#baked thought trains

[awonderlandsystem]

Baked Thought Trains 🚂💨

It's almost here now, Easter. R was looking at Easter basket stuff today and all I can think about is how fucked that day, that weekend, is going to be. There's a million thoughts racing through my head about it. Probably not all mine either. I want to warn him so he has a chance to prepare himself, at the same time I know that's the dumbest idea ever. I am knowingly hurting someone and that makes me feel really shitty. But this is it. This is the chance to escape and finally learn how to live. I know we're drowning here. I know it and I see it and I fully acknowledge it. I just wish it could've been done in a better way. I know I can't front that day because I will crumble. Because the last time I was put in the situation like this I let a little get hurt in trying to keep the peace. I could've left him then but I stood down over not wanting to hurt him. I found a journal page from 2012 in our backpack. That was before kids. I talked about how unsure I was, how mean he was, and how sad I was. Has he really always been like this? I want to see the good in everybody. I wanted to believe his flaws were somehow my fault and that maybe I could fix him. Truth is we were always toxic together. I hope one day he understands that. I hope for the sake of the kids he gets help with his anger. That he takes some parenting classes and really tries to be a Dad. I hope and I wish but deep down I know it's going to get ugly before it gets better. I'm not alone. This time I'm not alone. That's what I keep saying to myself. Probably sounds completely corny each time I type that, but it has been a long and hard road. I'm so ready to be on the other side of it already.

[jackawful]

I think as much as free housing for everyone is a good goal, we gotta also fight for the right to not live in a house if you don't want to? Like I am aware that for the vast majority of homeless folks rn it's a non-choice or half-choice under the current system but like. Idk like even if the state provides everyone with an apartment or tiny home, even if most people would take that deal in a heartbeat, it's not okay for the state to force someone into housing they don't want. It's not okay for the state to tow someone's camper van even if they give them an apartment in exchange. I should have the right to travel for months on end and camp anywhere suitable that isn't being used. Freedom of movement and freedom to occupy spaces is really important actually.

[trevisos]

i just think astarion gets soooo paranoid every time he smokes weed is all

[daforged]

[omarwolaeth]

It's such a tiny innocuous thing that really doesn't matter, but I feel like calling duel monsters a children's card game (when it's fundamentally baked into everyday life, and your social existence is judged by what you play and how you play it so very intensely, for everyone in-universe) is an absolute injustice to what it is for that universe of people.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I haven't talked to a friend in a few months but I want to, so I just texted a picture of my dog in hopes that that will start a conversation. Cuz I miss her but don't know how to start conversations.

[roseofcards90]

Made some pie crust tonight for my apple pie tomorrow!!! :3

[trollbreak]

Anyways echo handshake heehoo or smth :P

[d0gwithabr0kenleg]

the fruit we hope to be

"A tree does not say to itself, By age 30 I want this many leaves, to be this tall, this wide, to drop this many seeds, to know this many other trees. It does not rush. It does not beat itself up, put itself down, doubt, or despair. A tree just grows. This is why a tree knows peace."-Jaiya John

It isn't a particularly sunny day; in fact, the merciless summer sun has relented a bit. On my drive home, I notice cows, horses, and the like tucked into their shelters. I heed their wisement, retrieve my laundry from the clothesline, and cover the hay. When I am done, I get an alert on my phone: 'Rain incoming, 10 minutes.' I thank the cows. This is why I do not eat the cows. This is why I understand Hannibal Lecter's taste for the humans.

I noticed the plums have begun falling off the tree, eager but premature. I bit into one; unsurprisingly, it was extremely tart. I harvested those on heavy, low-hanging branches. I baked them into a crumble—I forgot the oats. When it was done, my family asked me if it was rhubarb. Before I answered, their spoons and forks were in the crumble and they confirmed to themselves, ''Yes, rhubarb. I love rhubarb.'' Maybe this is why they decided to spring so early? For envy of the rhubarb, tart and vibrant. These plums thought they'd better not let themselves ripen in order to imitate the crunchy vegetable. Whatever the intention, they have left a trace of their unripe bitterness in my thoughts.

Anyway... onto the pie.

I made an apricot pie today. I have to say, I was worried about its sweetness. These apricots were quite ripe, squishy, and some even formless in their readiness. But I am eating it right now, and my heart squeezes a little every time they hit my tongue (heartburn...). In fact, I am glad for their ripeness! For they were so easy to pit and halve. Nearly 4 lbs of apricots did I have for this pie, compared to a mere 7 plums for the crumble. And those plums were so terribly hard to pit! Looking at the indent of the fruit along which I halved them, it made me wonder if they were made to be split open? Guts and all. 'Open here! Cut here!' they sing. I looked for a seam on myself. Perhaps that would explain some things... but I did not find one.

Occasionally, in my absent-minded slicing, a pit would end up mingled with the flesh, and the flesh with the pits (I looked at this chaotic mix and wondered if God is capable of such careless disarray. Yet, I know that the divine hand does not err in such ways. My disarray seems to be an inherent part of its design.)

Am I then like one of those pits, an exposed nerve, a naked body, in a world where everything else is neatly covered? I sometimes feel like Eve before her fall— innocent, uncomprehending, and laid bare in this modern age. She, condemned for her unadorned state, unable to grasp her own vulnerability. Or perhaps I am a shell—flesh, something missing something. I wear a mask, no, I am only the mask itself, and they know. They recognize the emptiness behind the facade where they have wholeness.

To be honest, I find myself relating more to the stale box of sugar-free Jell-O perpetually in my grandmother's cupboard. A relic of a time when sweetness was desired but sacrificed. It sits there, unnoticed, untouched, a reminder of what could have been but never was. Its existence is not about fulfillment but about the mere idea of it. Sometimes, I think I am a relic—a symbol of unfulfilled promises and expectations that never quite materialized. Really, we are all a bit like that Jell-O, waiting for someone to find us, to remember why we were placed there in the first place, and to decide if we still have a place in their world. If luck crosses my path I may one day encase a turkey, you take what you can get. Oh cracked out 1950's housewives, you are loved...

I slice through the apricots and juice runs over my fingers, in learning that flowers can see I can't help but feel like their blood is on me... Nonetheless, this pie is a testament to their fullness, their transition from hard and unyielding to soft and generous. Something something, I fought to be this soft, something something..... I am trying to live into these words, I want to be gentle. But in protecting me my mind has calcified many things, and I sometimes feel like everyone is laughing while I play a part they all know I am not fit for. My roughness, my violence, it slips through so naturally. And however grateful I am for the armour I have been given, I don't need it nor want it anymore. There’s a raw violence in the process of becoming something more palatable, something cherished. 

The apricots, unlike the plums, are in their prime, and in their ripeness, they offer a kind of solace—a fleeting moment of perfection that I can savor. 

But as I eat this pie, I can’t help but think of what such abundance infers. The pie, a creation born of ripe fruit and warm crust, carries its own weight. It is evidence of what happens when things reach their peak and then move beyond it. Often I feel as if I have moved beyond my peak, with the ensuing decline feeling like an inevitable consequence of a life lived in overdrive. As a child, I was often praised, expected to ascend rapidly, so of course I went downhill. My harvest was missed, and I rot on the ground, when I should have been in a pie, warming a stomach. (The book 'A Little Life' and the show 'Hannibal' have given me some solace on this front. Whereupon the characters are only really entering- reaching their potential, in their 30s and 40s.)

The apricots, with their current ripeness have the grace of maturation— the journey does not end with an early peak (plums on the ground, plums on the ground.) I think, life is not as linear as we tend to believe. In our perceived failures or delays, there is room for growth and transformation. The pie, as it is now, represents a moment of fulfillment, but also what it means to achieve and then move beyond one’s initial potential.     

In the end, perhaps this pie, like the plums and the Jell-O, is a metaphor for my own existence (Perhaps it is just a pie....) we are all subject to the whims of time and circumstance. We are not always the fruit we hope to be, nor the perfection we strive for. Sometimes, we are the pit that gets lost in the mix, or the crumble that turns out slightly different than expected.

(And the oats! Gah, the oats. Potential unrealized simply because someone with more control than you forgot. Whims, whims.)

But there is grace in imperfection, and there is beauty in the unexpected. ("I love rhubarb.") Even if we are stale Jell-O or early plums, we still have our place in the tapestry, the pattern of the grand design (bugs eating early plums, plums feeding early bugs.) We are part of a cycle of creation and consequence, of sweetness and tartness, of being and becoming. 

Tomorrow I will make compost out of the pits!

And perhaps, that is enough.

[awonderlandsystem]

Baked Thought Trains Rambles... On headmates pushing and pulling 🚂💨💨

Sharing the front is hard. No lie. I want to listen to music and draw. I want to get my workout in. Just lemme scroll mindlessly! I think we've spent more time fighting over getting anything done. Meh you made a picture already. It's a process Zoe. I only need twenty or so minutes. I don't want to lose my streak. The body already feels like it's been hit by a truck! Good. That means we're making progress. Everyday while the kids are gone it's like this. Facepalm.

[burningcomputerpersona]

i hate questions where they have two different options on each end of a scale and ask you to pick anywhere in between. like those are not complete opposites and my answer can't be boiled down to a certain point on the scale. either ask me two seperate questions with a yes/no scale each or just don't ask me at all

[muchtodoonterror]

excellent tags via @boogiewoogieweeb

and I wonder if Heather had lived - Tozer has that weight on his conscience and already feels in adequate to his task. Heather's loss has started to unpick the seams of his confidence in command's ability to keep them alive. If that hadn't happened, would Tozer have been been more able to take the shock of finding the ruins of Fairholme's party? Would he have been more able to understand why Crozier wanted it kept secret? It's almost like he's been so completely disillusioned, he doesn't understand why the others should be protected from the grimmest parts of their situation. I think finding Fairholme is what finally turned him, and if his faith in both himself and his captain hadn't been so shaken...... well, as you say, how differently could it all have gone?

It also would have radically changed his take on the need to haul the sick... with Heather there is hope. But if Heather couldn't be saved, could anyone? If that's where trying to save Heather got him, why bother?

If Heather hadn't died at Carnivale, Tozer would've hauled Heather across King William Land until he dropped in harness himself. If he had no boat to haul him in he would've thrown him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and marched.

[librarydilf]

i think one of the most important things you can do is put some beauty out into the world, in any way

[thavron]

So I was talking to my mum on the phone, and I was telling her how I was at the cinema and this chap offered to buy me a piece of cake. She asked me if I had been flirting with him. I was like "no. good god I don't know how to flirt. I've never flirted with anyone in my life."

She laughed at me. "Thavron, you flirt with everyone."

"What now?"

"You are a natural flirt. You're just like your dad."

So this is a facet of my personality that I didn't know existed. Apparently cracking weird one liners and asking questions because I feel awkward is flirting. Who fucking knew?

[plutotheplum]

Socks and Kisses

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: a spontaneous shopping trip has leon re-evaluating his friendship with you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, spanking, oral sex, praise kink, fluff, friends/roommates to lovers, fantasizing

wc: 3.7k

also posted on ao3!

There’s a shriek leaving you when you trip over a bundle of shoes in the doorway. It nearly sends you hurtling towards the floor, but there’s an arm curling around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall. Leon.

You glare up at your roommate, shoving at his chest so it sends him stumbling.

“Seriously, Leon? How many times have I told you to put your shoes to the side of the doorway?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

He winces at your shrill voice, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was busy,” he says, his eyes pleading with you, “you know with… with work.”

You’re shooting him an unimpressed look, pushing past him to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. It was your day to collect them anyways. Living with Leon had happened entirely by accident. One shittily written apartment listing later and the poor guy was standing outside your door, begging you to let him move in. It hadn’t been so bad. Leon had been nice, and you two had gotten along well, becoming friends even. The only thing you couldn’t stand was how messy the man was.

Empty boxes from delivered packages, stray parchment sheets from when he’d bake himself something and socks strewn haphazardly across the floor, much like his shoes. Leon had practically turned your apartment into a deathtrap. 

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer, not when he’s reaching for the pack of popsicles you’d bought. Leon lets out a low whine, like a kicked puppy, when you swat his hand away and shoot him an irritated glance. “I’m putting my foot down,” you tell him firmly, “no more unorganized socks, shoes or- or anything for that matter!”

Leon only tilts his head, blinking over at you. You glance towards the clock before your eyes are flitting back to meet his.

“Ikea,” you explain, “we’re going to Ikea to get you some organizers or whatever.” 

“ Now? ” Leon asks, raising his brows “but I was going to go to the gym with Chris and-” he’s shutting up when he sees your hardened glare.

Leon lets out an exasperated huff, and you’re smiling over at him, happy you’ve won this argument. Just to reward him, you’re digging out a popsicle from the pack and handing it to him. “So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath, freeing the popsicle from its wrapper. 

“I heard that,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

You both finish up your popsicles, and you’re tossing him his car keys while you pull your shoes on again. 

“Why do I have to drive?” he complains, leaning against the doorway.

“Because it’s your mess,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “and you’re paying as well.”

Leon lets out a scoff, “oh, fuck you.”

You smile back at him, patting him on the shoulder for some comfort. You manage to annoy him a little more during the drive to Ikea, and Leon’s contemplating whether he should just stuff your mouth with the rolled up catalog you’re currently holding

It’s when you both get to the kitchen area that Leon realizes something’s wrong. His eyes are watching the way you bend over the model kitchen counter, gaze trained on the way your skirt rides up slightly, exposing the backs of your thighs. He swallows harshly, wondering what it might be like to come up behind you, grab your hips and grind his cock against your ass. 

Your voice breaks him out of his dazed thoughts, your hand waving him over as you point to the price tag.

“Don’t you think this is a catch?” You ask him, head tilting back to meet his eyes.

“A catch?” He echoes, raising his brows, “it’s $2000 . Do you even have $2000?” 

You roll your eyes, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t be such a jerk, Leon. I think it’d look good in our apartment.”

There it is. Our apartment. The words are so comfortably domestic that it has Leon’s knuckles squeezing tight around the basket he’s holding. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t imagined you two dating. Especially after that time he’d come home drunk one night. You’d taken care of him so sweetly, despite all of your grumbles and chastisements, that Leon felt like he was falling in love.

That had only happened once though, and Leon wasn’t prepared to make a big deal about his feelings so he buried them deep down and carried on with his life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on his little crush any longer, brows furrowing when he feels the basket in his hand grow heavier. You’ve been milling about, dumping various little trays and organizational tidbits into the basket.

“At this point, I think you’re trying to max out my card,” he drawls, trailing after you.

“I’m helping you, Leon” you shoot back, bringing a candle up to your nose to smell its scent.

It’s not until you both get to the bedding area that Leon realizes he might actually be losing it. 

He’s sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, the basket settled on the floor with how heavy it’s become. 

You’re fluttering about, checking out the duvet covers and pillow cases. His eyes watch over you, letting you take a seat beside him on the bed when you find a duvet cover you like.

“Pretty, right?” You ask him, showing him the design.

“I guess,” he murmurs absentmindedly. 

He thinks you look prettier though. Besides, it’s not like he can tell you that he’s imagining taking you on this very bed. Your face pressed into the pillows, his cock stuffed into your pussy. You’d probably make cute noises too, clench around his cock while he thrusted into you. He’d let everyone watch, he thinks, make sure everyone knew that you were his. 

You’re snapping your fingers in his face, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring into his eyes “you keep getting distracted.”

“What?” Leon flushes, clearing his throat “yeah- yeah I’m fine… just had enough of you is all.”

You swat his shoulder and he rolls his eyes. Both of you manage to get to the checkout without any further bickering. Leon’s card doesn’t max out thankfully, but you wince when you see the total, ignoring Leon’s glower as he tears the receipt from the machine.

To make up for the spontaneous shopping spree, you buy him a soft serve and hand it to him with a smile. 

Leon takes it with a grumble, his eyes dropping to the way you lick at your soft serve. The icy treat smudges across your lips, and he’s reaching out before he can stop himself, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to clean the mess. 

“Think you might be the messy one,” he mutters gruffly, drawing his hand back. 

“Your socks alone have nearly crippled me” you reply, nibbling at the cone to try and quell the race of your heart at his unexpected action. 

Leon lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head. The drive home is quiet, the soft sounds of the radio filling up the car’s space.

You help Leon with the stuff you bought, leaving the goods in his room before letting out a satisfied nod.

“There. Now you don’t have an excuse for being messy. Better start cleaning up, Leon” you chirp, giving him a snarky smile before tugging his door shut.

You sigh happily, mind feeling at ease. You’re sure that your apartment won’t be so messy anymore. The sounds of Leon rummaging inside his room almost make you feel bad, but this had been going on for months and you were glad you had done something about it. 

Deciding to grab some food, you reach for the can of peaches on the kitchen counter. By some misfortune, your hand accidentally knocks the can, sending it rolling towards the edge. Letting out an irritated huff, you’re reaching across the counter to grab the can before it falls off. 

While this happens, you’re blissfully unaware of the fact that your skirt is riding up. Leon feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest at the sight when he had wandered out of his room to grab a garbage bag. 

He can see the swell of your ass, your cheeks peeking out from your panties as you’re bent over, grabbing the can of peaches. 

“Have you made it some sort of mission to bend over every kitchen counter you see?” he asks dryly, his arms crossing over his chest.

You squeak in surprise, body jolting. The can of peaches slips from your hand pitifully, landing on the floor with a loud thunk .

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” You whine, turning to give him a glare.

Leon doesn’t reply, coming to a stop in front of you. His blue eyes are dark, dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead.

“Um… Leon?” You wave your hand in front of his face. 

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he murmurs, his hand catching yours.

“Hm?” he squeezes your hand, his head lowering so he can stare right into his eyes, “bending over every kitchen counter so I can see your pretty ass?” 

You manage to gather your wits, letting out a loud scoff and push at his chest.

“You’re such a perv, Leon!” you accuse, narrowing your eyes and placing your hands on your hips. 

“I’m not a perv if you keep bending over like that!” he shoots back, his hands grabbing at your forearms to tug you towards him. 

You swallow harshly when his calloused hands drift past your wrists, finding your hands and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his body seeps into yours and your head is tilting, eyes finding his.

“We- we are not fucking,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Leon asks, his head lowering again. 

His body presses against yours, causing your breath to hitch. You’re biting your lip at the way it feels, the hard planes of his body molding against yours.

“One kiss,” he whispers, peering into your eyes, “please? Just one kiss and it’ll be over.”

You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you denied his request. Leon was stupidly handsome even if he was a little annoying at times, and you had maybe masturbated to the thought of your roommate before.

“Did you happen to forget that we’re roommates?” you raise your brows, trying to voice your concerns.

“Roommates kiss all the time,” he says, his nose nudging against yours gently, “now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

You don't know what sort of roommates he’s been hanging around, but you’re almost certain that roommates don’t kiss or do whatever the hell you two are doing right now. 

Leon doesn’t know what he’s doing either. That one shopping trip had seriously messed up his brain, but he was here now so there was no going back. Your lips look so pretty, your eyes all starry. He wants to kiss you senseless and bend you over that stupid kitchen counter while he fucks into you until you’re crying on his cock.

As if to encourage you a little more, he nudges his nose against yours again. You send him a glare, eyes slipping shut as you rock up on the tips of your toes and brush your lips against his. The kiss is fleeting, a mere touch of your lips against his, and it’s safe to say Leon is not impressed.

“There,” you say, trying to hide the smirk that spreads across your face, “you got a kiss. Now leave me alone.”

Leon lets out a low groan, his head falling against your shoulder, “you’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You hum, pushing at his chest, taking the opportunity to free yourself from the confines of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his hand snagging onto your shirt, “c’mere baby.”

His low voice has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, your eyes widening when his hands cup your cheeks and he presses his lips against yours.

It doesn’t take you long to respond, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. He groans into your mouth, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer. 

You’re both flush against each other and you let out an irritated noise when he shoves you up against the kitchen counter, feeling the solid surface dig into your back.

“Drove me crazy at that Ikea,” he whispers against your lips, his hands sneaking under your skirt to give your ass an appreciative grope, “thought about fucking you on one of those beds.”

The idea of it is so obscene and indecent that you find yourself moaning out loud.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Me fucking you in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine?” 

You’re nodding desperately at his filthy questions, trying to tug his shirt off so you can see his chest and abdomen. He obliges you, quickly shrugging off his shirt. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, eyes half-lidded. 

You can’t help the way your body leans forward, lips pressing soft kisses across his chest and his pecs. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head.

“Just kisses, huh?” he murmurs.

You nod, peering up at him “no fucking, remember?”

He hums, tilting your head so he can kiss you again. Leon kisses you over and over until you can’t breathe. You’re feeling so dazed that you don’t even notice he’s spinning you around, bending you over the kitchen counter. There’s a soft whine escaping you when he flips your skirt up, his hands squeezing at your ass before his fingers slip under your panties, tugging the fabric back and letting it snap back against you.

Your fingers are scrabbling at the counter top when you feel him drop to his knees, his lips pressing against the skin of your ass. He kisses your body so reverently, you think you might actually pass out.

“Wanna kiss your pussy too,” he mumbles, tugging your panties down. You shudder when you feel his breath hit your sensitive skin, hips swaying back to meet the kisses he places on your clit.

His tongue lolls out before long, lapping at your cunt, collecting the slick that drips from you. 

“That- that is not kissing,” you whimper out, head falling against the coolness of the counter.

“Sure it is,” he whispers, burying his face deeper into your pussy, “just dirty kisses, sweetheart.”

The way he eats you out is messy. Leon’s trying to shove his face deeper between your thighs, his lips suctioning around your pussy. You mewl when he draws back and spits on your cunt, his mouth latching on soon after. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold on, knees beginning to shake. Leon delivers a particularly toe-curling suck to your clit and you’re shuddering, letting out whines and whimpers when he lets out a low laugh, his tongue swiping over your cunt repeatedly.

“Leon- fuck! Leon, ‘m gonna-” you can barely speak properly. 

“Then come , baby,” he whispers, his tongue pressing into your fluttering hole.

You squeal at the unfamiliar sensation, knuckles turning white as you come on his tongue. He licks up your slick eagerly, his wet lips pressing soft kisses against the swell of your ass as you pant.

He stands up, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You press your back against his chest, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, his hands smoothing along your back to undo the clasp of your bra. 

Your arms lift and Leon helps you take off your shirt and bra, letting out a soft sigh as your head falls back against his shoulder. Leon’s hands are restless, reaching for your breasts. 

He hums at the sight of your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before letting go to squeeze your tits. 

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You mewl, cheeks flushing. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you so sweetly. Leon feels your body lurch forward, tits pressing against his palms. He laughs, giving another firm grope to your tits and finds your lips to give you another filthy kiss. While he kisses you, Leon grinds his hips against your ass, and you gasp into his mouth, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Think my cock wants to give your cute pussy some kisses too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your ear, “you up for it, baby?”

You could be a bobblehead with how fast your head is moving up and down. Leon grins against your ear, placing another kiss to your cheek before he’s bending you over the counter. The coolness of the counter startles you slightly, but Leon’s hand rubs up and down your back, warming your skin. 

Tits squished against the hard surface, your feet on the tips of your toes, pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal, Leon can hardly believe his fantasy has come to fruition. He wants to take a picture, keep it safe and jerk off to the sight of you when he’s alone. There’s no pictures taken though, instead Leon’s hand delivers a heavy slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You moan, back arching slightly as you try and chase the feeling. It hurts and you can feel the sting of his palm prickling across your skin, but you want him to spank you again so badly.

“L- Leon, want more,” you mumble, looking back at him.

Leon takes your request in stride, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. Your body slumps against the counter, soft noises escaping you as he rains slap after slap onto your reddening skin. 

“Shit, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands smoothing over the damage he’s done to your ass “so fuckin’ pretty.”

There’s a babbled noise escaping you. Mind feeling like mush, all you can think about is Leon. He smooths his hands over your sensitive skin a few more times, trying to soothe the pain before you feel him squeeze gently as he presses the head of his cock against your aching hole.

Leon pushes into your pussy with a groan, his hands squeezing at your hips. It almost feels like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck-” he hisses, drawing his hips back to thrust back into you again, “ fuck - you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Leon’s thrusts are beginning to pick up in speed and you’re whining, the force of his thrusts making your body rub against the kitchen counter.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you chant his name and his body is draping over yours, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and back, “feels so good,” you slur. 

His hips are rutting against your ass, cock stuffing you full. You’re moaning so loudly that Leon has to slip his hand over your mouth in an effort to quieten your noises. His balls are slapping against your clit and the combined stimulation is making your head spin.

Soon, his hand is leaving your mouth to grip your hips again. 

“Take my fucking cock,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. 

“It’s too much!” you wail, nails clawing at the counter to try and crawl away.

He growls, grip tightening as he keeps you in place, “don’t you dare run. Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“You’re insane,” you cry, but there’s a cockdrunk smile spreading across your face as he fucks into you. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear, “and it’s all for you, because- because I like you.” 

There’s a loud whine ripping out of you at that, wet heat clenching around him. No one’s confessed to you before, like ever . You suck in a sharp breath, trying to calm your heart and stop the excited flipping of your stomach that comes with his confession.

Leon moans when he feels the clench of your walls around his cock and he’s fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

“I like you,” he whispers again “like you so much, sweetheart. Always taking care of me, looking out for me, makes me feel special.” 

“Only do that ‘cause you’re an idiot, Leon” you mumble, swallowing back another moan that threatens to spill out. 

“But you do it anyway,” he murmurs, driving his cock into you.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as his fat tip grazes the spot deep inside of you. He grunts when he feels you getting tighter, feels you clenching hard around his cock.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, sucking little love bites onto your neck, “hm? Can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Wanna- wanna come at the same time,” you babble “right, Leon? Since- since you like me, we gotta come at the same time.”

He’s letting out a hoarse laugh, kissing your shoulder again, “yeah baby, I’m right there with you.”

All of a sudden, he’s burying himself to the hilt inside of you and your mouth drops open, a sharp noise leaving you as you both come. Your body is limp against the counter, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you pant. Leon kisses your neck, letting out a whine as his cum spurts into you. It’s warm and thick, filling you up so perfectly that it has a serene smile settling on your face.

He helps you onto your feet, his hands rubbing up and down your sides to soothe your shaky legs. You feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your head and you’re rocking up on the tips of your toes, returning a kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too, Leon” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. 

You can feel him smile against your lips and he’s kissing you back sweetly. Leon keeps you there for a while as you both kiss, his hands petting across your tired body.

He takes you to his room later, his hand encasing yours. The moment is almost perfect, if not for the sock on the floor that sends you careening into his desk. “Leon!” you grit out.

He only laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you up and tosses you onto his bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

[infictionalwonderland]

The BAU team meeting Hotch’s younger gf who looks like she walked off the front cover of a magazine & she’s so bubbly and has a really comforting energy! How would they react????

The satisfying little clicks of heels against the marble floor wasn’t enough to gain any of their attention usually, but accompanied by the delicately enchanting chimes of true laughter and sweet smell of baked goods—eyes were immediately lifting to investigate to the scene.

“Thank you so much!” An incredibly sweet, honeyed voice gushed genuinely, “here, all of these are meant for my boyfriend but I’m sure he won’t even notice.”

The team traded immensely interested looks as they surveyed the scene, Anderson (who was uncharacteristically blushing a bright flustered cherry red) was being handed a chocolate chip muffin by—wow—a startlingly gorgeous young women who was dressed in inviting soft colours and had a large sweet smile on her face that served to emphasise her lovely appearance.

“My day just got a hundred times better.” Derek grinned, swivelling his chair sideways to speak to the rest of his team while barely taking his eyes off you.

“You’re telling me.” Emily’s mouth hung open a little as she leaned forwards on her elbows to look at you more closely.

“Behave.” JJ scolded before her brief look of reprimand melted under Emily’s pointed stare, “she’s looks so sweet I just wanna eat her.”

“She has a boyfriend.” Spencer reminded them.

“What—?”

“Pretty boy—you and—“

“Oh—oh, no!” Spencer flustered, sputtering out the gulp of his coffee he had in his mouth (JJ handed him a napkin with a mothers readiness). “Not—I would be absolutely honoured—and—and, for lack of a sensical phrase, over the moon, to have a romantic relationship with a woman such as her but—no, unfortunately. She—she said a few moments ago that has a boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Emily blinked, a slow almost sheepish smirk on his lips, “I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying, just watching her lips move.”

“Preach sister.” Derek leaned forward for a fist-bump which Emily easily gave, both of them nodding in solidarity.

“Hello!” They all startled heavily as your gentle, happy voice chimed now much closer to them and mouths dropped subtly at just how beautiful you looked up close.

“Well hello sweetheart.”

“H-hi.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“Hello!”

You blinked at them, an adorable giggle leaving you at the onslaught of greetings that came all at once. “Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where Aaron Hotchner’s office is would you?”

“Hotch?” Emily furrowed her brows at you curiously and then seemed to forgot about, well, any of anything she was thinking as your bubbly smile and sparkling eyes turned her way and you gave a cheerful ‘yep!’ “Um—just, up those stairs, the first door at the top.”

“Thank you very much.” You told her, voice as sweet as the packet of fizzy haribos hidden in her desk. “It was lovely meeting you all, we’ll probably be better acquainted later on.”

With a sparkly mischievous twinkle in your bright eyes and another adorable giggle, you took off in a small spin that sent the enchanting mix of your perfume and the baked goods wafting over to all of them and they all watched, entranced, as you climbed the steps to their boss’ office.

After several seconds of dazed silence, Spencer gasped.

“Boyfriend—“

“Yeah I wouldn’t mind being her boyfriend either.” Derek murmured. “At all—really, no sweat off my back.”

“Hotch.”

JJ’s mouth dropped open as she realised where Spencer was going with his train of thought, rolling back in her chair as they pointed at him in realisation.

“Oh my God!”

“Hotch—hotch, is her boyfriend..?” Spencer sounded extremely confused, mouth falling open and closing repeatedly.

“Huh?”

“Reid, you are having a giggle.”

“No, he’s right.” JJ confirmed, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “She said she was here to see her boyfriend and she’s gone to see Hotch. . 2 plus 2 equals. .”

“. . An incredibly brokenhearted Derek Morgan.” Derek’s own mouth dropped open, craning his neck to see what was going on in the office of his boss before realising that Hotch had shut the blinds. Derek gasped, that sneak.

“And a flummoxed Emily Prentiss.”

“But she’s so—“

“Yeah.”

“And he’s like—“

“Literally!”

“Well, the last few months Hotch has been incredibly more relaxed, in fact his percentage of smiles given has gone up from a measly 30% to almost 84%, his laugh quota has reached high yet levels than I’ve ever known it to be. I had also noted that every Thursday he never goes home as late as he usually retires for the day and with this new revelation of a relationship—I assume this correlates to their date nights.”

“It does.”

Everyone turned in their chairs quickly to face their boss who now stood outside his office a faintly amused smile curving up his lips, at his side was you and you were wearing an amused and loving smile, eyes practically sparkling after Spencer’s speech on your boyfriend’s behaviour as they flickered up to said boyfriend beside you who looked down at you with soft, fond eyes.

“So you figured out my secret.” You grinned at them all, taking in Spencer’s red cheeks and Emily’s flabbergasted, dazed stare. “I’m Y/N, Aaron’s girlfriend!”

“Doesn’t that just crush a man’s hopes and dreams.” Derek pouted quietly to himself, straightening up in alarm when his boss’ intense eyes zeroed in on him.

“Honey, this is JJ—“ The blonde gave a warm, welcoming smile and a wave, “Spencer,” said genius gave a tight lipped awkward smile, hands flailing awkwardly and cheeks a burning fiery red, feeling this pulse thump when they smiled back directly at him, “Emily and Derek.” Both of the aforementioned gave waves with half flirty-ish smirks and half genuine smiles.

The door to Rossi’s office opened and when he stepped out and saw you beside Aaron he smiled happily, walking towards you both.

“Ah, Y/N!” He took you into an embrace, kissing both of your cheeks. “You get more beautiful every time I see you, is this big brute treating you right?”

“Always, Dave.”

He patted you on the shoulders, smiling, before turning to Aaron who was rolling his eyes at him fondly.

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Rossi!” Emily’s astounded voice exclaimed, “you—know Y/N—you knew about this—“

It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes as he continued walking to descend down the stairs, tutting at her disappointedly.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He countered, “who do you think encouraged him to go for it?”

You laughed at that and your boyfriend smiled down at you fondly, looping an arm around your waist—seemingly forgetting he was in his place of work and needed to keep up the facade of stone cold, emotionless boss.

“What—Rossi—get back here—“ Derek leaped up from his seat and trailed after the older man.

“What, you gonna come watch me take a leak?”

“If it means we get some answers!”

“Shoo parassita.”

All you could do was laugh again, smiling up at your boyfriend as his arm tightened around your waist and he pulled you closer into his side. You were very happy with your decision to come and deliver baked goods to him.