (~~150g)

-> 4 pieces of lettuce (~~10g)

-> 1 garlic clove (~~3g)

-> a pinch of salt

-> a pinch of pepper

-> 1tbs of olive oil

🎾 meal b: salmon salad 216cal

-> 1 cup of lettuce mix (~~35g)

-> 1 palm of salmon (~~80g)

-> a handful of blueberries (~~35g)

-> 1/2 boiled egg (~~28g)

-> oriental sauce to your taste!

✸ ꒰ dinner ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🛣 meal a: detox juice 118cal

-> 1 apple (~~160g)

-> 1/4 cup of pineapple (~~43g)

->1 lemmon (juice) (~~15g)

-> 1 and a 1/2 cups of spinach (~~45g)

💶 meal b: porridge 280cal

-> 2 spoons of black beans (~~30g)

-> 30g of mung beans

-> 2 spoons of red beans (~~30g)

-> 1/2 cup of rice (~~100g)

-> 4 cups of water

✸ ꒰ others ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

✳️ these are some extras you can eat if you're still hungry or craving snacks!

option 1: detox tea (2cal)

option 2: fat free yoghurt (66cal)

option 3: oatmeal cookies (217cal)

option 4: latte (86cal)

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

Hey ty for reading AND waiting for this one 😭😭😭😭 I'm so sorry but I'm so unsure about this one, it's my first time trying this format sooo idk if its fine or not??? I feel like it's all over the place...

well anyways i don't really have much to say 🫡

toodlezzzzzzz

[bradshawsbaby]

It’s A Lovely Day Today

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: There’s not much to say except for the fact that I adore this man and love envisioning married life with him.

Warnings: Melt-in-your-mouth fluff and the tiniest smidge of suggestive content.

You could think of no better way to start your Saturday morning than by waking up tangled in your husband’s arms. After a long night of lovemaking, the two of you had been too exhausted to do much of anything besides fall asleep with your bodies wrapped around each other. So when the pale morning sunlight began peeking through the curtains, teasing your eyes open slowly, you weren’t surprised to find your husband’s face only an inch or two away from yours, his arm flung across your waist and his legs intertwined with yours.

Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed at your husband’s sleeping form. Bradley always looked so adorable when he was in a deep sleep, his hair tousled and his lips parted ever so slightly as his chest rose and fell peacefully. No matter what was weighing on his mind, or how stressed he might have been, he always looked relaxed and carefree when was asleep. His expression was so unguarded, so innocent and tender. As you looked at him, you couldn’t resist the urge to lean over and press a soft kiss to that face you loved so much.

Bradley made a soft noise as he shifted slightly in bed, but he didn’t wake up. Smiling, you traced your fingertips over the contours of his cheek lightly, loving the feel of his warm skin pressed against yours. You didn’t often get mornings like this, mornings where you could lazily rest beside him and get to soak in the sight of his tranquil slumber. Normally, he was up with the dawn and out the door with a sleepy kiss and a murmured “I love you” before you could fully open your eyes. But today was one of his rare days off, and you intended to enjoy every single moment of it.

Much as you would have loved to stay in bed all morning, snuggled up against your husband’s side, it suddenly dawned on you that you knew a nice way to surprise him on this lovely Saturday. With a smile, you leaned over to press another kiss to his precious face, this time brushing your lips against his with a feather-light touch. Moving as gingerly as possible, so as to avoid waking him up, you carefully disentangled yourself and slid out of bed. With a soft yawn, you reached for one of his T-shirts and slipped it over your head, quietly padding out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen on bare feet.

You’d just gone grocery shopping the other day, and you had all the ingredients you needed to make the banana chocolate chip pancakes that Bradley loved so much. It was the same recipe your mom had used when you were growing up, which had delighted Bradley when you first told him that.

“I love that it’s something special from when you were little,” he’d told you with a bright smile. “Makes them even better.”

Pulling out all the ingredients you needed, you set them out on the kitchen island, humming to yourself all the while. You realized with a slight laugh that you’d left your phone near the sink last night, evidently forgetting all about it once Bradley had started kissing your neck in the middle of doing the dishes. Grabbing it, you opened up one of the playlists you’d made for yourself, which consisted of some of your favorite jazz music from the 1940s and 50s. You were a sucker for those classic tunes. You grinned to yourself as soon as Billie Holiday started crooning through your phone’s speaker, turning in satisfaction to grab the rest of the supplies your recipe required.

Singing softly under your breath, you pulled your hair into a loose ponytail before you got to work whisking the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon together in a large mixing bowl. You loved baking, and the thought of baking something special for your husband while he slept soundly and contentedly in your bed filled you with more happiness than you ever could have thought possible. As simple as it all was, it made that particular Saturday feel like the loveliest day you had ever experienced.

Setting the dry ingredients off to the side, you began carefully measuring out the milk, oil, and vanilla extract, cracking in an egg before whisking them all together as Billie Holiday’s voice faded and Frank Sinatra’s voice filled the kitchen. Before combining the wet and dry ingredients, you spent a few minutes mashing up the ripe bananas that you’d been holding onto with the express purpose of making pancakes or banana bread. Satisfied with your work, you combined all the ingredients together and stirred them carefully, mixing in the mini chocolate chips as you did so.

So engrossed were you in the work that you were doing, as well as the music that you were humming along to, that you didn’t even hear the sound of Bradley’s footsteps approaching.

“Hmm, now this is a sight I could get used to,” came his teasing voice from behind you, still a little thick with sleepiness.

Turning over your shoulder, your pulse quickened almost immediately at the sight of your handsome husband, casually leaning against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed across his bare chest, clad in nothing more than a pair of boxers. He always had that effect on you.

“Good morning, baby,” you smiled, a bit of flour streaking across your cheek as you swiped at your face with the back of your hand.

“Good morning, honey,” Bradley replied, stepping over to you and pressing a kiss to your lips before gently brushing the flour off your cheek with an affectionate smile. “What are you making?”

“Banana chocolate chip pancakes,” you told him, carefully pouring some of the pancake batter onto the electric griddle you’d set up on one of the other counters.

“Mm, my favorite,” Bradley murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzling your neck tenderly. “You’re really spoiling me, huh?”

“Who says they’re for you?” you teased, which earned you a playful little nip on your earlobe.

“They smell delicious,” he told you, nodding in appreciation towards the griddle.

“They should be ready soon, as long as you don’t distract me,” you laughed, your brain already feeling a bit fuzzy from the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around you and his warm cheek pressed against yours.

Bradley smirked slightly, glancing down at you. “Why, Mrs. Bradshaw, whatever do you mean?” he asked, pressing a trail of kisses along your shoulder.

“You know exactly what I mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you shot back, which made him chuckle, his chest rumbling against your back.

At that moment, “It’s a Lovely Day Today” by Ella Fitzgerald started playing and you couldn’t help but squeal in excitement. It was one of your favorites.

“Oh, baby, turn the volume up!” you begged Bradley, carefully scooping more batter onto the griddle.

Bradley did as you asked, turning the volume all the way up on your phone and then turning back to you with a mischievous smile on his face. Reaching over, he took the bowl of pancake batter out of your hands and set it down on the counter, then took you into his arms.

“Dance with me, honey,” he grinned, lacing his fingers through yours and wrapping his other arm around your waist as he spun you around on the tiled kitchen floor.

“Bradley!” you laughed, allowing your husband to scoop you up into his embrace even as you shook your head. “The pancakes are going to burn!”

“They’ll be fine,” Bradley assured you confidently, pulling you closer to his chest and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “Besides,” he added, his voice softer as he held you against him. “I’d rather dance with my beautiful wife than eat pancakes any day of the week.”

Giggling softly, you couldn’t deny that dancing with Bradley in the middle of your kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning was definitely a much more appealing option than even the most delicious of pancakes. Wrapping your free arm around his shoulders, you pressed your face against his neck as the two of you swayed in rhythm with the music.

When Ella’s voice slowly started to fade, Bradley spun you around one final time, then caught you up in his arms again and kissed you deeply.

“Okay,” you grinned, pressing your hands against his firm chest. “Time to finish those pancakes before they’re burned beyond recognition,” you insisted.

Smiling, Bradley nodded as you went to finish preparing breakfast. As you flipped the pancakes on the griddle, he set about cleaning up the small mess you’d made during prep time, and then set out plates on your small kitchen table.

“Pancakes are up,” you said, scooping them onto a large plate. You smiled to yourself when you saw that the consistency of the bananas and the chocolate chips was just right.

“You really are spoiling me,” Bradley told you as you placed the pancakes on the table. He leaned closer and whispered teasingly in your ear, “First last night, now this.”

“I figured you needed some sustenance after all that energy you used up last night,” you joked, laughing as you went to the fridge to grab some orange juice.

“Hmm, you might need some of that sustenance for all the energy you’re going to need today, baby,” Bradley winked suggestively, sitting down at the table to dig into his breakfast.

Face flushed pleasantly, you sat down to join him, the two of you laughing and talking over banana chocolate chip pancakes while your music lilted in the background.

It turned out Bradley was right—the both of you certainly needed plenty of sustenance for how you spent the rest of the morning and the majority of the afternoon.

It was a lovely day indeed.

[peachy-dove]

Kizaru Borsalino x Chubby!GN! Reader Headcanons Sfw/Nsfw

CW: MDNI 18+ Content,Mentions of: Bondage, Roleplay, overstim, sex toys

 SFW -

Kizaru Borsalino is a very adventurous man, he loves to try new things with you! New restaurants to try new foods (if you’re a picky eater he picks places that always serve what you like) new places for dates, and so much more he likes to keep the relationship fresh!

-He would absolutely love a chubby s/o he will squeeze your cheeks and pinch them while sweet talking you, and he would totally die for you and anyone who says something he will embarrass them till no end and then take you out for ice cream 

 -His idea of the best S/O is someone who can keep him balanced, he’s always the one to have fun and slack off, so a partner who can have fun but be serious when they need to is ideal for him. 

 -He loves cuddling especially while he gets his work done (he’s not getting anything done :/) 

 -He’ll just hold you while you sit in his lap and rub your back especially if either of you had a bad day 

 -Will feed you too! He enjoys making sure his love is well fed~ 

 -Coming home with a glass of wine and gossiping about each other's day is such a highlight for him, he feels special that you’re comfortable with each other to share even the little details 

 -He’s a major little spoon, he loves your warmth , beware he is the type to put his cold feet on you and laugh about it! He can be the big spoon if he wants too and if you ask 

 -He grabs your tummy from behind and rubs it :) 

 -Will be not only your boyfriend but also you sugar daddy! He enjoys spending money on you to make sure you’re taken care of~ 

 -Very laid back as we all know, will try to get you to stop working and come have fun with him because he’s an attention whore and can not go 5 minutes without you 

 -He will do anything to see you happy, even if he has to make a fool out of himself 

 -Not really the jealous type, he may pout a little bit but he fully trusts you and will try to make the person hitting you uncomfortable by kissing you in front of them 

 -Will take you on missions with him because he can’t go anywhere without you but if he has to leave you he will have other marines help figure out his den den mushi watch to talk to you and describe the island he’s on so you can expe6rience it too! 

 -Will play games over the phone like I Spy to try and share the beauty of the island he is on. 

 -A very experienced kisser, you will feel like you’re on cloud 9 all the way.

-He’s a silly little banana man who can’t get enough of you 

 NSFW: 

-Just like earlier when i said he enjoys trying new things, this man will try anything once, he likes to keep things fun in the bedroom 

-Equally enjoys both giving and receiving head, loves for you to choke on it but also loves how you taste in his mouth (certified ass eater too) 

-Toys are a fun part for him! If you’re for it he’s down, loves vibrators and dildos on himself too 

 -A little bit of a voyeur, has and will watch you do your own thing (he’s an old perv) 

 -I also see him enjoying mutual masturbation because of the voyeur thing, drinking in the sight of your body on display just pleasuring yourself is very sexy to him 

 -Likes to set romantic settings for you both, his favorite track playing with the lights dim while there's rose petals on the ground, candles, the whole 9 yards, he likes you nice and relaxed for him 

 -While he does love to take his time with you there are times where he has no patience and fucks you like the whore he says you are 

-Hoisting your legs over his shoulders and putting you in a mating press, ankles by your ears and his dick pistoning in and out of your soaked and sore hole like he hates you 

-Kizaru also enjoys roleplay! Maybe you’re the naughty nurse who came to check on his injury and you “accidently” fell over into his lap and ended up getting your hole resized by your lovely patient ;) 

-He really goes all out in roleplay, rarely ever breaks character and even when you do as long as you don’t use the safe word he’s gonna keep it going until he’s satisfied and you’ve cum more times than you could count 

-Bondage is another thing he enjoys, whether on himself or his partner 

-Sometimes when you’re feeling insecure just to make you feel better he will fuck you standing until you can’t think anymore 

 -Loves the way your hole feels after he’s cum inside, he will purposefully overstim both you and himself for the feeling, he gets high off it 

-Kizaru has brought up a threesome between you two and sakazuki and always laughs about it but he’s dead serious, it’s just up to you~ 

-Loves when you ride him in his office, doesn’t care who comes in just don’t stop~

[imfinereallyy]

But You'll Have This Place to Call Home, Always

available on ao3

June 2008

Peering through the window of Starlight café, Steve Harrington watched the lively streets of Hawkins' City unfold before him. Early morning commuters had begun to pitter out onto the pavement, their eyes tired, heavy even, but each of them walked with purpose. None of them noticed as Steve’s eyes followed them, familiar faces he couldn’t name, but he knew their routine. It was an easy rhythm to fall in a city like theirs.

Smaller than Chicago but bigger than the small suburban streets scattered across the Midwest, Hawkins City was its own little world tucked between the pages of the known and unknown. A name, though recognizable, was not something a person would put much thought to. Steve Harrington thought of himself like his city some days, a friendly face amongst the cranky customers—someone you say hello to but not someone you’d ask how they are doing. 

Steve flipped the closed sign to open; he could hear Robin puttering around in the back. She was probably looking around for her brand of Earl Grey—it wasn’t the tea they used for customers; it was from a gas station off the highway. The brand was cheap and downright awful, but he knew it reminded her of the time Steve drove them across the country to escape their parents. 

It was a small comfort on stressful mornings. Robin had been having a lot of those lately, Steve had noticed. 

“In the cabinet below the register,” Steve spoke over his shoulder, careful not to shout this early. 

“ Huh , I had more than I thought,” Robin mumbled as she thumbed through the box. 

She didn’t. Steve had gotten up early this morning to go to the gas station an hour out. He bought all six boxes they had left, the rest under his bed at home. 

When Steve walked over to the counter, a hot cup of green tea sat there for him. He looked to see Robin heating water for herself and took a sip out of his mug.

Tangy and lightly sweet.  

“Perfect,” Steve mumbled to Robin; she gave him a soft smile in return. 

This had never been the dream for them, stuffed into a small corner on a busy street, but it felt good. They had fallen into a routine, something Steve thought the two of them would never have. Years of trying to appease everyone, stretching himself thin, only to fall short, had taken their toll during his teen years. Trouble used to follow Steve wherever he went, and he had begun to think he was the trouble himself. 

Now, though, in a city very far away from a life they once knew, Steve was content in the safety of knowing what came next. 

The chime above the door rang as a grumpy Hopper entered the café. Steve’s hands were already working to make his order: a large coffee with four creams, two sugars, and whipped cream on top. Of course, it was in a to-go cup, despite Hopper always staying at least an hour in the shop after ordering. Steve knew it was because Hop didn’t like anyone to know about his secret sweet tooth. 

Steve had found it funny in the past few years how often someone’s order never really matched them at first glance. He had gotten pretty good at guessing the more he worked, and it was rare for anyone to surprise him. 

Hop’s order never changed; Joyce always ordered whatever new double-shot espresso drink we had. Max had a cold brew on her days off and a banana smoothie during her shifts. Dustin always demanded a frappuccino even though they didn’t make them. Robin drank tea first in the morning and an espresso shot at noon. And Steve himself was simple.

Always tea, never coffee.

A fact, to those who knew, that was constantly baffling. 

“Here you go, Jim.” Steve smiled as the older man grimaced.

“I know that most people usually insist on using their first name, kid. But how many times do I have to tell you it’s Hop?” 

Steve’s smile widened as Hop put a five-dollar bill in the tip jar like he did every morning. “You drink your coffee without a lid, and I’ll start calling you Hop.” 

Hopper didn’t argue but frowned into this cup as he walked over to the red couch against the wall. 

Steve chuckled and turned to watch the sunrise over the city skyline. The café was on the city's outer edge, and although it didn’t get as much traffic as it would if they were at its epicenter, Steve wouldn’t trade it. 

The sunrise made it worth getting up this early every morning. It made the inevitable ordinary day ahead special, even if it looked the same as the day before.

Steve pulled down the sleeves of his yellow sweater and adjusted the little “ Steeb :) ” nametag Robin made for him as he returned to the register.

Another chime sounded throughout the café; it was time to get to work. 

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

At noon, Steve handed Robin her espresso shot, expecting nothing more than the usual grunt of appreciation to sound throughout the busy café. 

Instead, Robin let the cup slip through her fingers as the sound of a motorcycle rumbled outside the café's doors. 

“Shit.” Robin screeched as the hot coffee spilled over Steve’s fingers. 

He hissed in pain; he knew his skin would pay the consequences of the simple distraction. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve; I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at her; despite the many cars that passed through the streets, no one drove a motorcycle around here, and those who had only ever passed through. The deep sounds of the engine parked in front of their shop were all kinds of new, and they probably brought a bad memory or two for Robin. 

“It’s okay, Bobbi, you couldn’t have known.” Steve looked up at the ceiling as he tried not to let his eyes fill with tears; it was just another scar to add to the list. No one would probably even notice it amongst the others. 

Distantly, he heard the sound of the door chime go off, but he paid no mind as he watched Robin run off to grab a clean towel from the kitchen to wrap ice in. 

A throat cleared from behind Steve, and a small rush of panic surged through him. They were in the café, with customers around ; now wasn’t the time to panic. 

Preparing a bright smile, Steve turned to the awaiting customer. “Hi, how can I help you?” 

Steve clutched his burning hand as he took in the man before him. Dark chestnut curls framed an unhappy face. The man was undeniably gorgeous, the kind of guy Steve once upon a time would go for, a guy that Steve now stayed far away from. The man’s eyes were set in a glare that felt wrong to Steve. Someone with big eyes like his should have delight in them, should be lively and maybe even kind. Instead, all Steve got was a burning heat behind his stare, one that Steve felt that if the man could use to set Steve on fire, he would. 

Steve’s smile slipped a bit as he took in the man’s slight frown; the stranger’s five o’clock shadow moved with the contortion of his lips. He caught himself and returned his customer service smile on his face.

 “Sir?” Steve clenched his hand before him; the man’s eyes followed the movement, and his frown deepened. 

“You hurt often, sweetheart?” The man finally spoke, his voice rough and low against Steve’s ears. 

Steve wondered what it would be like to hear it close to his ears. The words would have stirred something in his gut if it were for the man's tone. Condescending. Bored. Done with Steve's shit before even knowing him. 

Steve’s smile slipped completely; he didn’t bother to try to fake it. He felt a spark of anger he hadn’t felt in a long time, since the last time he spoke to his own parents, to be precise. 

With his eyebrows tugging and nose scrunched, Steve prepared to give the stranger a piece of his mind until Robin came running back over. 

“Oh my god, sorry that took so long. Jon was using most of the towels to clean down the kitchen, despite me having told him too many times we have set towels for that! And so I had to run into the bathroom under the sink—the employee bathroom, don’t worry, Steve–and then I had to make sure I didn’t trip and fall on my way back because we can’t have two injured employees on our hands! And then–”

“ Robin , rant.” 

Robin cut herself off and thrust the towel, now filled with ice, into his hands. “Sorry, I just was so startled because of the— oh, hello. Do you need some help?” Robin said, only noticing now that Steve had been helping the sorry excuse of a customer. 

The man’s lips curved into a slight smirk, and Steve cursed his only little heart for skipping a beat. Way to be a cliche, he whispered to it. 

“I was just waiting for,” the man said, glancing down at Steve’s nametag and raising an eyebrow. Steeb , to take my order, but it appears you’re both busy, so I can wait.”

Steve felt all his blood rush to his cheeks; he was sure his cheeks were the color of Max’s hair. Usually, Steve didn’t mind the nametag, but now he was silently cursing Robin six ways to Sunday. Steve glanced down at the menace herself, and she at least had the audacity to flinch slightly at the situation. Steve hadn’t even told her this guy was rubbing him the wrong way, but she already knew. 

It was sometimes creepy how well she could read him. 

“It’s Steve. And don’t worry about it.” Steve forced a smile on his face as he repeated a mantra in his head. Keep people happy. Smile. Don’t worry about what others think. In that order.  “What can I get you, sir?” 

Steve rolled his shoulders back; he could hear the cracking echo throughout his body. He had such stiff bones for someone who was only brushing twenty-seven. When she caught him sitting on the stool behind the counter instead of his usual standing, Joyce had told him once that it was because his aches told a story. Steve liked to think of his body that way. It was easier to believe all the pain was a part of a story rather than a meaningless torment. 

The man watched Steve’s face closely, most likely taking pleasure in the discomfort on Steve’s face, before speaking. “ Eddie . You can call me Eddie, sweetheart.”

“What can I get you, sir?” Steve repeated, ignoring him. 

Eddie’s smile bloomed in full across his face. Dimples appeared on his cheeks, and the lines beside his lips proved that he probably smiled often. 

He should , Steve thought; he had a pretty smile.  

Steve made a note to remind himself to think fewer thoughts like that in the future. There was no use in making the note anyway, considering he was more than sure a man like Eddie didn’t stick around places like Hawkins. He should save himself the trouble of wasting his time on thoughts about men like Eddie. 

Still, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what the man would order. He surely wouldn’t surprise Steve. He was sure most people had Eddie pinned as a black coffee type of guy; it was easy to assume so at first glance. But Steve knew better to judge by the surface of it all. Sure, the guy wore a leather jacket and had a nose ring, but it didn’t mean anything. No, Steve was almost positive the man was about to order something ridiculously sweet, with something insane in it, like whole milk.  

“Medium black coffee with two sugars.” Eddie voiced.

Steve froze for a moment. He hadn’t gotten an order wrong in over a year. But here he was, making an ass out of himself with his jaw slightly open as he stared at the man before him. Eddie ordered a black coffee . He was so thoroughly surprised by how unsurprising it all was. 

Eddie’s head tilted at Steve, which made him realize how silent he had been. Even Robin had begun to nudge his side. “ Seriously , just a black coffee?”

Eddie’s smile once again slipped into a devious smirk. “Don’t forget the two sugars. I like it just a little sweet. Sometimes you need something to soothe the bite….of the coffee, of course.” 

Robin moved her head back and forth between them, biting her lip from saying something Steve was sure would only make the situation worse. 

Steve put on his best customer service smile. “I’ll get right on that, sir; Robin here will ring you up. Thank you for stopping by Stardust café on your way through our city.”

“Oh, it’s been a pleasure. And I’m not passing through; I’m gonna be here awhile.” 

Steve dropped his smile and didn’t even bother responding as he walked away to make Eddie’s boring coffee. He could hear Robing ringing him up in the background, the chatter resuming within the café. 

Steve felt sick in his stomach. He hadn’t even realized everyone had stopped talking, which meant everyone had seen the interaction. 

Great. Fucking fantastic. Steve Harrington was once again nothing but a car wreck everyone couldn't help but stop and stare at. 

Steve heard the slight pitter-patter of feet behind him. “Not now, Robin.” He clipped as he began to pour the sugar into the cup. He scrambled to find the lid.

“You know that was pretty weird, dingus. And I have a high threshold for weird. Considering we’ve been friends for almost a decade now.”

Steve searched for a Sharpie to write the name on the cup, although he mostly did it to be petty since no one else had ordered in the past ten minutes. “ Don’t , Robin. I don’t need to hear it right now, and jesus christ, where is the damn marker!” Steve ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

Robin leaned forward and plucked something from Steve’s apron pocket. She held it out in front of him; it was the damn marker.

Steve sighed and snatched it from her hands. Ripping the cap off with his teeth, Steve grumbled. “I don’t have time to deal with men like him, Bobbi. He screams trouble. He had already stirred up enough with his damn bike. Plus, just look at him. He just screams trouble, Robs.” 

“Steve–”

“No, I know what you’re going to say. ‘ We don’t judge people like that, Stevie ,’ but you know what, Robin? Yes, we do. We gossip more than the church ladies back in Rose Hills. Especially when trouble like that comes our way–”

“But Steve–”

Steve placed the coffee on the counter, and as he saw Eddie approach, he whipped his head back toward Robin. “Don’t Steve me, Robin. You’re telling me that a guy like him doesn’t scream–”

“For the love of god, Steve!” Robin grabbed Steve’s shoulders just as Eddie scooped up the coffee. 

“What, Robin?” Steve blew out, exasperated. 

“Did you even see the name you wrote on the cup?” Her eyes widened in terror and, strangely, amusement. 

Steve glanced at Eddie, who was now reading his cup in amusement. As he saw Steve’s curious glance, he turned the coffee around, putting Steve’s handwriting into view. 

Steve almost died on the spot. Right there, in Steve’s loopy handwriting, was the word ‘ trouble .’ 

Eddie laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Guess I’ll make sure to bring trouble back around.” 

Steve knew at that moment he had stirred up more than sugar in Eddie’s cup.

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

Read the rest of Steve and Eddie's story on ao3

A peek at my first contribution to @strangerthingsreversebigbang and contains lovely art made by my friend @sunflowerharrington

[xzhdjsj]

WELCOME

Helloo my pookies♡ I'm sugar or Ann! I'm 18, and I use she/her pronouns! I'm also - nana's wife - millie's numero uno pookie

Sometimes I feel like an old person on this site and idk wtf I'm doing BUTT I'll be using this blog to post sakuverse related content! So fics, those cute little text chains and just random stuff yk?

Keep in mind that my fics aren't the best, but I wanna get better at writing! That's the main reason I created this blog!

My requests and dms are always open because I LOVE TO TALK! If you guys ever wanna request anything, have any ideas, advice or you just want to talk feel free to pop on in! I don't bite (unless you want me to-) and I'd love to have some friends here🫶

Please let's be friends🙏

Rules!

- I write gender neutral reader fics (unless you request otherwise ofc!)

- I can write NSFW for gn reader or fem reader! (not my best area tho)

- Got an angsty request? GIMME

♡ MLIST

more about me under the cut!

About Me

I found to saku's channel in late 2022, and the first vid I saw was Andrewww! Ever since I've been a hugeeee fan and I absolutely love the sakuverse! I've been lurking for the majority of time, but I realised there wasn't much written content for this fandom and I decided to make some myself!

Besides that, I also like

ANIME! I've been watching anime for years! Some of my favourites are Banana Fish, Jjk, AOT and HxH! I also watch animated series like Arcane and Hazbin Hotel!

GAMES! I play Genshin Impact, HSR (sometimes), and I'm currently playing the Resident Evil games!

MUSIC! I will listen to literally anything! (Arctic Monkeys, Kali Uchis, Sleep Token, etc etc) OH AND I'm also a Kpop fan! I loveee Ateez, BTS, Stray Kids and more!

ART! I LOVE ART SO SOOO MUCH but I've been in a constant state of art block for about 4 years now🧍‍♀️IT SUCKS but for now I'll stick to appreciating the wonderful art created by you guys!

BOOKS! Reading is a more recent hobby of mine but I don't have much time for it due to my uni schedule :(

Speaking of uni, I'm a university student. I study biology! I LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE animals, and I've been told that I'm kind of a nerd🧍‍♀️

That being said, unfortunately, content on my blog might be slow updating, but I'll do my best to keep it entertaining!

Yes this is a lot but I did say I love to yap so-😭

~Ann ♡

[xxsycamore]

Hey friend! For the mlm prompts, if the free day prompt hasn't been taken yet, I'd like to request Sirius x Harr with a Teacher AU. If your feeling up to it, Lancelot can come play too, but he's not required if not.

Leave it to Krys to think up a good prompt for the free day!! Thank you so much for this, I still remember the cozy morning when I drafted this! Oh, Lancelot definitely can come play too.

[ 🌈 part of the character x character or genderbent!character x mc requests🌈 ]

For Different Universe, Same Love creative challenge, hosted by @queengiuliettafirstlady and me.

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐔 ┅┅┅Sirius x Harr x Lancelot

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫

When Sirius pushes open the door of the principal's office, the familiar intense aroma of rich black coffee flies to his nostrils and he already knows, for sure:

"Oh Harr, you're here too. Hello. And hello, Lance."

The blonde-haired man relaxes back in his office chair, putting down the document he's been reading through, offering a greeting back to Sirius just as Harr does. Still, a heavy sigh fills the room the very next second.

"Those brats just refuse to at least try and focus during this time of the year. Classes are turned to chaos."

Something is pushed into Sirius' hands, and he accepts it without thinking twice because of the risk of spilling its scorching contents. When he looks up, he finds a chaste but knowing smile on Harr's face.

"Here, take my cup. I'll make myself another. We drink it the same, after all."

It's no wonder that Harr sympathizes with him, not having it any easier on his end in Magic Crystal Usage class, especially considering the safety risk when presented with a room full of absent-minded students who are counting the days until the end of the school year.

"It's true, we drink it the same. Unlike a certain someone who prefers to put so many sugar cubes, we can take it to Mr. Ash's laboratory to study it for poison."

"Sirius, enough."

The widening smile on Sirius' face blooms into a short but hearty laughter that prevents him from taking the long-anticipated first sip - but even after he's ready to immerse himself in it, he finds another reason to pause.

"Lance, I'll show you how me and Harr sweeten our coffees without any health risks. Watch closely."

The hand that lands on Harr's cheek is warm and gentle when it turns him to face the taller man, and along with those words, it should be enough of a warning sign. Yet Harr's surprise manifests as a small gasp on the plush lips of Sirius when they clash into his, his mouth now agape and inviting for the seemingly innocent demonstration. It's all up to Sirius to take advantage of it or not, and his pent-up aggravation dictates a need to deepen the kiss. This time for the stress relief qualities it bears, not for the bitterness of his coffee.

"Indeed, why haven't I thought sooner of this?"

Lance's voice breaks through the haze, and his lovers only now realize that he got up from his chair and approached them. Sirius' hand remains on Harr's face, almost protectively, in stark contrast with the inviting look in his eyes.

"Now, don't steal my sugar. Find your own."

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