#tw: food mention

[allelitewrestlings]

#eddie kingston #wrestlingedit #aewedit #aew #aew wrestledream #event: wrestledream #roh world championship #strong openweight championship #aew x roh #aew x njpw #ours: gifs #maker: s #* #tw: food mention

[statusexile]

[tw: sploshing, food play/kink, food insertion, anal, ass eating, nasty shit in general idc don’t read if you’re easily disgusted]

Konig is probably the type of guy who would love to experiment with food during sex. You’re his kinky younger girlfriend and probably the one who introduced him to all these fetishes and kinks he never heard of. But he loves you so much so he’ll probably say yes to anything you want. He’s in his early forties, he needs someone to spice up his sex life and you’re the perfect girl for him!

It started out pretty tame. Probably with you swirling some whipped cream on his abs, sometimes with honey, maybe some chocolate and strawberry syrup as well and lick it off of his body. The sticky, sweet concoction dripped down his chiseled torso as your tongue eagerly lapped it up, sending shivers of pleasure through his body and giving him a massive erection.

The next time you did it, you viciously drizzle chocolate syrup and whipped cream all over his thick nine-inch uncut cock, the sugary mixture mixing with his pre-cum and it drips down on his groin area. You hungrily engulf his throbbing shaft, your mouth a dripping mess of cream and chocolate as you eagerly slobber all over it. And when he finally cum, he shoots his warm, thick cum mixed with the concoction down your throat.

This time, it’s time to take it to the next level. Your body trembles with anticipation as you present yourself to him, offering your ass up for his pleasure. He grabs your ass with a force, bending you over a table and inserting half a stick of butter into your pulsating asshole slowly. His eyes are filled with raw lust as he watches your ass cheeks quiver, trying desperately to keep the slick butter from slipping out of your tight hole.

Konig brutally thrusts his massive cock into your tight asshole, the butter still churning inside as he fucked you rapidly. The slickness of the butter makes it easier for him to slide in and out, leaving you feeling used and violated as he claims you with every rough thrust as the butter begins to slowly melt and dripped out, coating his balls and the floor in a slick mess. Your tight hole began to convulse and clamp down as it releases streams of melted butter mixed with his cum. His filthy mouth greedily lapping up every drop, tasting the rich, creamy taste as it squirts out from your asshole. What a depraved little couple both of you are. <3

#i really don't understand why people is calling konig a babygirl he's a fucking FREAK in my eyes and i will stand on that ground #also this is my kink and no you can't kink shame me <3 #shaf brainrots #konig x reader smut #könig x reader #könig #könig x reader smut #konig #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty smut #cod mw2 smut #call of duty #tw: food play #tw: food mention #tw: dark content #cod mw2

[headcanonsandmore]

Bisexuals are crushing on him. Straight men want to befriend him. Lesbians see him as their blorbo. Asexuals think he’s neater than, like, a whole jar of peanut butter. Half his enemies are also crushing on him. His bonded honourspren is concerned about his mental health. Local queen and various lighteyes can’t stand him. His thirty soul-brothers just want him to be happy. 

#kaladin #kaladin stormblessed #cosmere #stormlight archive #the stormlight archive #just in case anyone's wondering; yes the bisexuals in question are adolin and shallan #tw: food mention #i love kaladin stormblessed a normal amount

[delopsia]

Conquer Your Demons | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 3,300 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, demon!Rhett, food mentions, unprotected sex, blatantly defiling a church, cunnilingus, mild cum eating, post-coital cuddles. Usage of the Standing Amazon Position in the beginning (in case my description was too vague)🧡 Perry Abbott is on fire. Brief Summary: Fuck, you hope nobody comes to check in on how this whole cleansing process is going. Because there is nothing that can possibly explain the sight of a demon on his knees, eating you out on the altar. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm—"

"It's a little bit late for that, don't you think?" You hum, voice echoing, bouncing off the bare walls of this old, one-room church. Ricocheting through unoccupied, dusty pews and rattling up into the rafters. Built centuries ago, has been witness to hundreds of Sunday sermons, weddings, and funerals.

But never has it been witness to something like this. 

"No, no, no, please," Rhett's sweaty chest heaves, keening high in his throat, your cunt clamping down around his twitching cock like a vice. His ankles quiver against your shoulders, fluttering like leaves in a bracing breeze. "I'll be good. I'll be good."

His tail thrashes between your legs, smacking against your thighs. Horns knocking into the wooden table as his head rolls back and forth, trying to shake you away like a bed dream. Skin glistening in the dancing candlelight, muscles rippling, flexing as he squirms. Your fingertips pinch at a soft nipple, awestruck by how his back arches, jolting up from the edge of the table. 

"You should have thought of that before you tried to kill Pastor Perry," your greedy hands run across his burning skin. Roaming the vast expanse of his upper body, tickling down his sides, feeling the subtle grooves of his ribcage. So perfectly compressed, knees mere inches away from being pressed up against his chest, powerless to let you have your way with him and his cock. 

Your shoes click against the floor as you raise yourself up, knees straightening to allow yourself the room to reach down to where your bodies meet. 

"That bastard had it comin'—aa!" His hissed words cut short by the gentle squeeze of your hand around his balls. A poorly concealed warning. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

And you really should be giving him more hell for that. Make him lay still while you press his pale knees into his chest and make him beg you to move. Completely, utterly powerless in this position. 

But you can't focus, not with the way the pale undersides of his thighs tremble beneath your palms. Already pushed to his limits, and you've just sunk down onto him less than two minutes ago. 

"Are you close already, cowboy?" You coo, squeezing the meat of his thighs in your hands, feeling how they flex in your grasp. 

His hair shakes as he nods his head with a whimper of a "uhuh." Those pretty blue eyes falling shut, breathy noises whittling out of his throat with every breath. 

For a demon, he sure looks like an angel. 

Sounds like it too. 

"But I haven't even gotten started with you yet," your words whiny, bottom lip jutting out to create a false pout, feigning disappointment. 

Stradling him in this position is difficult. Riding him would have been a much easier solution, and your knees surely would have thanked you for it, but there's something about this that has your heart speeding up. Rhett fucking Abbott. The deity that's been haunting Wabang for the past six years, on his back, thighs to his chest, whimpering as you begin to move. Working yourself up and down his cock that's peeking so prettily from between his thighs. 

Pearly white teeth glint in the light as his mouth falls open, unable to shut it. "Thank you, thank...thank—" your fingers delve between his lips. Unfearing as they spread out, dancing past razor-sharp canines. A short, hot tongue laps against them, twisting between each digit, sucking lazily.

"Look at you," you're musing aloud, unable to keep yourself quiet as you find your pace. Button-down shirt clinging to your overheated skin, sweat brought on by the way his leaking cock head drills up into you. The gentle curve allowing him to drag so wondrously against your g-spot, the little bundle of nerves tingling with every touch. "Aren't you supposed to be scary, cowboy?"

Those horns bump into the sides of the table once more, his head thrashing, unable to do anything more than just that. Tries to speak, but the fingers in his mouth muffle him, intelligible words vibrating through your hand and up into your arm.

"What would the townsfolk think if they saw you like this?" You're painfully aware of what your words are doing to him, those midnight blue eyes flashing open, only for them to roll back into his head. Such a sight that only serves to send a wave of heat between your legs. "The big bad demon, getting fucked in the only church in town?" 

Oh, how you can hear the town gossip now. The same gaggle of ladies, aghast as they discuss the sins committed atop the altar. Fanning their faces with their hands and speaking as if they are higher than thou.

Their loss. 

Because you are the only person who gets to experience this. 

The sweet burn in your thighs as you ride him, hips working in their favorite, languid rhythm. Your head fuzzy with the way his thick cock fills you, rubbing past every little sensitive area, nerves alight. Saliva coats your hand, shimmering beneath the candlelight like it's trying to put on a show.

"Baby, you're drooling everywhere..." pulling your dripping fingers from his mouth in favor of seizing him by the jaw. Two days' worth of unshaven scruff scratching at your skin.

Rhett's body jerks upward, snapping up into your cunt with a strength he shouldn't have. "M' gonna...baby..." His arms wind around his thighs, pulling them from your shoulders and up against his chest. Squeezing them tight, like he needs something to keep him from bursting. 

"Close already, pretty boy?" Dropping from his jaw, your hand roams down his neck. Doesn't stop until your wet fingertips find a dusky pink nipple, pinching it, if only to see him jolt.

Those pretty curls bounce as he nods his head, "Uhuh." So weak and breathy. Punctuated by a choked whimper.

"Come on then," taunting, fighting to keep your own voice level. You can already feel the way he's beginning to twitch inside of you, bumping up into those little nerves. "Cum in me like a good boy."

One of his hands snaps up. Clamping down over his mouth just in time to muffle what sounds like a squeal. Suddenly afraid to hear his own noises. Palm trembling like a leaf. Jittery. So out of control that there's not a bit of resistance when you reach up to pull it away. 

"You can do it, come on," you can't catch your own breath. Fuck, it's like he was designed to get you worked up. Your body hard to control as your walls flutter around his cock, spasming with something that makes your eyes unfocus. 

A cry catches in Rhett's throat. Cut off by the sudden convulsion of his hips, cumming with a silent noise that rattles through your ears. Familiar heat spills inside of you, his eyelashes fluttering like butterflies. 

Oh, he's so pretty like this. Face lax, almost peaceful. Until it's not. Scrunching shut, nose wrinkling, a string of confused whimpers sputtering past his thin lips. Because you're still moving. Bringing yourself up, only to sink back down on his softening cock, uncaring of the growing discomfort.

"What's the matter, cowboy?" You tease, your hands hooking beneath the backs of his knees, unwilling to let them fall off to the sides. 

"Can't," his voice unusually pitchy, "Sensitive—!" 

You can feel it. The way he twitches with your every movement. Too overstimulated to handle anything more but unable to wriggle away from it. His hands clamp down over top of yours, squeezing, needs to hang onto something. 

"You can take it," you don't know if it's meant to be encouragement or a reminder, but you're saying it regardless, "You've done it before."

That little bull tail of his is swishing between your thighs, smacking against the sensitive skin there on its own accord. He's lucky you can't reach down and squeeze it at the base, hold it down until he gives you what you want. 

There's a newfound ache in your knees as you begin to move quicker, chasing the feeling of his spent cock working in and out of you. Seeking that little spot that he's no longer hitting. Cum spilling out, running down your thighs, and falling to the hardwood floor.

"Baby, baby, please I—" his tongue loose in his mouth, "I'm—I'm sorry!" 

Too little too late. 

He should have thought of the consequences when he decided to knock that candle onto pastor Perry's coattails and set him ablaze in the middle of service. No matter how you twist it, such an act doesn't qualify as a mild haunting. A little something spooky that remains harmless. 

Your body twitches, exhausted muscles acting on their own accord. The blunt head of his weeping cock bumps into a familiar, sensitive spot. Has your pussy tightening around him like a vice, ripping that wail right out of his chest. 

"Gonna..." that deep voice of his babbles. His mouth still moving, but not a sound coming out. 

"Already?" Fuck, it's hard to feign disappointment when he looks up at you with those watery eyes. Tears welling but not quite spilling over. Not yet. 

Long gone is his composure. His ability to remain quiet. Reduced to breathy whimpers and grunts punctuated by the lewd smack of skin on skin. And maybe some of those noises are coming from you, too, because there's a rawness in your throat that wasn't there before. Gasping for air, can't seem to get enough of it. Sweat beading at your forehead. 

He knocks into that spongey spot inside by pure luck. Your dripping cunt squeezing him for all he's worth, eager for more, more, more. And he's got no choice but to lay back and give it to you. 

You don't realize he's cumming until you feel the pitiful twitch of his cock. His body going still as tears tumble down his flushed cheeks, decades worth of strong muscle contracting, back rising up from the table one more time. Mouth moving around the familiar shape of your name, but not a sound leaving his throat.

"Plaid," Rhett's voice cracks on the vowels. Shattering like glass. "Plaid, plaid, plaid—"

You're already pulling off of him. Numb feet stumbling as you finally, finally change your stance. Standing upright, soothing your clammy palms over his soft thighs. 

"Too much?" Something pops in your neck as you lean down to press a kiss to his knee, scarred from that time he got spritzed with holy water. So much for him being invincible.

His horns thunk against the edge of the table, eyes unfocused as he mouths something you can't hear. "Want..." but he doesn't finish his sentence. Leaving his thought dangling in the air as he squirms, sweaty skin gleaming in the light, fumbling up to his own two feet. 

"Rhett?" You don't understand what he's trying to do, but he's planting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you up against the corner of the altar. Uncaring of the way the sharp corner digs into your skin or of your repeating of his name.

"Want..." he repeats. 

Rhett's knees thunk against the floor, the deep noise shaking these old church walls. Nose bumping into your thigh as he leans forward, eyes closed, blindly nuzzling his face between your legs. 

Oh. 

That wet tongue licks a fat stripe between your folds, serves to stifle his whimper as he settles against you. Drool pours from his thin lips as he twirls over your clit, too lazy, too eager to spend his time working you up.

"Good lord, Rhett," your words carried by a whispy gasp, reaching down to grab hold of those study horns. None of this is what you had in mind, but as he peeks up at you, lips wrapping around your swollen clit, you can't bring yourself to care about what should have been. "Is this what you were wanting?" 

His answer comes in the form of big hands grasping the backs of your thighs, not letting you squirm away as he nuzzles impossibly closer. That tongue of his rubs back and forth, the scruff of his cheek rubbing against you. Tiny, wet sounds, viciously loud. 

Fuck, you hope nobody comes to check in on how this whole cleansing process is going. 

Because there is nothing that can possibly explain the sight of a demon on his knees, eating you out on the altar. His spent, soft cock resting against his thigh, cum staining the insides of your thighs. Your pants have likely fallen into the seventh circle of hell by now, never to be seen again.

That burning mouth of his sinks lower, tail swishing behind him as he pushes his tongue into you without warning. Unphased of the mess he's left there, languidly working in and out of your pussy, soft noises emanating from the back of his throat. The tip of his nose nudges your clit with each and every motion. Enough to have you squirming, pulling on his horns. Unsure of if you want more or less.

"Y'taste so good," he's speaking right into you, each syllable rattling up your fragile core. Fuck, fuck, fuck, when did his voice get so deep? 

It's difficult to miss that pleased grin, poorly masked by your dripping sex, as he pulls his tongue from you. Licking his way up up up to your clit once more. A dull tingle appears as he twirls over top of it, not sure if it's brought on by the act itself or the way he whimpers when your hips jolt forward.

"Cum on my face," he breathes, punctuated by an honorary pause to suck on that swollen little button once more. Can't keep himself away for more than a few seconds at a time. Such a simple thing that shouldn't have you trembling the way that it does. "Please cum on my face." 

Deep in your chest, your heart flutters. Weakly battering against your rib cage as that tingling spreads, skin pricking with it, a twisting heat blooming between your legs. And Rhett's pressing harder, whining your name, and it's too much. Too much. 

One, two, three more flicks of his tongue, and your head is tilting back. Pulling hard on those soft horns as you cum with a cry that rattles through every square foot of this old church. Hips convulsing as he licks you through it, oversensitive, but your head so far up in the clouds that you can't remember how to speak. 

Your lungs are burning.

So are your knees. Crumbling out from under you without warning or notice. 

The big arms that catch you are the only reason you don't hit the floor with an earth-shattering boom. Pulling you away from the cold hardwood and into a sweaty, sticky chest. 

Getting back up would be the wiser option; go back home before anyone decides to pop in, hoping for a glimpse of the supernatural, but you're all out of good ideas for today. Scooting until your back rests against the wallpaper-clad wall, welcoming a rosy-cheeked cowboy into your arms.

"I didn't mean..." Rhett's horns knock against your shoulder as he settles. Such pretty things, pearly white in color, once the classic steer shape, now cut short by the hands of his own kin. "Didn't mean to...I didn't think the fire would..."

"I know," you whisper, your hands curling into his hair. "But you can't be doing things like that, Rhett." He could use a good bath, but you hardly mind the salty bite of sweat as you press a kiss to his forehead. 

There's something sweet about the way that he squirms even closer, seeking refuge in the crook of your neck. Like he thinks that making himself small enough will erase the theatrics that was earlier today. The yelling. The screaming. The arguing over which hunter to call. 

Rhett's soft purr almost gets you to shut up. Almost. "Do you know how bad things could have gotten if they called the Tillerson Twins instead of me?" 

"Could move towns again," he murmurs like he's given this some thought. Has had plenty of time to, being locked up in this place all damn afternoon. 

"Yes, but what happens when someone realizes that the hauntings only occur where I live?" That's the last thing that you need. For someone to poke their nose where it doesn't belong and realize that these events follow your every move. Realize that you're actively working with a demon to make a living, scaring folks into paying your hefty fee to cleanse their home. 

"Ain't no-one fixin' to figure us out," Rhett's head tilts, leaning up to press a kiss to your jaw. The uneven edge of his horn bumps into your ear. Scratchy. "They think demons eat people, remember?" 

Your chest rises and falls with a giggle. "In some forms of the phrase, they're not wrong."

The whites of Rhett's eyes flash. Rolling back into his head. 

You hope they get stuck.

"Funny," one of his scarred hands raise, wiping at his chin, still soaked from his efforts. 

Without rhyme or reason, you're reaching out, taking hold of that strong, prickly jaw. Watching how he lets you tilt and turn his head, not the slightest hint of resistance. Your thumb presses against his lips, and they part, humming as you pin his wriggling tongue to the bottom of his mouth. Completely and utterly pliant.

Cute.

"I say," speaking with your thumb still in his mouth, sucking on it during its retreat, "that y'let me haunt that cute lil' bakery down the road." 

"I'm not letting you rob a bakery blind," you groan, head thunking back against the wall. It always circles back to the restaurants and the cute little bakeries. Like he doesn't get enough from licking the cookie dough off the spoon and quietly bugging you for bites of the dinner, he said he didn't want.

"Come on!" There's that whine of his, batting those thick lashes up at you. If he could, he'd be forcing tears to well in those deep blue eyes. "We get paid, and we get free donuts!" 

Tempting. But contrary to the popular belief of the public, you still cling to a few of your morals. And that includes not causing a pastry crisis in Wabang."I'll buy you a dozen when I pay our rent tomorrow." 

With a huff, Rhett falls back into your chest. Dramatic. "Fine," but you can hear the smile in his voice. A little bit excited. 

You need to get going. The first of the birds are beginning to chirp, and with them, sunrise is sure to come. Bringing life back to the streets of Wabang and prying eyes who won't take too kindly to the swishing tail and short horns of a demon walking amongst them. 

But he's so warm. 

All swollen muscles and soft grumbles, snuggling up like you're his favorite pillow. Content to lay here forever, with his ear listening to the quiet thump of your heart and feeling your hands roam up and down his spine. And quite frankly, you're content to stay here too. Even if the hard floor is making your ass go numb.

"Your method could use some work," Rhett yawns, rubbing his cheek against you, trying to burrow himself closer, "my back hurts."

Well, in that case... "That just cost you a donut." 

His head snaps up. Eyes wide. "You wouldn't."

"I would," defiantly sticking to your guns. 

You have a half second to scramble to your feet before Rhett is pouncing on you. All giggles and empty threats as he fumbles after you, chasing your half-naked form down the aisle. Tearing around corners and ducking between pews, hastily searching for clothes that you don't remember taking off.

"I'm gonna get you!" Rhett's only got one boot on. The other flailing in his hand as he races out the front doors, hot on your tail. 

And get you he will.

If he can ever catch you, that is. 

#rhett abbott #outer range #x reader #self insert #rhett abbott x reader #oneshot #outer range amazon #reader self insert #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fanfiction #tw: perry abbott #tw: food mention

[smellslikefeathers]

... Do you think Papyrus knew he was on a date with an eldritch being in the guise of a child, a.k.a. The Player? Was he aware and yet tried to make us happy anyway?

On another subject... in Deltarune... I wonder if I should have let Kris and Susie eat the chocolates... I wonder if Kris is mad at me... I wonder if that's worth writing a sequel to one of my fanfics...

#undertale #papyrus the skeleton #deltarune #deltarune kris #deltarune susie #chocolate #tw: food mention #in a video game #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[tum-bakery]

Heard you like soup. Do you like it enough to see God?

WHEN I TELL YOU I NEARLY BURST OUT IN SHOCKED LAUGHER SEEING THIS-

Anyways, yeah I do love soup that much, it looks yummy and chunky cambells is one of my fav comfort foods. I've already got my choice words picked out for when I get to meet the man upstairs, and I know what local grocer sells this soup.

I will reblog with updates.

#Don't threaten me with a good time #I don't think cambells has the balls to hurt me #And if they do it'll be a funny story lmaoo #tw: food mention #bakershutit

[blood-and-pizza]

They changed the contents for the FNAF Recipe Book, including (but not limited to) giving Roxanne's Fully Loaded Hotdog to Glamrock Freddy instead. I think the people behind the book saw Twitter's responses... what a shame!

#fnaf #fnaf books #official fnaf cookbook #freddy fazbear #chica the chicken #foxy the pirate fox #bonnie the bunny #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #tw: food mention

[queer-as-in-slightly-odd]

pls reblog so other people can take part!

#polls #poll #tw: food #tw: food mention

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

ch. 4: A Safe Place to Land- Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 5.6k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.

Warnings: so much angst, panic attack, not taking care of oneself? related food mention, more angst, sexy time mentions (but no actual smut), alcohol mention, cursing, men are the worst, overuse of italics

a/n: hi y'all! thank u all for the patience & love you've shown this series <3 ngl, this chapter was hard to write bc of the subject matter & all that but i'm really happy w how it turned out! i listened to "Salt In The Wound" from boygenius on repeat while writing this chapter, i HIGHLY recommend giving it a listen. also--my toxic trait is naming my villain-esque original characters after people who’ve done me dirty personally. voila captain ethan was born :)

series master list | master list

On Bob’s birthday, the squadron threw a small party for him on base. It was nothing major–just a small party with his closest friends, quiet and lowkey–just how he liked it. Impromptu party rooms were few and far between on base, so they set up in a Top Gun classroom that wasn’t being used at the moment.

y/n was wandering around the halls in search of the classroom, balancing a cake box in one hand and her phone in the other. Though Rooster texted her specific directions to the room, she felt like she was trapped in a labyrinth. Screw the security system and guards spread throughout the building, the confusing layout was enough to disorient anyone who didn’t belong. 

A stray balloon that escaped from a room at the end of the hall served as y/n’s personal beacon. She was working the night shift at the emergency room that night, so she couldn’t stay long at the party. She at least wanted to say hi to everyone and wish Bob a happy birthday before she left for the hospital.

Halfway down the hall, y/n was stopped in her tracks when a familiar face turned the corner. Tall, dark, and handsome as ever stood Captain Ethan Richards. y/n shuddered at the sight of him, a stark contrast to the attraction she felt just a few months ago. She prayed that her ex would walk in the opposite direction, would turn around, do anything except see her down the hall. There was nowhere for her to hide while he passed, so she stood in the hallway like a sitting duck. As luck would have it, he glanced back in her direction and did a double take.

Whatever the Captain had set out to do in the building was forgotten as he stalked toward y/n like a predator hunting its prey. y/n gulped and tried to school her deer-caught-in-headlights expression. Ethan didn’t deserve to see her so vulnerable. He didn’t deserve to see her at all.

“y/n, what a nice surprise!” Ethan greeted with a grin.

“Ethan.” y/n’s response was curt and accompanied by a tight-lipped frown. Ethan let his eyes drag down y/n’s scrub-clad body. A few months ago, she would’ve felt flattered. Now she just felt dirty. His eyes lingered on the cake box in her hands for a moment.

“You always were so good at baking. Mind if I try a bite, sweetcheeks?” The innuendo and his hungry stare made y/n nauseous. Her frown deepened. Ethan, evidently unsatisfied by her reaction, decided to change tactics. y/n watched his face harden and thought that he could’ve served his country much more effectively in Guantánamo Bay. Never in y/n’s life had anyone been able to get under her skin like this.

Ethan was smart and observant, she had to give him that. Between the lone balloon down the hall, the cake in y/n’s hands that read Happy Birthday Bob! and the distant lively voices of Top Gun’s best squadron, he pieced together what y/n was here for.

“You sleeping through a whole squadron now? I saw you getting cozy with Bradshaw, Machado, and Seresin at The Hard Deck,” Ethan’s voice was low and sinister as he stepped toward her. Everything in y/n screamed at her to take a step back and get away from him, but she stood her ground. His accusation took her aback, there was no denying that, but she refused to be bested by him.

“You would know what that’s like, wouldn’t you?” y/n jabbed, her voice cold. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a look of hurt flash across Ethan’s eyes but it was gone a second later. His jaw ticked in frustration. Ethan could always dish it out, but he wasn’t as good at taking it.

A cruel smile overtook his face before he made his next remark. y/n braced herself. She knew his words would seek to cut through her like a knife, but nothing could’ve prepared her for what he said.

“At least I was able to return your engagement ring. That wasn’t cheap, sweetheart. Unlike you, apparently,” Ethan tutted and rocked on his heels. He looked satisfied when y/n’s face dropped. She was certain a punch straight to the gut would’ve hurt less than his revelation. Now that stopped y/n in her tracks. She was at a loss for words. She couldn’t even manage a pathetic sputter as her eyes widened in shock.

He was going to propose? y/n was lost in thought. The worst part was that she knew she would’ve said yes. Before she found him cheating, she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with Ethan. She made a secret wedding board on Pinterest. She started brainstorming baby names after they celebrated their year-and-a-half anniversary.

Rooster checked his wristwatch. y/n was supposed to arrive 10 minutes ago. It was plausible that she got lost, but something in his gut told him something was wrong. He excused himself from the party and made his way out into the hallway. Rooster was surprised to see Captain Richards facing away from him just down the hall; as far as Bradley knew, the captain had no business being around Top Gun’s section of the base. Bradley couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed when Richards shifted to the side, his tall frame no longer hiding y/n from Rooster’s view.

Rooster set off towards the two with long deliberate strides. He had no plan of what to say or do when he approached them, but y/n’s color-drained face was enough to have him moving fast. Once Rooster stood just feet away, the sight of y/n’s wide eyes and white-knuckle grip on the cake box had him on the defensive.

“Is everything okay out here?” Rooster asked with as much authority as he could muster. The lieutenant hoped his worry didn’t seep into his tone, but his focus on y/n and y/n alone gave him away. Ethan smirked as he glanced between Bradley and y/n. y/n was doing her best not to cower as she stood in a daze with her lips pressed into a thin line. Bradley, on the other hand, was laser-focused and struggling to hide his bubbling anger.

“Just fine, lieutenant. I was just leaving. Bye, sweetheart,” Ethan delivered a condescending wink and licked his lips before leaving. A moment of silence passed as y/n stared holes into Ethan’s back until he turned down a corridor hidden from her view. Rooster’s wild eyes darted across y/n’s face while she was still trapped in her daze. The aviator had never seen her so shaken in their months of knowing each other.

When Ethan was far out of sight and earshot, y/n slowly turned towards Bradley. She could hardly look him in the eye as she wordlessly handed over the cake. Confusion etched its way across Rooster’s face when y/n took a step back towards the door instead of toward the party.

“Tell Bob I said happy birthday,” y/n voice was quiet as she looked down at the ground and turned to leave. Rooster gently grabbed her wrist before she could walk away.

“y/n, are you okay? Did he say something?” y/n bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Rooster’s worried eyes and delicate touch were enough to have her tearing up as his question went unanswered. y/n cleared her throat and met his eyes, unable to hide the unshed tears in her own.

“I have to go. I’m gonna be late for work,” y/n said flatly. She was honestly surprised that her voice didn’t betray her and let her emotions spill out everywhere. Before Bradley could stop her again, she tugged her arm out of his grip and quickly made her way towards the exit. Rooster stood in the hallway alone with a homemade cake in hand as he watched her go, looking like a lost puppy.

A few twisted turns later, y/n finally saw a red exit sign hanging above an exterior door. This too felt like a beacon, but for an entirely different reason. She haphazardly burst through the doors and made her way towards the parking lot on unsteady legs. Air couldn’t seem to fill her lungs enough as she took shallow heaves, her shoulders shaking from the motion. y/n couldn’t hold in the sobs that wracked through her body once she was in her car. Her uncontrolled breathing punctuated the onset of a panic attack. 

y/n got upset countless times over the past few months about her breakup, but she hadn’t had a panic attack like this since she walked in on Ethan with his mistress in their bed. She suspected that also had to do with the fact that this was the first time she spoke to Ethan face-to-face since before the move. The last time she was within arms reach of her ex was when they broke up. y/n cringed as she remembered how she yelled at him with red-rimmed eyes and a packed duffle bag slung over her shoulder as she shoved their house key against his chest.

After 20 minutes of unsuccessfully trying to clean herself up and regain a semblance of composure, y/n called in sick for work. Her manager didn’t ask questions–y/n’s congested voice and sniffles were enough of an explanation–and y/n didn’t give answers.

y/n was M.I.A. for two days. No calls, no texts, and a missed work shift. Shitty reality TV played in the background while y/n ate a tub of ice cream, surrounded by tear-stained tissues in her bed. She looked like a mess, but nothing could compare to how she felt inside.

Rooster knew y/n slept through most of the day following her night shifts. As far as he knew, she went to work that night. But it wasn’t like her to go more than a few hours without answering texts. So when a few hours turned into a day and then a day and a half, and his calls went unanswered for the fourth time, Rooster went to visit y/n at her house.

y/n heard muffled knocking at her door from underneath her duvet and several blankets. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and even if she were, she still had no intention of getting out of bed. The turning of the door lock and squeaky hinges had her sitting up straight in bed. No one had a key to her house. Was someone breaking in? y/n frantically searched for her phone amidst her bed covers, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Heavy footsteps made their way down the hall and y/n’s shaky thumb hovered over Rooster’s phone number before a voice spoke out.

“y/n/n, are you in there? It’s me,” Bradley’s voice was gentle but could be heard clearly through the door. y/n let out a sigh of relief when she recognized the voice. She made a mental note to ask him later about how he managed to unlock the front door. Just as quickly as the relief flooded through her, it was replaced by anxiety. To put it lightly, y/n looked like shit.

“Go away, Roos. I’m fine,” y/n’s words weren’t even slightly believable. She knew Rooster wouldn’t just go away–not after she’d been radio silent for so long and the last time he saw her she practically ran away with tears in her eyes. y/n tried to make herself look as presentable as she could after spending forty-some hours in bed. Her attempts were pretty fruitless; she just barely managed to smooth down her hair, but there wasn’t much she could do about her mascara-tear-stained cheeks.

Rooster gave a soft knock before he opened her bedroom door, letting light from the hallway spill into her darkened room. His eyes adjusted to the light difference while he took in the bags under y/n’s puffy eyes and mascara streaks across her face. His heart broke at her disheveled state.

y/n shied away from his gaze; she didn’t want him to see her so weak. Bradley had never seen her seem so small. As he moved towards her bed, he reminisced on the first day they met, when y/n was taking care of him at his bedside.

When y/n still wouldn’t look at him, Bradley reached out and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest when she saw the worry filling his eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was drag this perfect man into her bullshit. Her life was messy, especially now, and he didn’t deserve that.

y/n tucked herself against Bradley’s body when he outstretched his arms, beckoning her towards him. He rubbed circles against her back and softly smiled when he realized the fabric separating their skin was a shirt of his that went missing a few weeks ago. Her legs were unsteady from lack of use, but Rooster was unfazed (after all, this wasn’t the first time he supported y/n on wobbly legs, especially after certain activities).

“Have you had anything to eat?” The words ‘other than ice cream’ were unspoken, but y/n received the message nonetheless. She shook her head wordlessly against his chest.

y/n couldn’t help but crack a smile when Rooster, ever the Navy man, came up with a plan on the spot. He’d go to the kitchen to make y/n dinner and suggested that she do whatever she needed to make her feel better–stretch her legs, splash some water on her face, or lay back down until dinner was ready. y/n murmured “don’t burn down my kitchen,” and relished in the rumble of Bradley’s chest as he chuckled.

Dinner was quiet. Bradley and y/n didn’t speak much. She muttered a quiet thank you towards the end and Rooster nodded appreciatively. Most of all, he was just happy to see her consuming an actual meal after surviving on Ben and Jerry’s alone for the past 48 hours. After dinner, y/n washed the dishes. Rooster insisted that he do it, but y/n argued that she needed to do something after being dormant for two days. She left out the fact that she mostly just wanted to run her hands under the scalding hot water to feel something.

Neither of them were sure what to do after dinner. y/n stood in front of the sink rigidly and Bradley remained seated hesitantly at the table. The heavy silence was broken when Rooster spoke up after a bout of eye contact.

“I’m here for you,” Bradley cleared his throat before continuing, his eyes never leaving y/n’s. “If you want me to go, I will, but I’ll camp out on the couch all night if you want me to so you’re not alone.” Rooster’s sincere gaze was enough to pull at y/n’s heartstrings. His words even managed to bring a small smile to her face, too.

“This couch is terrible. I’ve ejected from F-18s going warp speed and laying on this sad excuse for a sofa has given me worse back pain,” Rooster groaned during one of their regular movie nights a few weeks ago.

“Maybe you’re just getting old, Brad. Your body can’t bounce back and move the way it used to,” y/n teased with an infectious grin. Rooster scoffed and brought his hand down to slap her ass cheek.

“Last I checked, you weren’t complaining about the way my body moves, Patches,” Bradley quipped back with raised eyebrows. A blush spread across y/n’s cheeks at the insinuation.

“Touché, Bradshaw. Touché.”

y/n bit her lip as she thought. The guilt settled in her chest dissipated at Bradley’s words. The pilot was willing and maybe even wanted to be there for her–that realization both comforted and terrified y/n. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but think that he didn’t deserve to be caught up in her problems. She strongly considered sending him away–even though she really, really didn’t want to–but it was too late to shut him out now. Plus, whether she was ready to admit it or not, she needed him.

The last thing y/n expected was becoming attached to someone, much less another Navy guy, so soon after her breakup regardless of whether or not she was over it.

At this point she truly was–over her breakup, that is. y/n grieved the loss of the relationship and processed everything within a few weeks of her and Ethan calling it quits. Well, more like y/n telling Ethan to go fuck himself and delete her number.

The real reason y/n went through an entire box of tissues and stayed in bed for two days was that Ethan was able to get under her skin, even now. After everything that happened–the whirlwind romance and the promise of a forever love and a future and then the cheating and the breakup–the person who she trusted most and betrayed her the worst was still able to bother her. y/n hated that Ethan still had power over her. And she was angry at herself for that.

With that clusterfuck in mind, y/n still couldn’t quite pinpoint why she spent so much time crying. It was clear she still had some healing to do because Ethan wasn’t worth her tears, not by a long shot.

So, with bated breath, she nodded and accepted Bradley’s offer to stay. Stay. The concept of Bradley staying by her side felt like warm honey for a sore throat. Maybe this could be her remedy. 

For the first time in days, y/n glanced at her appearance in a nearby mirror. Rooster’s shirt looked good on her–something she always teased him about and Rooster agreed, she did look better in his clothes–but everything else was a bit of a mess. y/n stiffened when she realized Rooster was seeing her like this. She was a total mess and he chose to stay.

“Actually, Roos… I, uh, I need to take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” y/n asked shyly. Rooster’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the offer (yes, yes, a thousand times yes) and he stood up faster than he ever had in his life. Rooster knew the last thing on y/n’s mind right then was anything sexual, but she was letting him in. She was letting him close and being vulnerable and that’s something. That’s everything.

The bathroom was dark, illuminated only by the dwindling sunset light streaming through the window and a small night light by the sink. For a while, they stood in silence while Rooster held y/n in his arms and gently swayed them side to side. The warm water and sure beating of Bradley’s heart against her ear soothed y/n, almost enough to make her forget about the past couple of days.

Eventually the shower became productive. y/n’s mascara and salty tear stains washed away with a little bit of soap and the warm water helped ease the pain. Halfway through washing her hair, y/n turned back to look at Rooster. He ceased his massage on her scalp and waited patiently as y/n formed her words.

“Ethan told me he was going to propose. He told me he bought an engagement ring but he returned it after we broke up,” y/n admitted tiredly. Rooster sucked in a breath. Of all the things he might’ve expected y/n to say, that was not one of them. y/n chuckled at Bradley’s reaction. Yeah, that’s how I felt too. After recovering from the initial shock, he searched her face for any indication of how she felt. The limited light made it difficult, so he cautiously asked her how she felt about that. y/n shrugged noncommittally.

“If he had proposed before I found out he cheated, I would’ve said yes. Things were good between us, you know? But there’s no way in hell I’d even think about getting back together with him now. So it’s all kind of pointless to worry about, I guess,” y/n breathed out. It felt good to get that off her chest. Thinking out loud to Bradley for a few minutes in the shower was somehow more productive than the endless thinking she did over the past couple of days. Rooster didn’t push her to say anymore, he just listened intently. He felt a little selfish for the relief that flooded through him when y/n firmly stated she would never get back with Ethan.

The rest of the shower followed a similar pattern: Rooster and y/n worked in tandem to wash her hair and body, they took breaks to let the warm water cascade over her skin, and y/n spoke up every once in a while.

“He basically called me a barrack bunny,” y/n said with a huff. Now that stopped Rooster in his tracks. He ceased the movement of the washcloth against y/n’s back and slowly turned her to face him.

“He said what?” Rooster asked steadily, though a simmering rage began brewing inside him. y/n recognized his anger. Over the past few months, she’d gotten pretty good at picking up on his emotions–he was still a man after all and had a complex relationship with displaying emotions outwardly. It was clear to y/n that his anger wasn’t directed toward her, but rather at Ethan, and she was tired of covering for him.

y/n took a deep breath before explaining that Ethan must have seen how she interacted with the squadron the first night she met everyone at The Hard Deck. y/n and Rooster made no efforts to hide the way they cozied up to each other that night; Coyote frequently referred to y/n by ‘home girl’ and gave her fist bumps; and Hangman even managed to pull y/n into a hug before he left.

Rooster stood lost in thought while y/n rinsed the remaining soap from her body. He scoffed at the thought that someone with Ethan’s track record would judge anyone else’s possible sexual escapades. As Bradley helped y/n wrap a towel around her body, he firmly decided that the next time he saw Captain Ethan Richards off-base, Rooster would give the man a black eye.

Bradley wiped the steam fog from the bathroom mirror so y/n could do her skincare routine. Rooster learned just how important this regimen was to her on two occasions. The first was an impromptu spa night she roped him into. y/n didn’t force Rooster to paint his nails with her, but she did treat him to a sheet mask. Rooster would never admit it to his fellow aviators, but he especially enjoyed the bath she let him join; the soothing warm water ebbing at their skin was complimented by bath oils, a bath fizzy, candles, and some well-deserved glasses of wine.

The second time Rooster found out the value y/n placed in her skincare was during one of their many sleepovers at her house.

Rooster was pulled from his post-nut daze when he felt the mattress shifting beside him. y/n tiptoed to the bathroom and began quietly digging through her cabinets.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Rooster called out and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His voice was rough and riddled with exhaustion, but his curiosity and desire to have y/n cuddled by his side got the best of him. She knocked over a bottle in surprise when she heard his voice.

“Sorry, Roos! I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m just doing my skincare routine.”

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face and pulled his brows together.

“We literally just screwed for almost two hours straight and you’re worried about putting on lotion?” Bradley’s voice came out with an incredulous deadpan.

“If you’re gonna keep me up all night, I need to at least apply my eye cream, Bradshaw.”

Bradley stood with his chest pressed against y/n’s back, his arms linked around her waist. He let her be for the most part and pressed intermittent kisses to her exposed neck. y/n pulled at her skin in between applying serums and creams. Miraculously, her time working in hospitals hadn’t given her too many wrinkles or gray hair, but she felt like her youthful beauty was dwindling. After all, the past few months took quite a toll on her. It was especially easy to get stuck in her head when one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life was standing right behind her, looking absolutely flawless.

The intrusive thoughts kept piling up and tears started to pool in y/n’s eyes. Rooster had seen months worth of tears already that night, so y/n buried her face into her hands. Bradley’s head snapped up at the motion. He kissed her temple and gently pulled at her wrists so he could see her face in the reflection of the mirror. The silent tears streaming down her face broke his heart.

“What’s wrong, y/n/n?” Rooster asked, concern painting his features. y/n wouldn’t meet his eyes while she picked at her nails. Her lips twisted together as she took a shaky breath.

“I just worry that I’m not enough, you know? I mean… I’m not getting any younger and I get exhausted from work so I can't just put out all the time and…” y/n started rambling and got herself worked up. All her insecurities spilled out in a flurry of words. “that’s why Ethan cheated, I guess,” y/n’s voice was small by the end of her rant.

Rooster’s jaw clenched at the pain Richards put y/n through. He squeezed his arms tight around her middle and pressed a kiss to her temple before turning her to face him directly.

“What that asshole did does not define you,” Rooster’s voice was steady and his gaze was serious. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You work hard and the world is a better place because of you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’m sure I’ll think the same thing years and years from now.” Bradley paused to let his words sink in. He softly squeezed her hips before continuing.

“He was a damn fool for letting you go. But I’m so glad he did. Maybe that’s selfish but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you in my arms right now.” y/n let out a small gasp and Bradley held her gaze for as long as she’d let him. The weight of his words was heavy, but y/n felt lighter than she had in days.

After that night a few weeks ago, Rooster and y/n were closer than ever. y/n supposed that was bound to happen after Bradley saw her at her lowest. She felt good when she was with Rooster. Really good. y/n was an independent woman and tried not to rely too much on other people, especially after what happened with Ethan, but she couldn’t help the gravitational pull she felt towards Bradley.

The only problem was that her travel nursing contract would be over in just a month.

y/n didn’t have any solid plans of what she’d do after finishing up her time at the base hospital. From the moment she got there, her plan was to leave. Maybe she’d sign a contract in a different city, maybe she’d go stay with friends and family for a while. There was nothing keeping her here. Not until now.

Each day she spent with Rooster she couldn’t help the pang of pain in her chest when she remembered her mental countdown.  She also felt guilty that he didn’t know when her contract was up. She told him on their first date that it was a four-month contract, but they hadn’t really talked about it since then.

When there were just 29 days left in her contract, Rooster went over to y/n’s house with a pizza box in hand. y/n greeted him at the door with a smile, but her face fell when she saw the solemn look on Bradley’s face. She shut the door behind him and cautiously followed him to the kitchen. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, y/n tried to get Rooster’s attention but he busied himself with gathering plates and drinks for them.

“Roos, what’s wrong?” y/n asked hesitantly. Rooster typically didn’t show when he was upset, but y/n saw right through him. He set his jaw with a heavy sigh before turning to face y/n.

“I’m being deployed for 3 weeks. It’s a shorter mission but…,” he trailed off with a shrug. y/n was surprised to see him like this. Normally Rooster was ecstatic and couldn’t help but grin when he talked about his job. There was nothing he loved more than flying, so to see him disappointed about being sent on a mission was strange.

“Why are you upset?” y/n asked carefully. Rooster’s brows scrunched together and his head tilted to the side as if to say Isn’t it obvious?

“I’ll be in the middle of nowhere and you’ll be here. Reception will be shoddy at best, so I don’t know if I’ll even be able to call you.” He looked like someone kicked his puppy. y/n’s heart ached at the thought of being away from Rooster for so long, but her teasing nature got the better of her.

“Are you saying you’re going to miss me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” y/n wiggled her eyebrows and rounded the island to wrap her arms around his waist. Bradley rolled his eyes and leaned down to peck her lips.

“Yeah, I am, nurse y/n,” Bradley teased, throwing her own professional title back at her.

They ate dinner on the couch while a cheesy rom-com played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid any attention to it. y/n sat with her legs thrown across Rooster’s lap and he used his free hand to massage her exposed skin. They told each other about their days–y/n shared the meal-friendly versions of her interesting cases at the ER and Rooster explained some of the offense maneuvers he worked on in training. The aviator slang still felt like a foreign language to y/n, but she was slowly understanding bits and pieces.

The light-hearted mood dissipated after they finished eating when the conversation drifted back towards Rooster’s upcoming deployment. The mission was classified so there wasn’t much he could tell y/n, but he could at least give her a vague timeline.

Her stomach dropped when Bradley told her he’d be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. If the mission stayed on schedule, there would only be one week left in her contract by the time he got back. But y/n put on a brave face. Rooster was the one being sent into enemy territory, not her. This wasn’t about her. The last thing she or the Navy needed was for him to worry about her while he was flying at warp speed with missiles on his tail.

y/n moved to straddle Rooster’s lap and tossed both of their plates to the side. Her nails gently scratched at the nape of his neck and she brought her lips close to his ear.

“We better make tonight count then, huh?” she whispered. Rooster was done for. Without missing a beat, he shot up from the couch, holding y/n close to him with his hands on the back of her thighs. y/n emitted a squeal when Rooster playfully slapped her ass cheek on the way to her bedroom

Bradley spent the night at y/n’s house, opting to leave earlier than normal in the morning so he could swing by his house and grab his things. His 4:30 a.m. alarm was nothing short of a rude awakening for y/n, but it was even worse to watch Bradley get ready to leave.

y/n held his hand, trailing behind him to the door in a sleepy stupor. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sobered up once they stood next to his bronco in the early morning darkness.

“Be safe out there, Roos. Come back in one piece. And don’t do anything stupid while I’m not there to patch you up,” y/n said with a small smile in between yawns, but she was completely serious. Rooster couldn’t help but chuckle and grin at the sentiment.

“I will, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I get the chance,” Rooster promised with a kiss to the top of her head while y/n hugged him tighter than she ever had before. The kiss they shared was passionate and deep and far too scandalous to be happening out in the street where y/n’s neighbors could see, but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

y/n leaned across the open window of the closed driver's door to press a final peck to Bradley’s lips. After he put his key in the ignition and started up the old car, she poked his chest.

“This isn’t a goodbye, just so you know,” y/n said pointedly. There was a double meaning to her words when her thoughts drifted to the quickly approaching end of her contract. Rooster nodded with a grin, oblivious to her secondary thoughts.

“I’ll see ya later, baby.”

a/n: rooster is an ass man. you can try to change my mind but you'll probably be unsuccessful. as always, reblogs & comments are much appreciated! i love hearing what you guys think :)

edit: i changed my mind. rooster is a boob man. he just happens to be fond of y/n's ass too.

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #nurse!reader #rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #a safe place to land #tw: food mention #tw: alcohol mention #tw: panic attack

[jellicrusade]

i'm thalia, the first photo is a depiction of what we're all thinking when we've already ordered our food but the table next to us looks better, the second picture is an accurate depiction after i've had pasta

#i dont have a face tag srry #k9.intro #k9s.selfie #so no randoms find this #tw: body image #tw: food mention #yeah i took two likes as confirmstion sue me

[iheartpeppino]

According to a bit of graffiti in the sewer level, Pizzaface EATS PIZZA. To me, this can only mean that Pizzahead also eats pizza.

I can easily imagine Pizzahead being confronted about this and him going, "What? There's nothing weird about a pizza man eating pizza! I know pizza's delicious! I'm not gonna pretend it's not just because you think it's weird!" And he just takes a big bite out of the slice he's consuming just to punctuate his point.

#pizza tower #pizzaface #pizza head #headcanon #pizza #tw: food mention

[headcanonsandmore]

Donna: Spaceman, I told mum I'd cook Sunday Lunch but I don't know how!

Ten, pouring milk into a cereal box: And you thought I'd be able to help?

#doctor who #tenth doctor #donna noble #incorrect doctor who quotes #doctor who incorrect quotes #tw: food mention

[genderoftoday]

tw food mention

today’s gender is when you’re hungry but you can’t find anything that sounds good to you…so you just suffer through the executive dysfunction until you can get yourself to eat something…

‎

#trans #nonbinary #genderfluid #genderqueer #ask #tw: food mention

[becca-e-barnes]

Becca, darling! I am one again thinking of Lee and what he would be like if he had the reader sat in his lap, maybe trailing her smaller delicate hands over his softer rounder tummy whilst also feeding slices of (perhaps home-made especially for her favourite sheriff?) pie or tasty pastry treats. Her knowing how hard he works and she just wants to make sure he's cared for

Maybe things escalate from there as she begins to subtly grind herself against his thigh...

🍑 anon

No because I literally love this. This isn't something I've ever written but I find it so hot! That whole concept of food and sex and the satisfaction that you feel when both are so good? Plus I love baking so this is it for me

Like I love the thought of baking something special for Lee. Maybe a cherry pie bc that's my favourite dessert. He'd watched you make it with a soft, content smile on his face, trying to tear his eyes away from the swell of your ass and the way it's framed by the edges of your apron.

As the pie cools down, he notices the little cracks forming in the pastry, his mouth watering at how the syrupy crimson filling peaks through. The light dusting of sugar on top doesn't help him restrain himself either, never mind the smell of freshly baked buttery pastry that's been wafting from the kitchen.

"Don't touch. baby. The pie is for Sunday." You smile, giving him a gentle kiss that makes him groan in frustration.

"Tha's not fair and you know it, Sugar." He groans, squeezing your ass after tugging you against him by the apron strings. "You gonna deny me a little slice of pie? On my birthday of all days?" He knows exactly how to get what he wants and damn him, it's working.

"Won't even make ya put a candle in it for me. Jus' lemme have a little taste. We can pretend it never happened." He won't relent and you know it. Not until he's watching a knife glide through the soft crust with the gentlest crunch.

It's not easy denying him, especially when the pie was his request. "Just a taste." You agree, rolling your eyes before giving in and cutting him a slice.

The filling is ever so slightly too wet, a testament to how fresh the cherries were before they were baked. The way you slide into his lap makes him perk up but his eyes don't leave the dessert plate and pastry fork in your hand.

He doesn't move to take the plate from you, looping his arms around your waist and smirking to himself as you load up the fork before bringing it to his lips.

God, the filling is delicious. It's sweet and decadent and reminds him so much of you. "Oh Sugar, you've outdone yourself this time." He moans, making a show of letting his head flop backwards as he chews. His eyes close of their own accord and it briefly reminds you of the kind of ecstasy you've seen him experience so many times before. Often in this same kitchen chair.

"You like it, Lee?" You smile, trying to ignore the strength of the throbbing between your thighs as you scoop more dessert onto the fork.

"Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea." You bring the utensil to his mouth once more before resting both the fork and the plate on the kitchen table as he chews.

Your hands roam over him slowly, a little more reverent than the way you usually touch him. You admire how even over his shirt, your fingers still sink into his soft, doughy tummy just a little. You've put a few extra pounds on him since you got married, not that either of you are complaining.

You know he can't be comfortable. That belt has been getting a little tighter recently and it shows now that he's sitting down. Without wanting to make a big deal, your hands trail lower, landing on the buckle and undoing it. He lets out the most content huff of breath, chewing methodically as you go back to rubbing his tummy.

"God, it's good." He whispers, letting you feed him another bite. "And all fuckin' mine." You're not sure if he's talking about the pie or you anymore and you can't find it in yourself to care. His thick thigh is wedged neatly between your legs in a way that has you rolling against it, letting gasps fall from your lips while your husband just watches.

"Is this doin' it for ya? Cause baby, every time you cook for me, I leave the table half hard and way too fuckin' full." He admits, holding your waist and watching the way your eyes flutter shut.

"Lee, that's..." You begin but the lust has all your thoughts a little scrambled.

"Hot? Cause I can feel what it's doin' to ya. Bet ya taste even sweeter than the pie right now." You're almost ashamed and it just makes you wetter, desperately riding his thigh as you lift the plate once more, your hands trembling ever so slightly.

#asks answered <3 #🍑 anon #becca writes spice #lee bodecker smut #my hair would be in a pony tail so fast I'd give myself whiplash #im a cherry pie enthusiast #Just playing around #I don't know why I've been shy to write pieces like this in the past #It's such a natural connection to make though? #idk I just really like it #I get so much ick hearing people eat though?? #so make it make sense #tw: food mention

[abybweisse]

I was wondering that if Gream reapers need sleeping,eating, so they are pretty much like humans,I was wondering if they need physical needs too? Like having intercours and etc

Reaper needs and wants

They canonically need food and sleep (or so they have been told), but other things might be more like wants/desires that remain in the afterlife. And the reaper organization might actually rely on this to keep their ranks filled.

Because I have this theory that suicides' souls are collected and sent off for judgment before they can start serving out any punishment. The reapers themselves say they aren't judging souls, just determining which ones to collect. And Undertaker says the bodies (with their brains and cinematic records) stay in the human realm. This means that reapers probably wouldn't actually reuse their human bodies, which might be completely destroyed anyway (depends on what method they used).

If that's true, then their bodies are left behind -- I expect the reapers who collect their souls actually make comments on their files -- and their souls are sent off for judgement, where they are then sentenced to punishment as reapers. I theorize that those souls are then "reborn" into reaper bodies. These could be fully developed bodies, but I suspect it's actually babies. And I further suspect that means the females give birth to new reapers as part of their punishment. Which would make it even more odd that Grelle ever wished to bear children. Human children, when Grelle was human... or reaper babies, now that Grelle is a reaper? Much more gruesome, to me, if Grelle actually wants to bear reaper babies....

Anyway, if the theory is right that they are reborn into baby reaper bodies, then yeah. That would mean reproduction is a necessity, of sorts. If they didn't reproduce with each other, there wouldn't be enough babies to house the souls of the suicides who are punished in the future. And when the reapers talk about being short-staffed, it might be that there isn't enough reproduction to keep their ranks full. Or not enough to deal with the constantly increasing human population they need to reap from.

We see Ronald flirting with Mey-Rin, as well as a young woman on the ship. He's also mentioned a few times about group dates and other dating opportunities with ladies from other departments in the reaper organization. I figure that reapers getting together with humans is against the rules. But Ronald doesn't seem to care.

Undertaker might have made the conscious decision to reproduce outside the reaper realm, as a means to protest or to decrease their numbers or to make humans gain traits that only reapers are supposed to have.

And then there are other things that the organization probably just allows, like eating as much as they want, smoking, drinking alcohol, possibly even doing drugs -- partying hard -- as long as they get the work done.

Anyway, I'd suggest reading posts in my blog with #reaper rebirth or #reaper rebirth theory.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #reapers #grim reapers #reaper rebirth #reaper rebirth theory #reaper realm #reaper traits #reaper abilities #reaper organization #tw: suicide mention #tw: drugs mention #tw: alcohol mention #tw: food mention #anon asks #i answer #answered asks #jun 6 2023

[butraura]

Author: adorkable_buddie (me) Words: 7,653 Status: Complete Pairing: Buck/Eddie Summary: In which, after Natalia breaks up with Buck, he goes to bar and hits it off with some woman. The next morning and a one night stand later, Buck learns that the woman is Eddie's sister.

#archive of our own #fic #TW: food mention #plot doesn't center around food but if it is triggering I would not recommend reading #buddie #buck x eddie #9 1 1 on abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #sophia diaz #light angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #buddie endgame #no obligation to read!