#one container in baking is fine

[ehliena]

You know how dump cakes (dump everything in a pan, mix, pop in oven) were popular in the 60s and 70s? Imagine muggleborns doing that to their potions when Severus started Hogwarts.

Then when the fad died out in the 80s (when Severus started teaching) he was so grateful.

But it came back in the 90s for some reason and he just...could not anymore bc he was dealing with Death Eater stress, Dumbledore stress, and he cannot deal with children pretending Potions was baking class.

[shiroi---kumo]

For the puff, a box of pocky c:

I didn't know which flavor he would like best, so classic chocolate it is. They're like cookie sticks dipped in chocolate, which sounds really strange now that I think about it, but they're really good!

"Oh my." The smell of sugar is practically assaulting his nose as he opens the box. "These are..." Carefully does he open the packaging on the inside to slip one of the long thing cookies from the box. "... are these the strange sugar sticks I see the children eating in Japan when I go to visit Ai and Yu? I have always wanted to try them."

He's crunching into the stick in his hand and as snow colored brows manage to raise higher his lips spread out into a wide smile.

"Oooh these are quite good aren't they. They have flavors? More than just this? Color me curious as the humans say. If the others are as good as this..." He's already crunched away two more sticks in the process of pondering. "... then I must try them as well. Perhaps I should ask Ai and Yu about it? I thank you for this gift. They are simply lovely."

[artbyblastweave]

So I don't really think that it's a secret that Boston has a significant Minotaur problem. It's a pretty common situation for older American cities on the East Coast- centuries of poorly-documented cowpath-style urban growth providing an ideal nesting ground, widespread electrification and plentiful steam tunnels that compensate for the loss of the temperate Mediterranean climate that they're used to. And all this on top of limited institutional knowledge of proper containment tactics at least up until the Greek diaspora started to really blow up in the 20th century. You only have to fuck up the safety checks on one cargo steamer coming in from the broad area of old Minoa and then basically any import controls you put in after that point are closing the barn door after the bulls are loose. So yeah, no secret, it's an issue.

I do think, though, that we've kind of let the specific narrative surrounding the issue get away from us in the usual fashion, the problem people picture when they hear "Minotaur" isn't anywhere close the to the problem as it exists on the ground. I mean people's minds immediately jump to the 1949 Boylston massacre, but let's be real, even though that was really politically useful for finally getting the exit fares on the T removed, that was still a black-swan event, right? Basically every mayor since, like, Hynes has lived in mortal terror of having to manage a repeat of something like that during the mass media era, let alone the smartphone era. So we've got these Theseus kill-teams with their titanium-composite ropes and souped-up cattle prods and bolt guns, we have these constant "track replacement" stoppages on the orange line, and it's fine. It's fine! There hasn't been a serious Minotaur thing within walking distance of a T stop since, like, 2006, which again you can mostly chalk up to the chaos surrounding the dig.

No, the actual danger zones, the silent killers are the exurbs, like West Roxbury, Roslindale, parts of Hyde Park. Relatively dense foliage, bad sightlines, far enough from the urban center that the response times are bad, foot traffic that's basically nonexistent for big parts of the workweek because everyone's either commuting or hunkered down working from home. And, of course, a steady stream of delivery drivers with no political ties to the area. Which is an important element, right? I mean it's kind of baked into the Minotaur's nature, that they have a very finely tuned instinctual awareness of the politics of their situation. Start snagging homeowners, there might be a ruckus. But Amazon does steady business everywhere, and Minotaurs are smart enough to cover their bases, to wait until after the drivers have dropped off your package or delivered your food. So yeah, watch yourself out there. One eye on the treeline at all times. And if you see an Amazon van left idling, get ready to run faster than the driver could.

[oneforthemunny]

surprise, surprise |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie forgets your birthday. or maybe he doesn't.

my birthday is in a few days and i wanted to write a little birthday ficlet blurb :) no aus, just eddie.

contains: angst/fluff. birthday doom. kinda asshole eddie?? kinda asshole friends?? really fluffy sweet ending. language.

“So,” Heather leaned over, chin propped in her hands dramatically slumped over the counter. “What’re you doing this weekend?” 

“Nothing,” You hummed, fingers flicking through the crinkled bills. “Why? You know something fun going on?” 

“It’s your birthday.” Heather gawked playfully. “You’re not doing anything for your birthday?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly, pushing the cash drawer closed. “No.” You shook your head, voice tight. 

“Eddie isn’t taking you out?” Heather’s brows furrowed. “Or you’re not going home? Going out? Are you getting a cake?” 

Your heart sank, a familiar burn rising in your chest. You didn’t speak about your birthday much, not much of an occasion for celebration to you, more of one that was dreadful. Another year closer to death, you’d grumble cynically. Still, when Eddie hadn’t even acknowledged it, when your friends had all blown you off for other plans, a new kind of ache formed in your chest. The sting of being forgotten, of being unimportant and discarded- on your birthday. 

It left a bitter taste on your tongue, sardonic and painful when you spoke about your impending birthdate. “No,” You shook your head, chin ducked to your chest. You had never wanted a customer to come in so badly, save you from this painful conversation with your co-worker. “They’re all busy.” 

“Oh.” Heather quipped, face falling at your tone. 

“I mean, it’s my fault.” You added quickly- defensively. Why you were so defensive over the people who had discarded you so easily, you weren’t sure. “I should have planned something earlier, but… I dunno, I got busy and life got super hectic and it just slipped past me-” 

“-No,” Heather shook her head, curls unmoving with the abundance of Aquanet she used, still. “That’s really shitty of them, all of them. It’s your birthday.” 

You stayed silent, wiping the counter half heartedly, swallowing back the familiar burn in your throat that choked you. “I mean, if it was my girlfriend or my friend, I would be buggin’ about their birthday.” Heather shrugged. 

“Yeah, me too.” You muttered. Bouts of memories pouring back into your mind. How you’d planned a party for Eddie, baked him some stupid cake from scratch that was in the Lord of the Rings. You’d gone to countless second hand stores trying to find the ancient recipe, and it took you a day to perfect. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to take you out? Get you a cheap store bought cake? 

“I’m sorry.” Heather muttered, a solemn, nearly guilty pout on her lips. “Well, you’re off tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I get off at three. What if we go out? We can go to the bar- oh, there’s this new band playing in Franklin. Tommy could drive us.” Heather, ever the bubbly optimist, grinned, eyes shining with pride. It was endearing, made your heart squeeze with an ache you weren’t quite sure how to describe. 

“I’ll even get you a cupcake. A good one, from Nadia’s.” Heather added. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You shook your head lightly. You and Heather were work friends, hung out on the rare occasion after work to bitch about work, about the other coworkers, the pain-in-the-ass customers of the day over glasses of Pinot. Selfishly, it felt nice to have someone excited for your birthday. 

You hated that you wished it was Eddie, your own friends. 

“What’s your flavor, hm? Chocolate?” Heather pressed, brushing you off cheerily. 

“Don’t get me a cupcake. I’ll throw it up if we’re drinking. All the icing and liquor.” You snarled your nose playfully. 

“Fine. I’m buying you a drink then.” Heather nodded. She paused, nails drumming on the counter too. “And, I mean, if you want Eddie to come too, of course he’s invited.” Her eyes cut to yours carefully. “I didn’t know if you wanted him to come.” 

“I mean, I don’t know if he’d even be able to.” Your lips pursed, a cutting edge of annoyance in your tone. “He’s so busy.” 

Heather cringed, shooting you an apologetic look. “Yeah, that… I’m sorry, that sucks.” She mumbled. 

A stiff silence fell between the two of you over the whirr of the air conditioning blowing through the vents. “Since it’s so dead, why don’t you go early?” Heather suggested. “I can cover closing.” 

“Heather, Mel will be pissed-” 

“-Mel will be pissed if she has to pay both of us for standing around.” Heather gave you a pointed look. “And you came in before me. I got it.” 

“Are you sure?” You hesitated. “I don’t care to stay in case there’s a rush-” 

“-At seven?” Heather scoffed slightly. “Go. I’ve got it.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m on my way, ‘kay?” Heather chirped. 

“See you then.” You waved, cringing at the sing-songy Happy birthday! Heather shouted at you. 

You pulled open your cubby, gathering your purse, your umbrella. You wrote your time on the clipboard, the phone taunting you on the hook next to it. Any other day, you’d call Eddie- call home or the shop, wherever he was, just to let him know you’d be home early. He’d always reply with a silly comment that had your cheeks rushing with heat, warmth swelling in your chest. 

Tonight, you decided against it. He was too busy, anyway. Too busy at the shop, with his friends, at band practice. You tried not to dwell on it, let your mind spiral and spin down a damning dark hole of what ifs. It consumed you anyways, on your drive home, the radio playing on a static filled station that you didn’t bother to change. Background noise drowned out by your own hammering heart. 

Eddie’s van was parked in the gravel of his driveway, leaving just enough space for you to slide in under the covering attached to the trailer. He always let you have that spot, closer to the door, protected from the elements- so considerate. 

It was hard to fathom that it was the same boy who had forgotten your birthday, brushed it off like it was just another day. 

Your throat tightened around the ever growing lump, hands tight from the white knuckled grip you had on the wheel when you turned the keys out of the ignition. The stairs squeaked under your weight, the screen door hissing with the familiar soft screech when you pulled it open. 

“No- Henderson, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Eddie huffed, his voice trailing in from the living room. 

You paused, hand catching the door as it fell, quieting it as it latched. The air was thick, warm with a sticky, sweet smell. Music playing in a low hum from Eddie’s beloved boom box he kept in the living room. 

“You said to hang it!” Dustin’s shrill tone cut through the air. 

“Yeah, hang it high- Jesus Christ, I shoulda just waited until Robin got off.” Eddie was hidden by the wall, but you could practically see him pinching his nose, hand running over his curly bangs. “Can you- Can you go see if we can ice the cake yet?” 

“Yeah, what do I do?” Dustin questioned, a silence falling between the two of them. Your lips curled, swallowing a giggle. “What? I’m not a master chef or something. You act like I should know this. There wasn’t a cake making class-” 

“-There was, you moron. Home Ec, which clearly, you failed.” Eddie huffed in annoyance. You froze at his heavy footsteps, voice carrying closer and closer.“Whatever, can you- just make it look nice in here? Put the rest of the streamers up and- shit!” Eddie flinched, jumping at the sight of you in the doorway. Wide eyed and still, like you’d been caught. 

“Baby,” Eddie’s breath startled. “Hey, uh, what are you- you said you didn’t get- you’re home already?” His voice lifted, carried high in a squeak of surprise. 

“Yeah, I got off early. I thought you were working late.” Your brows furrowed at the tear of plastic, leaning to look around the corner. “What are you doing-” 

“-Don’t look in there.” Eddie snapped, his hand falling on the doorframe, arm blocking your vision. You jumped, glaring at him with annoyance. “I thought you closed tonight?” 

“I thought you closed tonight.” You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Clearly that’s not true. What is this? Another campaign night?” You rolled your eyes, body burning with irritation, jaw wound tight with it. 

“What? N-No, I-I thought you wouldn’t be home until later, and I’d have more time-” Eddie rambled, side stepping to block your view behind him. 

“-Ed, I don’t care if that’s what it is.” Your shoulders deflated, a wave of painful exhaustion, disappointment falling over you. “I just wish you would’ve let me know before you invite all these people over to play your game, so I could-” A shimmering glimmer of multicolored sequins caught your eyes, shining in the yellowed light of the kitchen, iridescent hued droplets cast over the cabinets. There, draped over the chair in bright, glittering letters, a small sash that read Happy Birthday! in obnoxiously big letters. 

You paused, eyes scanning towards the cake, cooling on the rack next to the mixing bowl of icing, the icing spatula still in it. Paper mache streamers taped to the ceiling, hung in swooping bouts mixed with the shiny streamers and balloons all the way to the living room. Eddie had brought out the folding table from the crawl space, even put a plastic tablecloth from the store over it to hide the yellowing stains that would never fade. 

Dustin’s eyes met yours, wide and darting between you and Eddie, still holding the roll of streamers he’d yet to hang. “Uh, Happy Birthday?” Dustin shrugged. 

Eddie huffed, shaking his head at him. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry, it was supposed to be a surprise.” Eddie’s foot bounced with anxious adrenaline. “I thought you didn’t get off until eight, and-and I had it all planned, sweetheart, I really did. Steve’s getting the pizza, and everyone’s coming over at seven thirty-ish, and I- I was even going to have them park at Wayne’s in the back so you wouldn’t see.” 

Your chest felt deflated, void of any air, words, anything. Eddie chewed on his lip, hands twitching next to his jeans. “It was going to be this whole thing, fuck!” He huffed. “It was going to be a whole big thing, and…” 

Eddie’s heart leapt when your eyes finally met his. His fingers still drummed against the rough material of his jeans, veins filled with icy excitement, fear, anticipation? He wasn’t sure. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, stepping to hover over you, voice dropping to a soft coo, hands sliding over your cheeks. “I’m- I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

You swallowed thickly. Eddie’s touch was soft, but it left you with a tingling burn when his thumb delicately traced your cheek bone. “You- This is for me?” You squeaked. 

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, brows creasing. “Well, yeah.” He said playfully. “Who else would it be for?” 

Your brain was deafeningly silent, stunned at every new detail you’d discover. “You said you were busy.” Was all you could muster out, blinking up at Eddie. “You said you had to work late.” 

“I might have fibbed a little.” Eddie tilted his head sillily. “Told a little lie so I could get this set up.” He nodded towards the living room, a balloon floating near the doorway. 

“I just really wanted to surprise you.” Eddie’s shoulders fell. “I was trying to outdo you. Tryna out do what you did for mine. I called all your friends- even Alexandra,” You rolled your eyes at the mention, she was Eddie’s least favorite friend of yours. 

“And I… I just wanted to surprise you.” Eddie blinked down at you. “Just wanted your day to be special.” 

Your day, the phrase wrapped around you, swirled through your veins like a warm hug, squeezing your heart. 

“I’m sorry, it… I didn’t think about work.” Eddie shook his head, running a hand over his forehead. “I didn’t even think about it, and I-” 

“-Eddie,” Your voice caught in your throat. 

Eddie tensed, cringing with expectant dread. He’d ruined it, blew it, the tears were coming and they were deserved. You’d done so well on his, surprised the hell out of him with the cake, decorated for his birthday campaign with lanterns and candles you’d thrifted. Gone all out for him, and he couldn’t even pull off a simple surprise party. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, head pressing to yours. His eyes cut around the room, making sure a certain Henderson pest was lurking. 

“Sorry?” You repeated. “Eddie, I-I am surprised.” You choked out, looking around the room with gleaming eyes. 

Eddie paused. “You are?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I thought you’d forgotten.” You admitted. “I thought everyone had forgotten.”  

Eddie’s brows pinched in a confused scowl. “You thought I’d forget?” He muttered. 

A watery laugh fell from your lips before you could stop it. “Yeah.” You admitted. “You were really convincing.” 

Eddie’s chest boasted playfully. “Oscar worthy?” 

“You’d sweep the competition.” You jested back, arms sliding over his forearms. His hands found home on the small of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“I didn’t forget your birthday.” Eddie said softly. “Just… for the record.” 

“I can see that.” You giggled. “Thank you. It’s-It’s really sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” Eddie’s hands rubbed down your spine. “It would look better but… Robin and Nancy didn’t get off until later, and it’s just me and Henderson.” 

“It looks great. Perfect.” Your cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His nice shirt, Eddie always called it. Broke it out for special occasions. 

“Not perfect. Fucked up the main part.” Eddie grumbled. “I can call everyone, let them know that they can park out front since there’s no surprise anymore.” 

“No, don’t do that.” You shook your head lightly, chin propping against his chest to look up at him. “I’ll leave and come back, and you can still do it. I can pretend to be surprised.” 

Eddie’s lips curled, pulling back to look down at you. “You’re gonna pretend?” He tilted his head. 

“My turn to act.” You teased, brow lifting gently. “Give you some competition.” You poked his tummy playfully. 

Eddie grinned, pulling you back into him, lips sliding over yours in a soft kiss you savored. Melting into each other, fusing into a gooey puddle- it was corny, a cliche. One you’d roll your eyes at if it was anyone else. 

“Happy birthday.” Eddie muttered, lips brushing and tickling your own. 

“Thank you.” You whispered back, hands finding the base of his neck, pushing him back into you. Eddie’s hand fell against the wooden door frame, steadying himself in a rapidly heating makeout. 

“Uh,” Dustin’s voice interrupted the two of you, just as Eddie’s hands were sliding under your work blouse. “Yeah, I-I finished with the streamers.” 

Eddie glared at him, jaw ticking in annoyance when you pulled away. “I’m just going to grab my makeup bag, and I’ll go.” You whispered, cheeks flooding with heat. 

Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes at Dustin when you left. “What? What did I do?” Dustin threw his hands out. 

“Such a fuckin’ cock block, Henderson.” Eddie muttered, stomping into the kitchen. “Put the plates and shit out, will ya?” 

Your performance was Oscar worthy, Eddie decided later, when you stepped through the door of the now darkened trailer, gasping when the lights flickered on and everyone jumped out. You looked positively radiant, glowing with excitement at the small crowd of friends crammed into the doorway. Eddie kissed you, sloppier than he should have, especially in front of everyone, but he didn’t care. Overwhelmed with affection for you. 

He couldn’t tell if you were still pretending when he brought out the cake, the room singing in a harmonious tone to you, candles lit and glowing in the dim light. Eddie didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled, fingers pressed to your lips at the now iced cake. When your fingers curled under his chin, sharing a fork-full of cake with him, kissing him after so quickly it left his head spinning. 

His birthday girl, it was your day. Eddie never thought he’d love a random day as much as he did. He had no idea how important that day would become when he’d first met you, how it would engrave itself in his mind forever. 

He was glad it did. Looking at you, giggling with your friends on the couch, then again, the next night, singing with Heather at the crowded bar- Eddie’s chest heart swelled. Proud that he’d surprised you, hopeful that he’d get to for the rest of his life. 

Next year, he’d do it right. Really pull off the party you deserved. He’d start saving now, planning too. He decided it that night, tucked between the sheets, your head still on his sweat soaked chest. He could still taste you on his tongue, lips numb from the time he’d spent between your legs. Lashes fluttering in sleep, curled into him, Eddie pulled you closer. He’d get it right next year, you deserved it. 

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 9 — PREDATOR ﾉ PREY. gallagher x f!reader ﾉ delivering this basket to your grandmother sounds easy enough until you find out 1) she’s not home and 2) someone else is.

NOTE — submission for @pixelcafe-network’s challenge friday #4. i was assigned little red riding hood for our fairytale theme!

CONTAINS — established relationship; acting ﾉ role playing. predator/prey (wolf!gallagher), tw consensual non-consent (tw cnc), oral (receiving), muffling (glove), fingering, squirting, overstim, pet names, fear play & size kink if you squint ^^;

ᘏ explicit smut (18+) — link to sign up for my taglist & to view mlist!

The forest seems to be much quieter than usual.

You subconsciously pick up the pace to ease your mind. It’s as if the birds have unanimously decided to go somewhere else to sing— and even the rabbits you typically feed on your way to your grandmother’s place are nowhere to be found today.

It’s completely silent aside from your own footsteps— the only noise apart from the thoughts in your head. It’s a bit odd, you think… the sun is still out, and the weather has been clear lately. Absolutely nothing’s wrong— from what you can see, at least.

Is it just something in the air today?

You’re struck with a sense of uneasiness as soon as you reach her home. Even her door looks a bit ominous. Certainly not as cheerful and inviting as you’ve grown used to, but you chalk it up to your nerves from the strange silence. A knock would probably be fine.

Your hand hovers hesitantly over the door before you swallow your paranoia and knock once, gulping when the noise practically echoes throughout her home.

A chill runs down your spine. “..Hello?”

It falls silent again, and the fear returns to your chest. “..Grandmother? I brought you a basket of goods from the village…”

The door seems to creek open on its own at this— just enough for you to nervously peer inside. It’s empty… and normal. Everything seems to be in place- as if your grandmother had simply just vanished from the Earth. It sends another wash of nerves down your spine, but you shake it off and continue towards her bedroom.

“It has….” you call out to no one in particular, taking slow, cautious steps down the hall. “..Apples. We baked you a cake too. It’s small though— we put some strawberries in it— um.. G-Grandmother?”

You stiffen as soon as you enter her bedroom, as if on instinct. Something isn’t right- your mind must be playing tricks on you. She’s.. she’s in bed? She still doesn’t say anything to you, even when the old wood creeks underneath your weight.

It’s not right— doesn’t look right. Something’s very, very off about this. Every muscle in your body locks in place when you try to speak. “Who…. who.. are you?”

Whatever is hiding behind the blankets starts to move, and you stumble a couple steps backwards, eyes widening when it finally looks back at you— or you should really say— when he finally looks back at you.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat. That is not your grandmother.

The fight or flight response takes less than a second to kink in. You’re running faster than you think you’re even capable of, racing to the door before you could manage to let out a single scream. The world is reduced to a blur when you swiftly turn the corner—

It’s right there. You hear him chasing after you, but the door is right there. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Just a little further and—

A large hand loops around your wrist, and your body suddenly jerks backwards. “O-ow—mmph!” You stumble backwards before your back roughly collides against his chest, and the other hand clasps around your mouth only a second later.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you hear him chuckle when you try to claw against his arm, “just where do you think you’re going?”

He’s strong- and you’re sure he knows this. Doesn’t hesitate when he lets go of your wrist to snake an arm around your waist and pull you flush against him. His arms feel big around you too.

“Hmmm…” he hums, and you gasp when you feel him dip down to take a sharp inhale directly into your pulse point, “not so fast, you lil’ rabbit.”

He laughs a bit when you try to say something against his palm. Laughs hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of his chest. His body feels warm when he tightens his embrace around you— and it’s only then when you realize whatever’s pressing into your ass feels even warmer. It feels big.

“There’s no need to panic…”

You struggle anyways. Push and jerk back hard enough to stumble and fall onto your knees, and he takes the opportunity to pin both your hands behind your back and hold you still for him.

“W-wait!”

“Hm?” He suddenly stills behind you, and the hold on your wrists loosens a little. You don’t say anything else. No mention of that word that’ll get him to stop in an instant… nothing but an impatient sway of your hips.

He lets out a gentle sigh.

“Don’t make so much noise,” he flips up your dress, and you suck in a deep breath. “It’s nothing personal. Wolf’s gotta eat. And you happen to look delicious.”

“I-I’m.. not. Please don’t kill me,” you start to beg, craning your neck to plead with the man looming over you. “I don’t think— don’t think I’ll be delicious.”

He laughs at this too. Enough to let go of your hands, and your palms slam onto the wooden floor to catch yourself from falling. “Oh, you’re just too cute, aren’t you? Making deals with a wolf? What a bold, bold girl you are.”

Your eyes widen when he slips off a glove before balling it up in his fist. “Okay then. Just one taste. If you make it, then that’s good for you, isn’t it?”

It’s your only shot. Your only chance. You give in and nod, and the smile he returns sets the deal in stone. You’d be the helpless bunny under him, and he’d be the hungry wolf.

“Mm—!” the glove is roughly pushed into your mouth the next moment, and he’s pulling your hips back towards him. “Can’t have you making too much noise, sweet bunny. What if the other animals hear and want a taste of my meal? We can’t have that, can we?

“So better behave yourself.”

You clench your eyes shut. It’s the only way you can hide. You close them tight, ball your fists up and wait for him to have his way. It doesn’t help that you’re soaked— you know you are, and you know he’ll say something about—

“Soaked through your panties?”

He pulls the fabric aside to press his palm over your cunt, and a needy whine threatens to slip out. “What? Dying to get eaten out here?” Gallagher puts a little more pressure into it now— pushes his fingertips against your clit and you jolt. How sensitive. Exactly what he wants.

“N-no! I’m not..”

“Oh,” a deep laugh erupts from his chest again, “really now? Then how do you explain this mess?”

He slides a finger inside, and the noise that follows makes your face burn. That wet? Actually that wet? No way.

“A—ah!”

He never planned on letting you respond in the first place. He starts lewdly fucking the digit in and out of you, curling it deep inside you and it’s loud. It’s embarrassing. Your thighs start to tremble from the movements— body instantly recognizing the familiar touch.

Just like a domesticated pet. “Mm. You’re drenched.”

“Gonna cover me in it before we even start?” You shake your head adamantly, and he huffs. “Haven’t even gotten a taste yet, bunny.”

“So… let’s see. Let me… take a look first.”

Every muscle in your body freezes when you feel his breath fan against your cunt. He’s so close— you can feel each exhale against your clit— feels good. Feels really, really good.

“U-um…” you mumble into your arm.

“That’s just right,” he laughs, and your walls flutter around nothing. The position he’s holding you in makes your heart pound. You’ve never had it like this. Cheek pressed against the floor and your hips held up high for him. There’s nothing for you to grab onto— nothing to hold— leaves you with no other choice but to hide your face in your arms and let him have you however he wishes. “What a treat. I’m gonna devour you whole.”

D-Devour?

It happens too fast for you. Starts with one, slow, long stripe up your cunt— he uses the flat of his tongue to get a good taste of you and you shiver and whimper.

Gallagher stills, tongue still flat against your cunt. The noise that leaves his throat next is akin to a growl— rumbles against your clit and fills your core with heat— and then it’s over just like that. The grip around your hips tighten abruptly, and he’s buried deep in your cunt the next second.

“A-ah!” You cry into your own hands, eyes rolling back into your skull. It’s messy— nothing short of primal. He laps at your cunt, flicks his tongue at your clit and pulls you flush against his face. You can’t run from it— can’t squirm or budge with the way he’s holding you like captured prey. “F-fuck!” You manage to choke out a curse, and you feel him laugh against you again.

“A vulgar little bunny, aren’t you? Thought I told you not to attract others to my meal, didn’t I? Where’s the silence?” His grip around your thighs tighten, and you yelp. “I don’t like getting distracted while I eat.”

Your hands clasp harder against your mouth as soon as the words register in your ears. Eyes clenched shut, thighs going numb, and the sound of him devouring you whole is even louder than you could ever be.

It all feels too good. Way too good. Too good for your mind to even comprehend that you’re getting close.

You don’t expect your orgasm to hit you like a truck. It comes out of nowhere and you cum hard, screaming into your fingers as you gush all over his face.

But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. Gallagher doesn’t slow down even when you twitch and tremble violently from the aftershocks.

“A-ah, I— wait…!” He gives another squeeze around your thighs, and you think you get the message.

animated dividers by @ cafekitsune !! <3

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle a.d.

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader prompt: Imagine being that parent who always brings baked goods to the PTA meetings and generally getting along with everyone really well. But for some reason Art Donaldson says something that rubs you the wrong way one night. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, adults acting like horny teenagers, flashbacks, not proofread word count: 2.4K a/n: I wrote this in one sitting just from seeing this post 🤭

part ii | part iii | part iv | part v

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

He notices he’s offended you by the way you stop talking directly to him, looking everywhere but him. Smiling at everyone but him. You’re giving your undivided attention to anyone who speaks but when he opens his mouth you seem much more interested in your nails.

Art has known you since he's been coming to these meetings. He knows that you offer a polite smile to everyone, but he'd grown used to the small smiles you'd give him. The secret grins and the sarcastic eye rolls you shared with him when Nancy got a bit too controlling or when Dan overshared about his marriage.

You would playfully nudge his elbow when Cynthia inevitably brought up her small knitting business. You’d been initially interested, always loving a good sweater, until you found out the only things she knit were small replicas of pets.

You would discreetly play tic tac toe or hangman on a napkin while the more aggressive moms argued about where to host the next school event, or when the guest speaker for the night would drone on and on.

Once, you baked snickerdoodle cookies and Art ate three of them in one sitting, then asked to take some home for “Lily.” So, you made sure to bake snickerdoodle cookies almost every time you brought snacks. Everyone knew the circular red tin you’d bring was Art’s.

The two of you didn’t really talk outside of the PTA, but Art considered you his friend at these things.

Which is why he should've known not to bring up your recently divorced ex-husband during the meeting. He’d simply been trying to make sure the headcount for this year’s Fall Fest committee was right after Nancy had thrusted the clipboard into his hands. He was tasked with making sure everyone on the list was still showing up. When Art asked you if your husband would still be attending, you went silent, your lips tensing up like you’d tasted something sour.

“Are you really asking me that right now?”

Art stammered. “I just wasn’t sure…”

You scoffed at him disbelieving.

“Well when he finally gets his head out of that whore’s ass then maybe he’ll be able to let you know.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Before he hands the clipboard back, he makes sure to draw a line through your ex-husband’s name.

Art tries to apologize after the meeting is over. Insisting on walking you to your car and carrying your dessert containers back for you. His self deprecating little smile makes you roll your eyes, but you turn for him to follow you anyway. You silently lead the way to your car keeping a couple steps ahead of him. Despite his attempts to look away, Art’s eyes stay glued to the sway of your hips the whole way.

Once you pop the trunk and gesture for him to place the containers down, you finally look him in the eyes for the first time since he’d pissed you off. Art shoves his hands in his pockets, telling you he’s really sorry for what he said. That he wasn’t thinking. He wants to make it up to you.

You purse your lips, look at the way his eyes seem hopeful yet a little too pleading for an offense so small. You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features before eventually telling him that “it’s fine,” and that you forgive him. He seems to visibly relax at this and you can’t help wondering why he would be so hung up on your forgiveness. After all, it was really an overreaction on your part.

You tell him as much and reassure him that you don’t need anything, he doesn’t need to make it up to you. He grabs your hand then, insisting that he wants to.

Art has always been this way, you think, all placating and overly apologetic when he thinks he’s done something wrong. You’d chalked it up to the media training you know he must’ve received. Being agreeable probably made his PR manager’s job ten times easier. Not that you didn’t believe he was genuinely a kind person, but you knew even Art might be overcompensating every now and then.

You’d seen the way he could be snarky without remorse before. The two of you would basically laugh about it later. You’d also seen how he never hid the way his eyes would linger on your cleavage. The way he’d give you a small, bashful smile when you’d catch him, his smirk only growing wider the more you blushed.

Art Donaldson could be sneaky.

ᯓ

He’d never been ashamed about being touchy with you. Placing a warm hand on your arm or back when greeting one another, letting his fingers skim your hand on the table next to his while he listened to speakers. The touching seemed innocent enough until one night when he’d walked you to your car after the two of you had stayed longer. You had been distracted during the meeting.

Art stayed and listened as you told him about your husband and how he’d come home late after you planned a romantic evening for the two of you the night before. You made sure your son was at your parents’ house, made his favorite meal, and lit candles around the house. The two of you had decided to schedule date nights per your therapist’s suggestion. When 1 am rolled around, and your husband had returned none of your calls, you scraped the food into tupperware containers and got ready for bed. He came home with apologies and excuses about getting caught up in the office. He had already eaten, and he smelled of a perfume you didn’t own but had grown to recognize.

That night, you told Art that you were sure your husband was cheating on you. He told you that he understood how you felt. You didn’t believe him. Tashi was perfect.

After your tears had dried, and Art managed to pull a few laughs out of you, the both of you decided it was time to call it a night. You moved to give Art a casual hug, but he wrapped his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t help but melt into it, burying your face in his chest. You remembered him smelling warm, like amber.

Art had rubbed your back as he held you, whispered that he was sorry that your husband was a dumbass. You huffed out a laugh, pulling away to look at him. He’d brought his hand up to your cheek, his other hand on the small of your back. You smiled at him through your eyelashes before letting your head drop down with a sigh.

Your cheeks burned as you took in how your legs were tangled with his. Art had tilted his head to get a better look at you again, but you’d stuck to hiding your face against his chest.

He huffed and let his chin fall to your shoulder. You still refused to look his way, turning to watch some trees. You felt both his hands on your back now.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered.

“That we said we should go home like 5 min ago.” His hands traveled lower. “You?” You asked shakily. You could feel his breath warm against your neck.

“That I might not be any better than your husband.”

Your eyes widened. Art’s palms firmly cupped your ass. In contrast, his lips were pressed gently to the skin of your neck.

“Art!” Your hands flew to his hair.

He laughed into your neck.

You slapped his arm, but when his eyes met yours and his lips were mere inches away from yours, you let your eyes flutter shut.

His breath fanned your lips. He smelled like snickerdoodle cookie.

Then, his phone rang.

Art had pulled away from you, turning around to answer the call. You could tell it was Tashi. He’d been honest, telling her that he’d stayed late talking to you. At the mention of your name, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Tashi says hi.”

ᯓ

The two of you never brought up the almost kiss again, but you knew Art hadn’t been sorry. The next time he saw your husband, he’d smirked and told him how lucky he was to have such a great wife. Your husband, ever the narcissist, soaked it all in, pulling you in by the waist, showing you off like a shiny toy. When he turned away, Art had winked at you.

ᯓ

So, you know that Art is either laying it on thick or feels extremely remorseful about reminding you of your cheating ex-husband.

When he grabs your hand, insisting on finding some way to make it up to you, you see a look of desperation in his eyes that looks new.

Your eyes drop to where his large hand covers your own, then they travel up his toned arm until you find his face, flitting between his eyes and his lips. And for some reason, you’re leaning in. Maybe it’s your way of reassuring him that you guys are good. Either way, he’s not moving back. You’re gripping his forearm with your free hand and suddenly your lips are on his.

You’re not sure if it was his tongue or yours that first went seeking out the other, but now you two are sharing sloppy kisses on the empty school parking lot.

When his left palm presses into your cheek and you feel that cold metal band sting your skin, you pull away with a gasp, remembering where you are, who he is, and that he has a damn wedding ring on. This is Art. PTA Art. You know his wife, for god’s sake. You’ve hosted play dates between their daughter and your son. You carpool with them. You curse and back away from him.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have...”

Art shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He’s looking at you with those damn eyes again. Like he’ll break if you say the wrong thing.

“I—we, we shouldn’t have done that, Art.”

He shakes his head again. Your palm comes up to hold him back, but it doesn’t work as he simply grabs ahold of the hand on his chest and presses himself against you more. His forehead comes down to lean on yours. His eyes closed.

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. “I want you.”

“But you’re married Art…”

“I want you.” He repeats. “I’ve wanted you…for awhile now.”

And though you already know this, it still shocks you that he’s actually saying it now. Before you have time to register it, he’s back on you and you don’t know if it’s because you’re afraid to break him or if you’ve just always been this selfish, but you let him press you against the trunk of your car. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, let his big hands knead the flesh of your hips and ass. Let him lick and nip at your neck, nibble on your earlobe.

You let Art push you into the backseat of your car. You let him settle between your legs, guiding his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He’s pressing his hips into yours rocking against you as he pushes your top up. Art’s hands frantically work at your bra, impatiently bending the wire in the process of taking it off. You gasp at his eagerness but can’t say anything as he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple making you arch your back up off the leather seats. His hands are gripping your thighs and shoving your skirt up when he releases your nipple with a pop.

He’s up long enough to tear his shirt off and for your equally impatient hands to reach for his pants. His shorts are barely past his balls before he’s back on you. Kissing all over your lips, jaw, neck. Art groans when his fingers find their way to your soaked underwear, rubbing his thumb from your slit to your clit through the fabric. You whine and rock your hips into each movement. You pant into his open mouth as he pulls them to the side, letting the air hit your bare cunt. He dips his thumb into your entrance then drags it up to sloppily circle your clit.

You’re moaning loudly into his mouth, begging him for more. Art smiles against your lips as he takes himself in his hand. He lets his head sweetly kiss your sticky clit, and he asks if you want him to put it in.

You nod eagerly.

"Yeah?" He grunts, tapping his head against you in a taunting manner.

You nod again and let him press against your opening.

Art covers your mouth with his when he finally pushes into you, stifling both of your moans. He gets his arms around your waist, holding you as he rocks into your pussy. You’re whimpering and squeezing around him like you haven’t had dick in years, and Art thinks he might pass out when you start bucking up into him and begging him to fuck you.

He doesn’t even care that he won’t last long. He can’t deny you. So, he wraps your thighs tighter around his waist and pushes himself forward. Your mouth falls open as Art slides out and pushes back into you with a grunt. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at the short strands. You mouth at his jaw as his thighs slap against you.

Art buries his head into your neck as he frantically fucks into your tight hole, and he’s whining that he’s close. His fingers that have been playing with your clit are slippery with your juices and you clench your thighs, nodding with him in agreement.

You end up letting Art Donaldson cum inside you. You let him rub your clit until you orgasm around his dick that’s still buried in you.

You let him help you redress. He’d winced when he saw the mess he made of you between your legs. You ignore the way you can tell he wants to say sorry.

Once you’re both dressed and you’re standing against your car with wobbly legs, Art tells you that he still wants to make it up to you.

You roll your eyes.

“Good night, Art.” You get into the driver’s seat.

“I’m serious.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle. You look back at him and his pleading eyes and his pathetic yet charming smile.

“Your wife has my number.”

And then, you shut the door.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: reader reminds me of Anna Kendrick’s character in A Simple Favor, sweet but also kinda toxic

thanks for inspiring this @artdcnaldson <3

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 5

Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R

Summary: The evolution of your relationship with Wanda. Includes some smut.

Always late. You’ve learned the lesson, so you don’t even bother with the coffee, because it’s cold by the time you leave the house.

Of course, you didn’t have time to do groceries either so you’re stuck with an almost rotten banana.

As you leave the house, Wanda opens up the door of her own home, calling for the twins.

You smile, while she signals for you to walk over.

“Hey, beautiful” you say, admiring her outfit. You know she has a meeting with her editor. “All ready for today?”

“Yeah, it’s just the kids are late. Boys, come on” she turns back to you, smiling. “Here. I packed you lunch”

“How did you know I have nothing edible?” you swoon, taking the brown paper bag, and leaning to kiss her. She hums against your lips and you feel her little smile. “You’re out of this world, Miss Maximoff”

Wanda wants to prolong the contact, but hears the kids stomping down the stairs and you break apart. Yes, you’ve spent more time with them, basically whenever you’re off work. But there hasn’t been the awkward “what are we” talk and the subsequent chat of how to tell Billy and Tommy. If there’s anything to tell, that is.

“Hey, Y/N” Billy says, throwing his bagpack in the trunk of the car.

“Are you coming for dinner tonight? We just defeated Rypto!” Tommy says excitedly.

“I have to work for the next day and a half, but after that, sure”

The boys nod, disappointed and Wanda rolls her eyes.

“I’m a little jealous of how much they like you. Seems like I’m their second favorite person now” she says in a low voice, your eyes traveling to her lips.

“You are my favorite person, in case that helps” you admit, making her blush.

“Have a good day” Wanda says, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to kiss her.

“Text you later” you promise, squeezing her hand and walking to your own car, hoping your shift goes by soon, eager to have Wanda in your arms again.

The day starts normal enough. It’s more paperwork than consults or any emergency, but you still make your rounds and review the pending discharged patients.

For once, you get to have lunch at a decent time, eager to eat whatever it is Wanda made for you.

There’s a chicken sandwich, from yesterday’s leftovers of that heavenly paprikash dish she made, a couple of cookies and a note.

“Have a nice day. XOXO - W”

“Where’d you get those cookies?” Darcy says, approaching you. Holding the container close to your chest, you growl at her. “No, bad Cujo!”

In spite of your best efforts, she snatches one of the cookies.

“These are fantastic cookies”

“Wanda made them”

“Oh, did Mommy pack you lunch?” Darcy says in a fake baby voice and you glare.

“Keep that up and I’m not sharing any more cookies, Lewis”

“I was kidding. I love you, friend” she bats her eyelashes, sitting next to you. “So, is the sex better than the baked goods?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t done it yet” you admit, avoiding her eyes.

“Because…”

“Because the kids are always around or I’m too tired… I don’t know. We’re just spending time together and seeing where it goes”

“And how does that make you feel?” Darcy says, reaching for another cookie.

“It’s fine… but I guess it’s all new to me. I dated in college, but ever since I started working here all I do is be at the hospital… and be with people from the hospital”

“And now you’re in this potential relationship, where she has two kids. Talk about going from 0 to 100” Darcy pats your back and you nod. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N. All you have to do is talk it out”

“Thanks, Darcy. Here, you earned half of the last cookie”

“Half? That was solid advice” she mumbles, chewing on it.

You laugh, promising you’ll share more cookies the next time Wanda makes some. She leaves to supervise a resident doing an appy, and you go back to the ER.

“Help! Someone!” you see a paramedic with blood all over his shirt.

“Drax, what’s wrong?”

“Peter was turning around the corner, after dropping someone off and a car crashed against the ambulance”

“Ok, let’s go. Bishop, you’re with me. Page Chief Fury” you ask a nurse, the young resident following you closely.

As soon as you turn around the block, you spot the ambulance and make out Quill’s body, hanging upside down.

“Bring stretchers for the other driver and his passenger” you tell Kate. With a sigh, you kneel next to the ambulance, crawling between broken glass. You notice a sharp pain in your elbow, but lean forward until you’re touching Quill’s neck, looking for a pulse.

As soon as you touch him, he jolts awake, screaming.

“Ah, Jesus, Quill” you curse, hitting your head against the dashboard.

“What happened?” he looks around, disoriented.

“Someone crashed into you. Do you feel anything strange?”

“I can’t feel my legs” he says, looking at you. You gulp, not knowing what to say.

Peter is your friend, even if you only see each other at work. He’s the guy that shares his snacks, that cracks a joke when you’re down just to make you laugh. A man that you’ve known for three years, and now you have to tell him he might not make it.

“What do we got?” Fury shows up on the other side.

“Just hanging” Quill jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to even smile. “I can’t breath, there’s pressure in my chest”

“Hold on tight, the firemen are on their way to get you out” Fury asks, signaling for you to meet him around the ambulance while Kate takes his vitals.

“What do you think?”

“It’s not good” you admit in a low voice. “He can’t feel his legs, but I also can’t see anything below his chest. I don’t know what will happen if we move him, Chief”

“But if we don’t…”

“He’s going to die”

“Let’s take care of the pressure on his chest first”

“Should we page cardio?”

“If you can handle it, go ahead. Quill works with you, he trusts you”

You nod, running back to the hospital to get everything you need to treat Quill’s cardiac tamponade. By the time you’re back, Kate is trying to keep him awake.

“He has low blood pressure”

“Come on, Quill, stay with me” you ask, preparing everything. You unbutton his shirt, gloved fingers trying to sense the exact spot to extract the liquid on his chest. It takes you a moment because he is upside down, but you get it and pull the syringe, filling up with dark fluid.

You and Kate sigh with relief as Quill gasps for air, opening his eyes.

“Did I die for a second?” he says, coughing. “Doc, I need you to tell something to Gamora”

“Quill, tell her yourself when you’re out of here” you try to ignore the request, avoiding the conversation.

“Just tell her to look on my old cassettes, please. She needs to know I did get a ring”

A ring. Fuck. You lock eyes and nod.

“Firemen are here” Kate says, waving at the men.

“Clint Barton” the man introduces himself, assessing the mess around Quill. “We’ll do everything we can to help him” he promises, and you nod.

As they begin to work, you go back next to Quill, trying to distract him.

“Got any music?”

“Sure” you pull out your phone, handing it over so he can play whatever he wants.

Come and get your love starts playing and you both sing. Three more songs pass before Barton lets you know they are ready to release him.

“Bishop and Drax, ready with the stretcher” you say, the other paramedic getting ready to drag Peter’s body out as soon as he can.

"Hold on. Promise me you'll tell her" Quill says again and you nod.

“3… 2…”

There’s a loud, metallic bang and then Quill’s body falls forward. It all happens in seconds and by the time you walk around the ambulance, Drax is wheeling him to the ER.

For a split second, you think he’s going to be fine because he’s consciouss, looking around.

And then his mouth is full of blood, choking sounds mixing with the noises of the hospital.

“Crash cart” you ask, starting CPR.

“Charge to 200” Fury asks, and you step aside when it’s time.

“I need a round of Epi” you say, urgency in your voice.

Charge, clear, another round.

You’re at it for ten minutes, and you can’t feel your arms, or hear anything else other than the continuous beep of the monitor. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead, but you keep doing CPR.

Just five more minutes.

“That’s enough” Fury says, pushing you aside. “Call it”

“No, Sir”

“Doctor Y/L/N, step away from the patient” he says, his voice booming across the room. You shake your head no, and then turn to the monitor, hoping something changes.

“He was going to propose to his girlfriend. He has to make it. Come on, come on, come on” you mutter.

Fury stands next to you, a soft look on his face.

“He’s gone, Y/N. I’m sorry”

You break down, tears rolling down your face and mixing with the sweat.

Sitting on the hallway, you catch your breath, unaware of the blood dripping from your elbow until Darcy rushes to your side.

“Hey, let’s clean that up, ok?” she says, helping you up.

“What can I do?” Carol approaches, noticing how your eyes are unfocused.

“I think we should call Wanda” Darcy suggests.

“Her phone number should be on Billy’s record, I’ll go get it” Carol nods.

You don’t even react to Darcy as she cleans up the wound, or when she mentions you’ll need a few stitches. She could have done it without the anesthesia and you wouldn’t have noticed.

“Thanks” you say when she’s cleaning up, and the woman leans forward, squeezing your hand.

“Don’t mention it”

—

Wanda recognises the hospital’s number and picks up, expecting everything except Carol’s voice.

“Hello, Doctor Danvers” she says, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Hi, Wanda. It’s about Y/N”

Carol didn’t have to tell her twice. Wanda drives from her editor’s office to the hospital in record time. She notices an ambulance and a fire truck; her heart beats faster at the sight of blood, hoping it’s not yours.

“Wanda?” a short brunette with glasses greets the woman. “Darcy Lewis, come with me”

“Is she hurt?” Wanda asks, getting more worried as Darcy leads her through the staff door.

“Only a cut in her arm. She’s just… shaken” Darcy stops at the door. “One of the paramedics died”

“I’m sorry to hear that”

“Chief Fury said she should go home, we just didn’t want her to be alone”

Darcy finally opens the door, Wanda’s heart breaking at the sight before her.

You’re sitting on the floor, head hanging in defeat between your hands. She can see your fingers threading through the loose hairs of your ponytail, something you do when you’re anxious.

“Y/N” she kneels slowly, and you look up, wiping your tears. “It’s ok. I’m here”

“I’m sorry” you say, and you’re not sure what is it you’re apologizing for.

“None of that, my love. Come on��� she takes your hand, helping you up.

Before leaving the room, you take Darcy’s hand, smiling.

“Thank you, Darcy”

“Get some rest, pal” she says, as Wanda leads you back to her car.

“Let’s go home” Wanda says against your temple, kissing the spot softly.

You don’t say a word during the entire drive, looking out the window. Wanda’s car stops and with it, the radio. The silence finally snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry for the trouble, I hope I didn’t interrupt your meeting”

“It’s fine. Do you…”

“Thanks for the ride” you say, exiting the car. You’re about to walk to your house when Wanda goes after you.

“You can come over. It’s ok”

“I need to shower” you notice how dirty you feel, blood staining parts of your arms and pants.

“Take a shower in my bathroom, and I’ll lend you some clothes”

“You sure?”

“Yes, darling. Now, come on”

You allow her to guide you upstairs, stepping foot in her room for the first time. Wanda leads you to the ensuite bathroom, handing you a towel.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed, ok?”

All you do is nod, and she wishes there was more she could do, but she just silently retreats, giving you space.

The pressure of the water is nice and you feel infinitely better when you step out of the shower, noticing the stitches on your arm with a frown.

“Everything good?” Wanda says as you go down the steps. You nod and she tries to smile. “Did you eat anything? I could prepare something…”

Her words are interrupted by your lips. It’s a short kiss, but you hope it can speak for itself.

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, eyes closed. Allowing her scent to ground you, you breathe.

“What can I do?” Wanda asks, her hands over yours.

“Can we watch tv?”

“Come here” she smiles, taking your hand. She sits on the couch, motioning for you to lay your head on her lap. You’re not really paying attention to the show, but the way she runs her fingers through your hair relaxes you, and you drift off, fast asleep.

By the time you wake up, Wanda is on top of you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck. You smile, appreciating how peaceful she looks. She must sense you staring, because she stirrs awake, yawning.

“Hi” she says, looking around. You smile, your hands going to her lower back, and something shifts inside you. You’re not thinking at all, just acting on your feelings as you take her lips in yours, your tongue asking for permission. Wanda moans and you pull her closer, one of your hands holding her in place while you kiss down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse until her bra is exposed.

“Y/N” she stutters, and you hum against her neck. Wanda forgets what she was about to say when she feels you sucking on the skin, sure that you will leave a mark. When you place your leg between hers, creating friction she gets lost again, until you speed up.

“What’s wrong?” you say, when she stands up, fixing her hair.

“The kids… uh, I should…”

“Wanda” you plead, looking sadly at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you, I…”

“Please talk to me”

Wanda breaths, hoping what she’s about to say won’t push you away.

“I can’t… I feel too much, Y/N. If we do this, if we sleep together, there’s no turning back. Because everyday, I fall in love with you even more. And I’m scared that you’re not going to feel the same”

It’s so stupid of her, to fall in love. You never spoke about the future or expectations. She doesn’t even know if you want kids or marriage, and she comes with two children who are wonderful, but a huge committment.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, please” she starts to ramble again, misinterpreting your silence. “Maybe we should…”

You lean forward, stopping her with a kiss.

“I love you” you say against her lips. As soon as she hears the words, her eyes open.  “Everything about you, everything about the boys you raised and who are so kind and wonderful because they’re like you, Wanda”

“You… I love you too” she laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. She feels relief, happiness, amazement. You kiss the spot where the tear is, leaning your forehead against her temple.

“All these years I’ve been alone and I didn’t realise how lonely it felt until you. I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I love you” she repeats over and over again, her lips against yours. You smile into the kiss, happy that she feels the same.

After a few minutes of kissing and hugging, she pulls apart, sighing.

“We need to tell the kids” she says. Well, that’s certainly not your area of expertise.

“How do you want to do it?”

“Let’s take them out for pizza and just explain everything? They’ll get distracted with the food” Wanda laughs and you nod.

“Alright. That’s a plan” you kiss her again, but your eyes drift down, her blouse still undone.

“Behave” she warns, sitting up.

“Can you blame me?” you sigh, admiring how beautiful she looks.

“Come on, let’s get the boys from soccer practice” she offers her hand and you take it, smiling.

When you leave the house, the sight of your empty driveway reminds you your car is still in the hospital. You have a promise to keep about a certain ring.

“Everything ok?” Wanda says when you stay silent.

“Yeah, I just gotta do some stuff later”

“Ok”

The boys are ecstatic when they see you climb out of the car, running towards you.

“Mom, we have a match next Friday, can Y/N come?” Tommy says as they put their bags in the trunk.

“If she doesn’t have work, sure” Wanda smiles, taking a breath. Understanding that it’s time, you stand next to her, fidgeting with your hands. “Boys, there’s something we want to tell you. Y/N and I are… together”

“How is that?” Billy tilts his head. “Like a girlfriend?”

“Yes, that would be it” Wanda nods, not knowing what else to say. You step in, kneeling so you can look at Tommy and Billy.

“Hey, kiddos. I just want you to know I love you both very much and I love your mom as well. All I want is to take care of you and make her happy. But if you feel weird about it, or you have questions just tell us, ok? Your Mom’s priority will always be you two”

The boys take a second to think and then nod, laughing when you ruffle their hair. Wanda takes your hand, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

“Are we going to have a new baby, then?”

“What?” you turn so fast you almost lose your footing.

“Sally said that’s how babies are made and you’re holding hands right now” Tommy explains.

“Oh, that’s not how babies are made” you laugh it off, in spite of Wanda’s warning glare.

“How are babies made, then?” Billy says and you go pale.

Yeap, walked right into that one. Wanda seems to be unwilling to help, as she tried to stop you.

“Who wants pizza?” you say, the kids forgetting about their question and running to the car. “That was the most stressful moment of my life and I’m a trauma surgeon”

You collapse in Wanda’s arms, breathing out.

“Come on, drama queen” she laughs, kissing your temple. “Let’s get some food, and maybe later you can show me how babies are made?”

“Mmhm” you nod, your brain turning to mush. “Tease”

—

“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” Wanda speaks and you’re half listening, as if her words are from a distant dream.

“Sure” you say against her skin, kissing and licking the column of her neck. She holds on to your shoulders as you go down, and you feel her shake in your lap.

“Wait. I’m asking for a reason”

“Ok” you nod, breaking apart.

“Would you like to do something after the game?” Wanda says and you wonder why she’s so nervous.

“Yeah, like take them to the movies?”

“No, the boys will be at a sleepover. I meant you and me”

“Oh” you say, heart beating faster at the implication. You’ll have the house to yourselves for the first time since you started dating.

“I can make dinner and we’ll stay in” Wanda offers.

“You’re always making dinner, baby”

“It’s just pasta, the easiest thing in the world”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m a terrible cook” you smile against her lips. “My offer for a dinner date somewhere nice stands”

“You can bring a fancy bottle of wine and dessert” she offers.

“I can think of a few things for dessert” you blurt out, eyes going down her body.

The way her eyes darken tells you she got the hint, so you change positions, you on top of her as she giggles.

“I love you” you kiss her, but your pager interrupts you. “And I have to go”

“You sure you have to go?” she asks, her legs around your waist. You’re questioning your choices when the pager goes off again. “Ok, never mind”

“Sorry, love” you kiss her before standing up, admiring how beautiful she looks with those kiss swollen lips.

As soon as you arrive at the hospital, you’re running around between patients and emergencies.

“Hey, pal. No lunch today?” Darcy says when you meet at the cafeteria.

“No, had to leave in a rush” you carry your tray to a nearby table, sitting with your friend.

“Did you tell Peter’s girlfriend?” she asks.

“At the funeral, yeah. Figured it might be better if she had her friends and sister around for support” you sigh, still shaken about what happened earlier in the week.

It was the worst feeling, being in the ER and seeing an ambulance arrive, thinking Quill might come down and tell you a joke or ask about your day, only to remember he was gone.

“Thank you for calling Wanda, by the way”

“Carol did” Darcy says and you choke on your soda, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, they were both playing nice”

“Right, well, I’ll thank her later”

“We want cookies, and by we, I mean me” she demands.

“I’ll see what I can do” you say, eating your burger with a smile. The minute Wanda knows Darcy loves her baked goods she’ll never stop sending her some, that’s how amazing she is.

After eating, Darcy and you find an on-call room to chill, each one in a bed.

Wanda: I’m at the mall.

Y/N: What are you getting, baby?

Wanda: Stuff

Wanda: Which one is better? Red or white?

You frown, not knowing if she’s refering to something in particular. And then she sends two pictures of lingerie sets, making you drop your phone in your face.

“Ew, are you sexting?” Darcy says, laughing as you rub the spot where your phone hit you.

“No. Gotta prep for surgery” you say, leaving in a hurry.

“Freak!” she shouts as you close the door.

Y/N: Both are… wow.

Y/N: But red. Definitely red.

You’re eager to get a reply, but you have a surgery to do.

While in the OR, you briefly forget about your conversation, teaching Kate how to do the procedure.

“Whose phone is ringing?” you say, after several notifications.

“That’s yours, Doc”

“Oh, sorry everyone” you laugh. “Kate, can you check what it is?”

The woman nods, reading from the previews in the lock screen.

“It says “Just got it”, a couple of pictures, and can’t wait for you to…”

“Aaah, that’s enough. Thank you, Doctor Bishop” you say, blushing. “Come back so you can watch the next part of the procedure”

When you finally get to see the photos she sent you’re about to call a crash cart for yourself.

You keep staring at the pictures revealing just a little bit of the top of the set on Wanda’s body.

This is the best day of your life.

You’re even tempted to just meet her at the soccer game and take her back to your car.

But, when the time comes, you behave, parking around the field and waving at the boys, who are warming up.

“Hey, you made it…” Wanda greets, looking adorable with a baseball cap and her hair lose. You don’t let her finish, crashing your lips against hers, hands on her waist.

“Tease” you say with a smile and she laughs.

“Come on, let’s sit over here”

She points to a bench that is under the shade of a tree. Most of the crowd in the field are other moms, cheering for their children.

“Wow, Tommy’s really fast” you say, watching as the kid sprints to get the ball. “Come on!”

You lift Wanda in the air as he scores a goal, yelling like he just won the World Cup.

“Did you see that? He was amazing! Two kids were after him and he managed to get past their defense” you say, standing up and approaching the edge of the field. Wanda laughs at how invested you become in the game, shouting your suggestions to the kids or cheering them on when they get the ball.

Coach Hill notices the new face among the crowd, appreciating the level of committment. Unlike other parents, you seem to know a thing or two about the sport.

As the game is about to end, one kid kicks the ball a little too hard, bouncing on another boy’s head. Everyone gasps and you run to the field.

“Hey, it’s ok” you calm him down as he touches the place where the ball hit him. “What’s your name?”

“Will”

“Will, hi. I’m Y/N”

“Excuse me” a woman kneels next to you. “That’s my son”

“Can I check him? I’m a doctor” you say, trying to ease her nerves.

“Ok”

You nod, helping him up and walking to the bleachers. Kneeling to be at eye level, you check his pupils, and ask him to follow your finger.

“Will, what day is today?”

“Friday”

“Can you repeat after me? Today is a sunny day”

“Today is a sunny day” he says without difficulty.

“And what are you gonna ask your mom for dinner? Because I’m pretty sure she’ll get you anything you want right now”

“McDonald’s!”

You laugh, standing up and turning to his mother.

“He’s fine, just ice the place where he got hit. If he’s nauseous or dizzy, take him to the doctor as soon as possible”

“Thank you so much…”

“Y/N” you offer your hand, and she takes it, making the contact last a little longer.

“Y/N. Could I have your phone number? Just in case I have questions” she says, hand going to squeeze your forearm.

“Sharon, I’m so happy Will is ok” Wanda comes to the rescue, her hand around your arm. “Lucky for you my girlfriend was here”

You smile at the word girlfriend, feeling like a teenager.

“Oh, you two?” Sharon says, gaping. Wanda smiles, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Right! I should take Will home, he needs to rest”

“Ok, you do that. Feel better, sweetheart” Wanda waves at the boy, and then turns to you. “I hate Sharon”

“Don’t be jealous”

“I’m not!” she says too quickly for your liking. You smile and she rolls her eyes. “I have to find the boys, don’t get into more trouble”

“I won’t” you promise, smiling because Wanda is in fact, very jealous. You’re watching her walk away -and admiring how good she looks in a pair of jeans- when someone speaks behind you.

“Very impressive. I’m Coach Hill” the woman introduces herself and you give her your name. “Nice to see some new faces here. Especially people who know the game”

“Oh, I just watch the Women’s World Cup, that’s all”

“It’s better than the men’s” Maria says and you laugh, agreeing. “Would you be interested in helping out? Most parents just want to bring food to fundraising events, but it would be nice to have an assistant coach who also knows first aid”

You blink a few times, watching as Wanda approaches, walking behind Maria.

“Oh, well…”

“We could talk it over dinner”

Too late. Wanda tilts her head in that way that makes her look so dangerous (and hot)

“Y/N works so many hours, I’m not sure she has the bandwith. I can barely get her to myself most days, right baby?” she kisses your cheek, making you blush.

“Yeah, long hours at the hospital”

“My offer stands” the coach says, not backing out from a challenge. You wait until she’s away to turn to Wanda.

“Babe, I didn’t do anything! I promise I was just standing here…”

“There’s something you should know about me” Wanda interrupts, whispering hotly against your ear. “I don’t like to share”

“I…” you stutter when she looks into your eyes. Wanda holds your chin with her thumb and index finger.

“Is that understood?”

“Y-yes”

“Good girl” she smiles, kissing you, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

You have a dumb expression as she walks to her car.

“See you at home” she says, making sure everyone in the parking lot hears her.

You blush as Sharon eyes you with a smirk, and you sprint to your car before anyone else gets any crazy ideas. 

When you get home, Wanda is helping the kids set up their overnight bags while they shower.

“Can you drive them to their friend’s house? I have to do a couple of things here. You can take my car”

“Sure. I’ll shower and come back”

To your surprise, they’re both excited about the sleepover. You vividly remember hating those and your mom had to pick you up in the middle of the night more than once.

“Be good, ok? I’ll come get you tomorrow” Wanda asks. You check your phone for the address, noticing it’s a short distance.

“Are you and mom having a sleepover too?” Billy says and you smile.

“Yeah, we’ll probably watch movies and eat lots of candy” you joke, trying not to think about Wanda in lingerie. Not while you’re driving her children and your brain can malfunction in the middle of the road.

“I hope she doesn’t get sad because we’re gone” Tommy says as you wait for their friend to open up the door.

“I’ll take care of her for you. You just worry about having fun”

“Ok” they both nod, and you raise your hands for a high five.

On the way back, you get the wine and some tiramisu from a nice bakery downtown, thinking Wanda might appreciate the time alone to finish her errands.

After stopping at the gas station to fill up her tank, you head back, parking in her driveway and taking the stuff you bought inside.

“I’m back” you say, but are met with silence as you close the door. “Wanda?”

Slightly worried, you go up the stairs, making sure she knows you’re coming.

“Go ahead” she says as you knock on her door.

“Hey, you ok?” you say, stopping as soon as you take in the view before you.

Wanda, sitting at the edge of her bed, wearing the lingerie set she showed you before. The bed has rose petals scattered, and there are some candles lighting up the room.

“Is this too much? I just wanted it to be special” she says, standing up. You take a step forward, and the only thing you can do is kneel, admiring every inch of skin on display.

Wanda gasps, anticipation building up as she watches you run your hands up and down her thighs.

“I knew I was gonna have the best meal of my life tonight” you say, kissing her legs. She holds your shoulders as her knees shake, squeezing harder when your nose nudges her center, eager to taste her.

“Bed” is her only command and you nod, lifting her up in your arms and carrying her the short distance. You try to set her down gently, but she pulls you roughly as soon as her back hits the mattress.

When Wanda moves further down, she groans.

“Ouch, ouch, my ass”

“Your ass is great, baby”

“No” she protests, and you don’t know if she’s laughing or crying. “I have a thorn in my butt. I guess I didn’t remove all of them from the roses”

“Turn around” you ask, inspecting every inch of her delicious behind. “Ah, here it is. This will hurt a bit”

“Son of a bitch” Wanda says as you pull it out. You hold back a laugh, but can’t help yourself when she screams into a pillow. Annoyed at your mood, she throws it blindly behind her, completely missing.

“Babe, it’s ok. Just lay on your stomach for a bit and the pain will pass soon”

“I wanted this to be romantic. There’s nothing romantic about a thorny butt”

“Well, I don’t mind the view” you admit, enjoying how the position is accentuating the curve of her lower back, and the skimpy underwear allows you to admire her ass.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better” she mumbles against the duvet.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you ask, hovering over her, kissing behind her ear, down her neck and the space between her shoulders.

“I suppose not” she admits, holding back a moan.

“Let me take care of you, baby” you say, kissing and licking your way down her body. As you go further down, you kiss the inside of her thighs, around her center and anywhere but the place she needs the most.

Wanda enjoys a little too much the anticipation, her position keeping her from watching your next move. She grabs another pillow, hoping to squeeze it hard enough to keep her from screaming.

“Don’t hold back” you tsk, pushing her underwear aside and moaning at the view in front of you. She’s so wet and ready and how you wished you had some of the toys you enjoy using so much, just to stretch her. But for now, all you need is to taste her, so you dart your tongue out, small licks flicking the bundle of nerves until Wanda whimpers, moving her hips against your face, begging for more.

You hold her hips in place, and give in to her silent request, going deeper and licking up and down, enjoying how erratic her movements get when she’s close to the edge.

“Don’t stop” she pleads when you crawl back up, kissing her back, leaving some of her juices glistening on her beautiful skin.

“Baby, I want to ask you something” you whisper in her ear. “Do you ever touch yourself?”

“I…” she tries to create some friction with her legs.

“Answer me”

“Yes”

“Do you use any toys?” you ask, one of your hands traveling to her center, rubbing gently.

“Yes” she says, this time a little out of breath.

“Want to use one right now?”

“I just want you” she pleads, burying her face between her arms, flushed and taken aback by her own desire.

“You’re doing so good for me. If it’s too much just tell me, promise?”

“Mhm” she nods, her breathing getting faster as she feels your hands pulling down her underwear, the cold air hitting her pussy.

“God, you’re so hot” you say, your thumb going down to gently tease her clit, suspecting Wanda was too sensitive.

After a few minutes of massaging her clit, she begins to sigh and moan, moving her hips. It doesn’t take long for her to ask exactly what she wants.

“More, please”

“Is this ok?” you say, teasing her entrance with one of your fingers. Wanda doesn’t answer, moaning and panting instead. “Lift your legs a little bit for me, can you do that?”

Wanda nods, spreading her legs and leaning on her knees so her ass is slightly elevated. You lay on your back, allowing her to straddle your face and leaving enough room to finger her.

“You taste amazing” you say, pulling her down so she’s almost sitting on your face. You hear Wanda moan, but you’re too focused on the slick that’s dripping down her cunt and all over your chin.

When you feel like she’s ready, you begin to massage her clit, while two of your fingers are swallowed by her pussy. She’s tight, but seems to enjoy it, moaning loudly when you move inside of her.

“Yes, fuck, please keep going” Wanda says, moving her hips faster.

“Look at you, so full and ready. Can’t wait to fuck you with my dick” you say, getting wet at the idea.

“I’m so close” she mumbles, and you feel her pussy clenching around your fingers, making it hard for you to move.

Wanda switches positions when she moves, making you go deeper and you know you’re hitting the right spot when she cries, holding on to the duvet and crying out as she comes around your fingers and your mouth.

You keep her in place, enjoying the feeling of her cunt pulsing around your fingers. Waiting until she relaxes, you pull out, smiling as she complains.

You climb back up, laying next to her. Wanda’s eyes are closed, her breathing erratic as she comes down from her high. Once she opens her eyes, you smile.

“Hey, gorgeous”

“That was…”

“Mhm” you nod, kissing her so she can taste herself. “Told you, just let me take care of you”

“Give me a second and I can… we can do it again. You haven’t come…”

“I’m fine” you shake your head. “That was extremely hot and your pleasure is mine. Just take your time”

“I love you” she says, kissing you once again, her mind still foggy from the orgasm.

“I love you too” you smile against her lips, eager to worship every inch of her body and show her how much more she can feel.

—

Light seeps through curtains and you open your eyes, looking around. Wanda’s scent is in the sheets, the pillows and the air around you.

Sadly, she’s missing from the bed and you stretch, ready to look for her and talk her into coming back.

Your button up shirt is nowhere to be found, so you take the tank top that was discared the night before and go down the stairs.

The sight that greets you is heavenly.

Wanda is humming along a Sinatra song, pouring some pancake mix in a pan. What makes it so special is how she’s wearing your shirt, that is obviously too big on her.

You’re not sure if she’s wearing panties underneath that, but you’re eager to find out.

“You scared me” she laughs when she feels you against her back.

“And you weren’t in bed when I woke up” you say, kissing her neck.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast”

“I am hungry” you mutter against her skin, moving her hair aside to get better access.

“Oh” she says, leaning against you. You make her walk back all the way to the kitchen counter, switching your bodies so she’s in front of you.

As you kiss her lips, your hand goes down her body, checking that she is in fact wearing underwear.

“Mmm, you’re overdressed” you say, pulling them down.

“What are you doing?” Wanda stutters, feeling your fingers teasing softly against her entrance.

“Want me to stop?”

“No. I just don’t want the pancakes to burn” she moans and stutters as you gather some of her slick in your digits.

“I better hurry, then” you say, kneeling before her.

Not wasting any time, you start eating her out like it’s your last meal, tongue flattening against her pussy. Wanda pulls your hair, riding your face and reaching back to hold herself steady against the counter.

“You’re just so fucking delicious” you say, desperate to feel more, placing one of her legs over your shoulder to get better access.  As you dive in again, Wanda holds on to your shoulders and pulls your hair, too lost in her pleasure. Your tongue moves in circles around her clit, and you let her ride your face as her orgasm approaches, until Wanda is moaning and panting, finishing with a whine.

“So good for me” you say, standing up and holding her in your arms as she leans against you, her legs unsteady after coming so hard. “All good, baby?”

“More than good” she says, her head lifting to look into your eyes, and you share a lazy kiss, Wanda moaning as she tastes herself. “I love you”

“Love you too” you say, kissing her nose.

“Still hungry?”

“I could definitely have some of those delicious pancakes”

“Coming right up” she says, walking back to the stove. You look at the sway of her hips and spank her, unable to help yourself.

“Amazing” you sigh after the first bite.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah, I can sleep anywhere and nothing will wake me up, except the sound of my pager. It’s like a Pavlovian response”

“Glad to hear that” she smiles, and you decide to tease her a little bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing because you snore”

“I do not”

“Babe, you do” you laugh, and Wanda glares at you. “It’s ok, I think it’s adorable”

She rolls her eyes, and changes the subject. After breakfast, you both go to pick up the twins, and they’re telling you everything they did.

“I hope you didn’t stay up too late” Wanda says.

“We didn’t. But Adam was so loud, he snores. Like you do, Mama” Billy says and you have to hold back your laughter.

“See? I told you you snore” you say when she pinches your arm.

“How do you know my mom snores?” Tommy says, and you blush, the smug gring leaving your face.

“Yeah, Y/N, how do you know?” Wanda says, giggling when you look back at the twins, eager to change the subject.

“We should go to the movies today!”

“Yeah” they agree.

“Well played” Wanda nods, finally getting back home. “Hey, get your bags” she says as the kids try to sneak back home. “That’s more like it”

Billy plops dow on the couch while Tommy greets every piece of furniture. Wanda leans against the doorframe, enjoying the bit and you join her, kissing her temple.

“It’s nice to be home” he says, laying next to his brother.

“Yeah. It is” you agree, looking at Wanda with complete adoration.

You’re both home.

[itadorey]

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader summary: it's hard to hide your relationship when your boyfriend has a staring problem. genre: fluff, humor (?), secret relationship notes: inspired by a real incident (aware). not revised, sorry for any mistakes </3 wc: ~2.4k

he’s staring.

you're sitting on the couch, curled up in the corner and chatting with shoko about your hellish weeks, and he's just staring.

you keep your gaze on shoko, refusing to look at gojo as he stands in the doorway and all but ignores geto's greeting. it's a little embarrassing, really, and you can't help but spare a glance in his direction in order to give him a sharp glare. the corners of his lips tug up at your action, and he reluctantly tears his eyes away from you and greets geto with an enthusiastic hug.

"i brought cookie dough!" gojo announces proudly, puffing his chest out as the rest of you groan. he all but wilts at the sound you all make, and you can see his lips forming a pout as he gives you all an expectant look. "what's the issue?"

"last time you tried to bake cookies, you burnt them," shoko says dryly, letting her head fall back against the couch as she complains. "for someone who claims to be good at everything you sure seem to love proving yourself wrong."

"that's because i didn't read the instructions, shoko," gojo explains patiently, face smug as he smirks. "but it'll be fine this time because you'll be the one making them."

"like hell i will," shoko snaps, eyes narrowing as she turns her head to glare at gojo.

"then i'll just try my luck again, i guess," gojo says breezily, meeting her glare evenly. the two of them stare each other down for a couple of seconds before shoko lets out a loud sigh and stands up, stalking over to gojo and snatching the container out of his hands. a snicker leaves his lips as she starts to walk towards the kitchen, and it only turns into a full blown laugh when she picks up the nearest thing (which happens to be geto's water bottle) and launches it at him.

"suguru!" shoko yells once she's in the kitchen. "get in here! you're going to help me."

"i'll be right back," geto says, smiling amicably before slipping through the doorway. you turn to finally face gojo, smiling as he bends down to pick up the fallen water bottle before placing it on the table beside him. the smile remains on your face as he approaches, and he can't help but smile in return as he casually points to the now empty space next to you.

"this seat taken?"

"yeah, by shoko," you scoff lightly, shaking your head lightly when he ignores your words and plops himself down next to you. he rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his added weight has the cushion sinking in a way that forces you to lean into him.

"oh? is that so?" gojo asks, an innocent smile on his face as he inches forward the slightest bit.

"yeah," you breathe, eyes darting towards the kitchen to make sure that geto and shoko are still occupied.

"but she's not here right now," gojo teases, chuckling when you roll your eyes.

"she'll come back eventually."

"and she can sit on my other side," gojo states confidently, leaning in even further with a cocky little grin on his face. "besides, we both know she likes curling up and resting her head on the arm rest."

"but she always insists on sitting next to me," you argue, giving in and leaning in as well.

"then you can sit in the middle," gojo whispers, his lips brushing against yours the slightest bit. "that way it's a win-win for everyone involved."

"what about suguru? where will he sit?"

"who cares?" gojo murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in fully to kiss you.

"the cookies will be ready in fifteen minutes!"

the two of you spring apart, almost leaping to opposite ends of the couch as shoko peeks her head into the living room. there's a moment of silence as she glances between the two of you, and it isn't until she turns to look back at who you assume is geto that you share a mildly panicked look with gojo.

"do we wanna wait or should we just start the movie?" shoko asks, drawing your attention back to her.

"let's just start the movie," you say, willing yourself to sound as normal as possible. shoko nods in return, stepping back into the living room with geto trailing behind her. she makes her way to the couch as geto approaches the tv, gingerly plucking the remote from behind it before settling down on the ground. shoko comes to a stop in front of gojo, motioning for him to move from his spot so she can sit.

you shuffle awkwardly across the couch as gojo makes his way to the other end of the couch, sinking into the middle seat as shoko curls up on the edge and rests her head on the arm rest. you turn to look at gojo when he plops down next to you, only to be met with a smug expression that screams 'i told you so'. the tv comes to life as geto nestles himself into the spot between you and shoko, his broad back pressed firmly up against the couch and preventing you from moving to the left in fear of accidentally kicking him.

"so what are we thinking?" geto asks, tilting his head back to look at the three of you. "comedy? action? romance?"

"horror," you reply flatly, choosing to ignore the look geto had sent your way when he had suggested romance. you smirk when you notice his expression fall, and he merely grumbles something under his breath before shifting his attention back to the tv.

"any objections?" geto asks, sparing a glance at shoko and frowning when she shakes her head. "any at all?"

"just choose a movie," shoko sighs, lightly kicking the back of geto's head. it's silent as geto finally settles on a movie that you know you've all seen before, and you decide to let it slide this time because you know that dealing with a scared geto is worse than sitting through a rewatch.

you reach across gojo to turn off the floor lamp, effectively plunging the living room into near-darkness. the glow from the television is bright enough to highlight geto's uncertain expression, and you resist the urge to snicker as you lean forward to tug at his hair. he looks up at you in annoyance, rolling his eyes when you speak. "if you get too scared, you can just sit on gojo's lap, okay?"

a low snort leaves shoko's words at your comment, and geto shushes her as the movie begins to play. you quickly find yourself engrossed in the film, and you let yourself melt into the couch as the first scene plays. you make sure to stay aware of geto's reactions when you realize the first jump scare is coming up, and you're rewarded with a sharp jolt as geto does his best to hold in his gasp.

a swat to the calf is all you receive when he hears your quiet laugh, and you throw a glance at shoko in hopes of sharing an amused glance, only to stop when you notice her already looking at you. or rather, looking past you and directly at gojo.

you feel yourself stiffen as you force yourself to look back at the film, waiting for shoko so turn her attention back to the tv before glancing at gojo through your periphery. a soft sigh leaves your lips when you see him staring at you, and you waste no time before elbowing his side and subtly tilting your head towards the tv. you don't wait to see his reaction, but you do feel him shift in his seat, stretching his arm across the back of the couch before running his fingers over your shoulder lightly.

you shiver lightly at the contact, and you don't even have to spare gojo another glance to know he's back to staring at you. the next few minutes consist of the same few actions: gojo shamelessly stares at you, shoko shoots him suspicious glances, and you do your best to ignore the two of them while you watch the movie. it isn't until a phone goes off that the strange cycle finally gets broken.

"what was that?" geto asks, eyes wide and voice low as he pauses the movie. you shake your head, trying to suppress a smile at his reaction.

"my phone," shoko says, her eyes glinting with amusement. "the cookies are ready. c'mon, suguru."

"no, i'll help!" you say, jumping to your feet. you watch as shoko watches you with narrowed eyes, and can't help but sigh in relief when she merely shrugs and starts making her way into the kitchen. you pointedly ignore gojo's stare and geto's curious look, slipping into the next room just in time to see shoko pull a tray out of the oven.

"i wanna wait for them to cool down, but i also know how impatient those two are," shoko mutters, a hand on her hip as she looks down at the tray. you hold up a finger, skirting around her and rifling through one of geto's drawers before finding a spatula.

"we can just transfer them to a plate and take them back with us. besides, gojo likes them warm," you suggest, earning a nod from shoko. you trade places with her while she pulls out a plate, and you begin scooping the freshly baked cookies onto it as she leans on the counter next to you.

"so, gojo," shoko says offhandedly. "y'know, he's been staring all night."

"oh? has he?" you ask, mentally patting yourself on the back when your voice remains steady.

"yeah," she continues, watching as you place the last of the cookies on the plate before grabbing it. "just pay attention and you'll notice. it's kind of scary, if i'm being honest. if he kept looking at me with those eyes of his, i'd put in a complaint with yaga."

you can't help but giggle at her words, and you quickly wash the spatula and dry it before placing it back into the drawer. "i'll keep your words in mind."

shoko gives you a lazy smile before plucking the tray of cookies off the counter, already making her way back into the living room. "make sure to keep an eye out!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumble under your breath, following after her and taking your seat once again. you flinch when she plops the plate into your lap, but you're given no time to say anything before geto and gojo are digging into the cookies.

"they're still warm!" gojo exclaims, earning a soft smile from you. shoko watches you closely, making sure to give you a knowing look when you finally glance her way. she remains silent when geto starts playing the movie once again, only reaching for a cookie herself and curling back up on the couch cushion.

five minutes after resuming the movie, you feel gojo's knee bump against yours as he shifts in his spot, sinking lower in his seat and spreading his legs apart before leaning against the armrest on his side. you can feel shoko's prickly stare as you keep your own gaze focused on the tv, and you simply tuck your legs under you and refuse to acknowledge either one of them. it isn't long until you can feel gojo staring at you too, and you feel your face grow warmer due to all the attention.

by the time the movie ends, geto is the only one who can say he actually watched the film, and he wastes no time before leaping to his feet and letting out a groan as he stretches.

"well, i need a drink if we're going to continue with the horror movies," geto announces, turning the floor lamp back on. he leans over to snag the last cookie, breaking it in two before offering half to gojo.

"me too," shoko agrees, suppressing a yawn as she joins geto's side. "i could go for a drink."

"me three," you chime in, making a move to stand up only to be stopped by shoko.

"nah, stay here," she says smugly, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "i'll get it for you."

"um, okay?" you respond hesitantly, watching as geto follows shoko into the kitchen. "thank you!"

"well, well, well," gojo says quietly, leaning in and drawing your attention back to him. "it seems like we're all alone."

"you're so stupid," you snort, gently pushing him away from you. he pouts at your action and you find yourself shaking your head fondly at his expression. "shoko's been noticing all the staring you've been doing."

"well can you blame me?" he asks, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. he lets his lips skim against your knuckles, and you roll your eyes when he finally presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. "how can i not stare when i have the most beautiful art i've ever seen sitting right next to me?"

"you're so cheesy!" you hiss, ignoring the way your stomach lurches when he gently intertwines his fingers with yours.

"yeah but you love it," gojo responds haughtily.

"yeah, i do," you say softly. gojo's eyes soften at your words, and he leans forward slightly before pausing, hesitation clear on his face. you let go of his hand to cup his cheek, pulling him even closer as you run your thumb along his cheekbone. "c'mere."

gojo's lips meet yours eagerly, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear him hum happily. you scoot yourself closer to him, half on his lap as he tilts his head to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, giggling when his hands settle on your waist and pull you onto his lap entirely.

"i told you they were making out!"

the two of you pull away from each other when you hear shoko's voice, and you turn to give her a mildly annoyed look as she gives you a smug one in return. geto stands right behind her, lips pursed as he does his best to hold back a smile.

"yeah, we were," gojo mutters bitterly, giving shoko a dark look. "before you so rudely interrupted."

shoko only laughs at his words, and you don't have the chance to explain anything before gojo is pulling you into another kiss.

"you owe me five bucks, suguru!"

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

[hyuniepies]

Sweetener - L. Felix

˙ . ꒷ 🧸 . 𖦹˙—

pairing : felix x fem!reader

summary : you were more than excited to hang out with your friend felix however you soon found out how bad he was at hiding his intentions.

contains : sub!felix, soft dom!reader, unprotected sex, nipple play, loss of virginity, creampie

words : 2.1k

You and Felix had grown to become good friends and you absolutely loved being around him. He was your new coworker at the café you waited tables at and his sweet face and warm presence made the exhausting job a lot more bearable. 

Despite his shy nature, he opened up to you, and you found it so adorable the way he would look away every time you caught him staring at you and how he would stutter whenever you got a bit too close to him. You adored every single one of his little habits, his beautiful freckles and his ability to bring sunshine everywhere he went.

The two of you had quite a lot of fun hanging out together, even if it was to do something as simple as playing video games or baking brownies together. Today was just another day he had invited you over to watch a movie at his place.

You arrive at his apartment and ring the doorbell. Before you know it the door swings open revealing Felix greeting you with a lovely smile painting his face, clearly showing how excited he was to see you.

“Hey. Did I make you wait long?” You ask him, feeling slightly guilty after realizing you were thirty minutes late to your movie night.

“Oh no. I just got done making cookies. Come on in.”  He answers in a soft voice and moves aside, allowing you to enter his home. 

As soon as you step into his kitchen, the rich smell of freshly baked butter cookies mixed with the familiar sweet scent of Felix's apartment fills your nostrils. He quickly grabs the bowl of cookies from the kitchen counter and leads you towards his bedroom while you follow close behind.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He tells you as he makes his way to his bed and plops down onto the soft mattress, his back leaning against the headboard. You come up and sit down with your legs crossed just beside him, your eyes involuntarily shifting from his face to the sweet treats.

“You can try them.” He offers with his shy tone as he pushes the bowl in front of you.

You reach out your hand and grab one of the heart shaped cookies and take a bite out of it, the sugary taste instantly seeping into your taste buds.

“Felix, this is so good. Did your baking get even better or something?”

He breaks into his usual smile, flustered by your compliment. “I'm glad you liked them.”

“Here, you try.” You hold up the bitten cookie in front of his face, offering it to him.

“Oh no, it's fine. I made these just for you.” He refuses and reaches for the tv remote to play the movie you two were supposed to watch tonight.

“Yeah but, you deserve to enjoy your own baking sometimes.” You say as you bring the treat closer to his mouth, the edge of the cookie almost touching his lips.

Felix realizes he has no choice but to give in so he opens his mouth and takes a bite, his eyes looking down and cheeks blushed red as you feed him.

“It's good.” His voice comes out muffled and his cheek swells as he chews. He immediately covers his mouth with his hand and you think it's the most adorable thing in the world.

“You're so cute.” You let out a giggle and use your free hand to gently ruffle his soft blonde hair as he leans into your comforting touch.

You slowly pull your hand back and turn to face the tv while he presses play on the remote and the movie finally starts.

A few minutes pass and you find yourself completely absorbed into the film, your eyes focused on the screen. However, from the corner of your eye you notice Felix was not interested in the movie. You feel his gaze was instead fixed on you, his eyes carefully tracing the features on your face.

You glance at him only for a second and he instantly looks away, his eyes moving to the tv. He did this a lot when you two were together, but you never thought anything of it. Maybe he was just too shy to say something, so you shift your attention back to the screen.

A couple moments later you feel the same gaze laying on you again, but this time his eyes travel further down, stopping at your chest. You were not wearing a bra and it was quite chilly in his room so you knew exactly what he was staring at.

You decide to finally confront him, “Hey Felix, can I ask you something?” 

He looks up at you pretending as if he didn't know what you just caught him doing. “Yeah sure.” 

“Have you ever had sex?” Your question almost causes him to choke on his breath in shock.

“Um…no.” He answers with hesitation, taken aback by the unexpected question.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

He pauses for a while before replying in a quieter voice, “No.” and you can't help but laugh a little.

You tilt your head, a smirk finding its way to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

The same red flush paints his freckled cheeks and he almost mindlessly nods his head as if he's wanted to do this forever.

“I need to hear you say it baby.” Your tone softens. 

“Yes.” his lips part slightly before he speaks and that's all it takes for you.

You shift your weight closer to Felix on the bed till his face is just a few inches away from yours. His breath hitches and you can tell he's nervous. “It's okay, just relax.” 

You close your eyes and bring your lips towards his, moulding them together. You kiss him slowly and carefully and his breathing steadies as he becomes familiar with the way his lips fit against your own. 

You bring your hands up to grab the sides of his face in an attempt to deepen the kiss and can't help but smile into it feeling his lips trying hard to keep up with yours. You push your tongue inside his hot mouth, and it coats with his sweet taste and spit as the kiss gets sloppier.

He abruptly pulls away from the kiss, his eyes still closed as he catches his breath. So you take the opportunity to climb into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, caging him beneath you as his back hits the headboard.

You can feel the faint outline of his hard cock on your pussy through the layers of fabric and the sudden contact makes Felix gasp. 

He looks up at you and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, littering his skin with small kisses. Your lips stop just to harshly suck on a certain spot on his neck, determined to leave a red mark.

“Ugh…” he whimpers, a complete mess under you.

You pull away from his neck and your fingers grip the hem of his shirt, your eyes looking into his asking for permission to take it off. He immediately lifts his arms up and you remove the piece of clothing, tossing it to the side and scanning his bare body with your eyes.

“Can I touch you?” He builds up the courage to ask.

“Of course.”

Felix slowly brings up his right hand and cups your breast, kneading the soft flesh through your dress with his dainty fingers. His middle finger lightly brushes against your hard nipple and you bite your lower lip, feeling a wet patch form on the fabric of your underwear.

“Take this off.” You whisper.

He takes his hand off your chest and his fingertips curl around the edge of your dress and he pulls it off of you, leaving you in just your panties. Felix's doe eyes widen at the sight of your naked body in front of him and you feel his dick twitch against your wet cunt.

“You're so pretty.” His eyes come up to meet yours as he praises you.

“Thank you Lix.” You say with a smile.

Before you know it, his warm mouth latches onto your right nipple, his swollen lips gently sucking on it while his eyes shut close. He swirls his wet tongue around the hardened bud, occasionally rubbing his sharp teeth on it while his fingers play with your other nipple.

“F-fuck.” Your voice comes out shaky as pleasure shoots through your veins. Your head jerks back, mouth falling open as Felix continues lapping at your tit, covering your cold skin with his warm spit.

Without thinking, you grind your hips against his clothed bulge, your aching pussy clenching around nothing in your soaking underwear. The sensation makes him roll his hips up, wanting to feel the friction again and he takes his mouth off your breast.

“I wanna be inside you.” He begs, desperate for relief as he stares into your eyes. His pathetic voice and the fucked out expression on his face makes you want to tease him a bit more.

"You're so needy." You say as you use your fingers to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants and lower it till you see the leaking tip of his cock poking through the fabric of his underwear. You quickly pull down his boxers and his dick springs out, the pink tip glistening as precum drips down his slit.

You start dragging your clothed pussy along the length of his erection in slow, swift movements, your back arching whenever his tip grazes against your throbbing clit. 

“Please…it hurts.” He whines as he holds your hips, pleading to fuck you.

“You wanna put it in?” You stop moving your hips and ask him.

“Mhm.” he cries and you finally give him exactly what he wants. You pull your soaking panties to the side and slowly sink down on his cock, your slick making it easier for him to slide his entire length into you. 

“S-shit.” You curse under your breath, your mind going hazy as he fills you up.

“Ugh…you're so warm.” Felix mutters as your gummy walls clench around the base of his dick, sucking him deeper inside you.

You start bouncing up and down his cock at a steady pace, your pussy fluttering as he slides in and out of you. The heat in your abdomen gradually increases and spreads through your entire body as you fuck yourself on his cock, sighing every time you feel his tip kiss your cervix.

“Am I making you feel good, baby?” You ask him.

“S-so good.” He murmurs squirming beneath you, his eyes half lidded from the overwhelming sensation as soft moans escape his throat. 

You quicken your pace and Felix lets out a deep groan, head falling back and fingernails digging into the skin of your hips. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and hides his face in your neck. 

Without warning, he begins thrusting his hips upwards into you, the tip of his dick repeatedly hitting a particularly soft spot in your belly.

“Ah- fuck!” You shriek as he pounds into your pussy, your mind foggy and incapable of forming any coherent thought. The knot building up in your stomach tightens and your body goes limp as the stinging pain turns into nothing but pleasure.

“I'm sorry, ah- you feel ugh- so good.” He whimpers right next to your ear as he speeds up, thrusting even faster.

“God! Lix- don't stop!” You cry out loud, eyes turning glassy and rolling to the back of your head.

“Mm… gonna cum!” Felix whines and moans into your ear uncontrollably as he chases his high, holding on to you even tighter.

His cock twitches in your dripping cunt and this makes your walls clench even tighter around him as he continues fucking you. Your eyes scrunch close and you lose your mind, feeling your anticipated orgasm approach.

“I'm gonna-” he begins to talk but fails as he cums hard inside you. You feel the thick, warm liquid fill you up, painting your walls white.

“Ah!” You moan as the sensation sends you over the edge. Your back arches as you meet your own climax, your juices dripping down his shaft mixed with his cum.

His thrusts become slower as he rides out his high, his breathing hot and heavy. The fog in your brain starts to clear up and your body relaxes in his lap, head resting on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Felix whispers in your ear as he stops moving his hips, his cock still inside you.

“Anytime baby.”

[bellesdreamyprofile]

benny & y/n : first encounter (part 1)

Your biggest wish had been to try out new things — you weren’t the most outgoing or spontaneous person in Kathy’s group of friends. You didn’t want to be the girl they created plans around. You wanted to be that somebody that Kathy, Martha and Felicia automatically included.

Martha loved to sing, so from time to time she sang at the bar - her usual group of guys cheering her on with a handful of beers surrounding them. Felicia had a weakness for inventing stories that never happened. Everyone knew she wasn’t married to a guy from Ohio, yet she insisted she was and that he was just on a never-ending work trip. That story had been told for years.

You had moved to Chicago months ago and had yet to adjust to the new lifestyle. You worked at the local library from 9 to 5 and gave English lessons to students on the weekend. From time to time, you popped at the animal shelter and helped in any way you could. You loved giving back to the community as you find that the community has given so much to you.

It was a Wednesday morning when you met Kathy at the library you worked at — her hair done up and her eyeliner as sharp as ever.

“You need help finding a specific book?”, you noticed the young woman looking around curiously. She turned around and smiled sweetly.

“No, thank you. Just looking around.”, she responded and gave you another smile. Though before her gaze wandered elsewhere, she took a look at you and then glanced at your name tag.

“You ain’t from here, ain’t you?”, you shook your head a little.

“Just moved here.”, you replied in a light tone. Kathy smiled at your words and extended her hand to you.

“I’m Kathy, pleased to meet ya.”, she introduced herself and you shook her hand, without hesitation. From that day on, she was your listening ear and you were hers.

You had never had a friend as great as her, which was why you felt the need to fit in the group Kathy was in. You loved singing, although in your own kitchen as you baked your favorite sweet — you weren’t as confident or as bold as Martha was. You loved telling stories about your mama and your childhood pet — but even those stories, as innocent and lame as they were, were told in confidence. You did admire Felicia’s ability to tell stories in front of groups of people, though.

Kathy was the one that tied Martha and Felicia to you. You didn’t have much in common, but you gave your best to accommodate their every mood. Restaurants, cafes, cinemas - they took you everywhere. Tonight’s mood was a bar you weren’t familiar with - a bar that people usually avoided, unknowingly to you.

“No way you brought muffins with ya, Y/N.”, Martha looked at you and then at the container on your lap.

You looked at Felicia who had a small smile playing on her lips. “Leave her be. Like you didn’t sing on every table the first time you were at the Lakeside Inn.”, she shook her head, glancing her way through the rearview mirror.

You felt a blush gradually warming up your cheeks. You looked outside of the window and noticed Felicia had finally parked the truck. Before you could hop out, a hand stopped you from doing so. You looked over your shoulder and noticed Kathy was the one who stopped you.

“This bar — it’s uh, something, okay?”, she said, making you reluctantly nod. “Just stay close to us and you’ll be fine.”

You didn’t know what to think at Kathy’s words of warning. One after the other walked in the bar, smiles on their faces as they greeted guys they seemingly knew one or two things about. You followed suit and each time you looked up, you noticed gazes of men you had never seen before. They were nothing like the boys that borrowed a book or two at the library.

They wore denim jackets and smelled like oil, drinking whiskey and abusing on beer. You wondered if they ever stepped foot in a library before.

Darkness engulfed you the moment you stepped in the bar, suddenly realizing the lights were dimmed low — also the contrast with the smoke didn’t help your vision any better. The girls found their usual table by the end of the room and sat down. You moved on the very end of the table and set the muffin container on top of the table.

“You gonna sing something for us tonight, baby?”, a voice called from your left. You looked over and noticed a man with a denim jacket by the pool table, more likely addressing Martha as a giggle escaped her lips.

“It ain’t the day today.”, Martha responded and pulled out her cigarettes from her purse. “I’ll be spending the evening with the girls.”

The guy huffed and turned to his friend with a laugh. “Them girls can sing too.”, he winked at us, making you sigh and look away. You made eye contact with Kathy who gave you a tight lipped smile.

Felicia let out a small gasp and leaned over the table. “Okay, don’t turn around, but oh my god look at Benny tonight.”, Kathy sneakily looked to your left and cleared her throat.

“Yeah, goddamn.”, she whistled, making you chuckle.

“Kathy!”, you smiled at her. “He ain’t no animal.”

Felicia winked at you and raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way. “He’ll be my animal by the end of the night.”, Kathy laughed and slapped her arm. You let out a breathy laugh and finally gathered some courage to look to your left.

Goddamn indeed.

Broad shoulders and defined biceps, complimented by tattoos here and there. Soft, blonde curls made his blue eyes pop under the dimmer casted on the pool table. A cigarette hung from his lips as his hands were busy with the cue stick.

You were speechless. And absolutely mesmerized.

As the mysterious, handsome stranger bent down to aim, his gaze shifted from the balls to the most unexpected person in the room. You.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden eye contact. Blue. Blue. Blue.

Your eyes hastily moved elsewhere — anywhere. The girls, the jukebox, the bar and your ridiculous container. You turned to Kathy, who seemed to take notice of your wild eyes.

“You okay, Y/N?”, she asked, though her eyes moved from you to glance over your shoulder. “Oh, lord.”

Felicia let out a low gasp and started tapping Martha’s shoulder repeatedly. “Woman, go find yourself another man to ogle.”, she rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m gonna find myself a man I actually stand a chance with.” 

Your eyes moved on Felicia, whose lips pursed at her friend’s words, but within seconds she straightened up.

“Ladies.”, a voice greeted, the honey-like tone sent shivers down your spine. The sound of a screeching chair made you flinch in place. You slowly looked up and there they were again. The bluest eyes in Chicago, you thought.

“Hi.”, he murmured once he was sat down, his chin on top of his crossed arms.

Felicia blinked and let out a breathy laugh. “Hi, Benny.”

Benny.

But his eyes didn’t move on her at the sound of his name. Kathy gave him a nod and an unenthusiastic hi.

Benny’s eyes stayed on the young girl he had never met before. He was almost amused on the way you seemed to tremble in his presence. Shaky hands in your lap and your chest moving quicker after each breath.

“Kathy.”, he said, his eyes finally shifting on the other woman. “Won’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words.

Kathy sighed and briefly glanced at Felicia, who hastily pulled out a cigarette. “Benny this is Y/N, and Y/N this is Benny.”

That was the moment where you finally looked up, only to find his burning eyes waiting to meet yours.

“Hi, honey.”, he gave you a smile - yet another reason for your heart to beat even faster.

You felt a blush staining your cheeks. “Hi.”, a small smile started forming on your cheeks.

“Alright. Let’s go.”, Kathy abruptly stood up and nodded to Felicia. Though the girl’s eyes were burning holes on your skin. She absentmindedly stood up and walked away, but Kathy stayed back for a few more moments.

“One hair out of place and I’ll kill you.”, she said and both yours and Benny’s eyes moved on her, her expression stoic. Her words touched your heart in ways nobody could, simply proving once more how good of a friend she was.

“Yes ma’am.”, he nodded and within seconds his attention was back on you. 

Kathy looked at you for a brief moment and smiled. “I know you’re in good hands… Though if you need anything, we’ll be over there.”

You nodded and returned the smile. “Thanks, Kat.”

You sighed and looked back at Benny. You couldn’t help but smile, which was later on followed by a breathy laugh.

“What’s got you giggling, honey?”, he asked, a playful smile on his lips.

“You.”, you answered with no hesitation. He raised his eyebrows and looked down, releasing a soft laugh.

“I’m flattered.”, he said and noticed the container on the table. “You made ´em?”, you looked at the container and nodded.

“Chocolate muffins.”

His eyes stared in yours for what seemed like an eternity. You used up those seconds to look at him too, once again completely mesmerized by the boyish smile he sported, despite the rugged-like exterior.

Oh, you were smitten.

“May I?”

MASTERLIST PART 2

[xrstuve]

SWEET TREATS | abby anderson x fem! reader !

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

🪷 | little drabble of abby!! pure pure fluff <33 click here for pt2!!

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

“abby, stop!!” you laugh, peeling her arms off you, trying to get back to baking the cake. you look at her, eyebrows furrowed but a small smile still present on your face. “stop eating my icing!! i won’t have enough for our cake!”

abby just chuckles and shakes her head as she looks back at you, a coy smile on her face, raising a brow at you. “as if i’m the only one who’s enjoying it!” she gets closer to you, one arm wrapping around your waist in attempt of pulling you closer to her, as the other one cups your chin, raising your face up at her. your eyes widen as you look at her, feeling your face heat up at the sudden action.

“look at you” she whispers as she gazes at your face, some icing still placed on your cheek. abby smirks as she raises her thumb up to your face, rubbing off the excess icing as she lets go off you and brings her thumb to her mouth, licking the leftover icing as she sends you a sly smirk.

your cheeks flush at her act as you tear your gaze away from her, trying to continue baking your cake but it seemed almost impossible with her in the same room. she always found a way to distract you from whatever you were doing, wanting nothing but your full blown attention. you let out a small huff, not sparing a glance at her as you continue mixing the batter.

“who’s the cook here, hmm? only i can try it until it’s finished. then maybe i’ll be ever so kind to let you try it.” abby chuckles as she gets closer to you, wrapping her buff arms around your waist from behind while she places her head on the crook of your neck. “what the wife says goes.” she says, placing small kisses on the side of your neck all the way up to your ear, making your eyes flutter shut, humming in satisfaction. you could feel her smile against your ear, her hair tickling your neck as you shiver from the closeness. “though i bet it won’t be as sweet as you.”

your eyes widen and you could feel your ears getting hot, feeling instantly embarrassed at what she just said. “abby! will you stop that!” abby just chuckles at your reaction and backs off you, leaning against the counter to get a better look at you. you stare back at her, cheeks rosy and brows furrowed, a small frown plastered on your face, though she could tell that you were keeping a smile from her.

she raises her arms up in self defense, “okay okay! i’ll stop i promise.” she chuckles, finally deciding to stop teasing you, though she couldn’t help herself at the sight of you. you send her an unconvinced look, brows raised. she shakes her head and looks down at you, grabbing your hand from the counter and raising it up to her lips, leaving a soft kiss as she pulls away, sending you a smile. “i promise.”

you shake your hand off her, not trusting a word she said, as you went back to mixing the eggs into the batter. “hmph, fine.” abby’s smile widens as she lets out a satisfied hum.

“thank you baby, you’re the best” she says, planting a kiss to your cheek as you roll your eyes, a small smile spreading on your face. “yeah yeah, now come here and help me with the icing.”

“yes ma’am” she obeys and goes around the kitchen counter, taking the small bowl that contained the pink icing into her hands. she stares at it for a bit as you look over at her questionably, wondering what she planned on doing. in less of a blink of an eye, you catch her swiping her finger across the bowl, getting a small amount of icing as she throws it at you playfully, some of it landing on your apron and on your face.

you stare at her with your mouth agape, slowly taking in the mess she just made. abby bursts into laughter as she hurriedly tries to run away from you, knowing that you were going to scold her.

“abigail anderson!! get back here!!”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

hi hi hi!! sorry for the inactivity!! i’ve been so so busy with exams lately that i’ve barely had any time to write 😭 so sorry that this drabble’s so short!! once i finally finish with school stuff, i’ll be writing way more :)) happy late valentine’s day!! 💗 hope y’all have a wonderful week <3

[pricegouge]

On Merit

exhusband!price x f!reader

cw: house fire and the aftermath of it. reader and john have kids. reader is implied to be an atheist. unedited because i don't want to look it over again. idk what this is and it's not going anywhere i just needed some comfort.

"i just thank god that the kids are okay."

an in-law of some fashion. a pesky one, perhaps an aunt. usually, you can remember her name by some clever rhyme you'd made up the day you'd gotten married, but today both the name and the rhyme escape you. 

"yeah, me too," you mutter. it's not that you don't mean it, but you've repeated the line so many times today it feels hollow and you can't muster the energy necessary to sell it, especially when the mention of your kids has your head on a swivel, making sure they're still corralled off by the picnic table. they are, of course - haven't moved since you'd last sought them out in a panic all of thirty seconds ago. your mother hovers over them, her hands stroking their hair, just as insistent and scared as your own which hang uselessly at your sides. you want to go to them, but the team of volunteer construction workers who have manifested from the aether need guidance on which parts of the house may contain salvageable heirlooms or sentimental storage. they've been dipping in and out of the wreckage all morning, confused worker bees pulling honey from the hive. a small collection of brightly colored totes decorates your lawn, fluorescent greens and reds standing out amongst the charred grass where more community and family members pick them apart, show you waterlogged decorations from a new years party four years ago and pester you to see if you want to bother keeping them. if you say no, they toss the waste into a large construction bag. mildly, it bothers you that they don't just throw them back in the house. clean up has to start somewhere, you suppose.

they found the majority of your pictures, waterlogged but whole. a gaggle of elderly women sit at picnic tables which weren't on your lawn this morning, pressing each photo between layers of shop rags. you want to bake them a cake, wonder if they'll accept a delivery pizza. wonder if you're lucky enough that your wallet is still in your car.

"only home twenty minutes… when i think what could have happened…" you close your eyes against the visions it invokes, tears collecting in your lashes. auntie balks when she notices, as if surprised her words could affect you. she pats your arm awkwardly. "well, everything happens for a reason. it's lucky you got home when you did."

it's the same line you've heard all morning, the same one you yourself had spouted to your mother much earlier when you'd admitted your kids had been home alone most the night. there was nothing wrong with that, your oldest - fifteen - plenty capable of making sure her younger sister ate and got to bed on time. which she'd done, both girls sleeping like logs when you'd gotten home. you don't want to think about what could have happened if you'd been any later, if one more patient had taken a turn, and all the words of comfort have been the same - thank god that wasn't the case. they mean well but the truth is you don't really believe in that kind of stuff so it's hard to get past the what ifs. you let it wash over you, like the runoff still flowing down the backslope of the lawn. ash and glass clouds the brook back there, a fine waiting to happen, probably. add it to the list of growing expenses your mind is too clouded to tally up right now.

smoke still wafts from the house - what remains of it. thin tendrils of ink leaking from the empty windows, their frames warped from the sagging weight of the structure and wreathed in melted plastic. john had insisted on the most expensive brand he could find, adamant that they were the most secure. but fire doesn't care much about double locks or casement, and it had rained little crystals of tempered glass down on you anyway. it crunches like gravel under aunties shoes as she drifts away from you now, neither of you able to offer the other the kind of comfort you each need. most of these people, they've shown up to make themselves feel better, to tell everyone how they'd helped the poor single mother in her time of need. but you don't act the part of the distraught, needy damsel and it's left a lot of them off-kilter, approaching you like a ticking bomb, a presumed-buried fuel source hidden under the rubble, waiting to catch heat. perhaps you are.

>>On my way.

you don't need to check your phone to verify the text because it's been burned into your retinas by now but you do anyway, just to be sure. just to do the mental math of how long ago it had been received. seven hours. wherever he'd been when he pinged your phone at two in the morning, when the firefighters had still been lingering, it must have been far. john and you may have had your differences over the years, but he had never and would never be the type to let you face a crisis alone. even now you can't help but reflect on the depth of his devotion, the implication that he'd been on a mission which he'd dropped to be with you even after learning his daughters were okay not lost on you. it's another mental image you have to fight off, the father of your children battle worn and weary when he checks his burner to find an update from kate. he hadn't bothered to relay his reply through her, had texted you directly because he still had your number memorized after all these years. it has you shaking your head, waspish when the volunteers bring you a bin of old gaming consoles, filled with water because the stupid plastic guitar controller was too tall to properly fashion the cover. you've no idea why it makes you angry, but you latch onto it with claws and teeth anyway because being mad at john is much safer than lingering on -. 

well, lingering on.

the construction crew tells you the kitchen won't collapse on you if you want to go in through the window there. you don't, but it gives you something to do, and you only realize once you're already in that it was perhaps the worst room to have chosen. 

debris carpets the floor at least two inches thick. you have a fleeting, wild notion to go swap your sneakers for boots before you remember, thoughts immediately flickering to wonder how long it will take for that instinct to die off. what strikes you first is how small the room seems with the roof sagging slightly and floor raised by detritus. soot stained and dark, it swallows the ample sunlight which streams through the empty window within inches, the further corners of the kitchen too dark to make out properly. it doesn't feel like your home, casts a certain sense of voyeurism over the growing feeling of loss. your kitchen, the life center of your home, nothing but charred ribs now.

the crew offers you a worn baseball cap and a pair of gloves when they see you flinch under the steady drip of water. you don't bat an eye as you pull them on, too focused on where you want to begin and if you'll get sepsis for your troubles.

you can't open the fridge because it's melted too much but the cabinets are all mostly functional, if unrecognizable. you don't dare open the higher ones because the way they hang off-kilter makes you nervous but the lower ones housed the bake ware anyway, the morbid curiosity to see if your pyrex finally shattered too hard to resist. 

turns out those things really can take the heat.

it's hard to stop once you've started, almost cathartic - a checklist of all the items you've forgotten you owned being crossed out as you confirm you no longer have them. it's an odd sort of soothing, a finger in a bullet hole to stem the blood loss. it will be nice not to have to wonder if anything could have been salvageable when you remember them later. 

"is my pie still in the oven?"

you don't bother turning, your eldest's blithe sense of humor about the whole affair recognizable even without looking. "you shouldn't be here," you remind her, opening up a deep drawer to find a collection of snack sized crisp bags floating in dirty water. if you weren't so agitated, it would make you laugh, the way they bob like apples, inviting you to try your luck.

"neither should you," she counters. "is my pie still in the oven? i worked so hard on it."

"what pie?" you ask, carefully closing the drawer, as if spilling more water on the floor could actually matter.

"i made a pie last night! it turned out pretty good, i think. was excited to have you try it."

you blink, finally turning to face her. "you made a pie?"

she nods, still oddly cheerful. she has been all day, a solid rock you're refusing to lean on because you want her to know she can cry, that she doesn't need to do this. "yeah, pumpkin. our fav," she reminds you.

you hide the sudden surge of tears by turning away from her and carefully opening the oven. the glass has been blown, shards thumping to the soggy floor as the door tilts. you can't help but laugh at what you find inside, the double tins still fully functional, a deep dish pie standing tall and proud in their confines. it resembles a charred souffle more than a pie when you pull it out, the top puffed up and blackened but refusing to sink into the soaked crust. a perfect slice has been cut from it already, the pie likely having been put back just to keep it warm a little longer. waiting on you. out of instinct, you check to make sure the oven had been switched off though the investigator already said everything was caused by the line outside. 

thankfully your daughter doesn't catch your doubt, too busy fawning over how perversely good her pie still looks. "i'm so proud of it," she declares, taking the dish from you.

you can't help but laugh. "you should offer it to the ladies sorting the pictures out there, in thanks."

"oh my god, you're right!" she cheers, and then nearly throws her precious pie down the bank when she turns away. "dad!" she shrieks, deciding to unload it on the window sill instead. like a dark reimagining of vintage americana.

john's by her side in a heartbeat, pulling her to him with a strong arm. in his other he still holds your youngest because that's what he's used to doing, nevermind the fact that she's twelve now. you don't think you've ever seen him so visibly shaken, mustache twitching as he holds your daughters close. he never bothered to change out of his field gear - vest stripped, but empty holsters still hanging from his stained cargos because those require a bit more care, fine motor control he probably couldn't manage. his hands are heavy on the crowns of your daughters heads, whatever words he whispers to them buried there too. you watch them with your heart in your throat, your agitation returning at the sight of him, the urge to chew your nails completely off only cowed by the appearance of soot on your gloves and the sweet smell of chemically loaded water and smoke which hangs around you like perfume. you'll have to take a bite out of him instead, an instinct that only grows when he spots you in the kitchen, anger clouding the fear in his gaze.

"sweetheart, get out of there."

you ignore him. "where were you?"

john doesn't even blink, evidently having been expecting this reaction. he should have, you remember. the same fight as always. "i was on miss -."

"i don't care." you turn back toward the room, as if to storm away, but a sink hole lays before you and despite everything, you still have enough sense about you to stay put.

it's the only opportunity he needs, john's heavy boots thudding behind you as he pulls himself up through the window. "honey, come here," he says, but he doesn't give you the chance, coming up behind you to pull you around.

you're folded in his arms before you can even pitch a fit about it, the low stream of anger you're spewing swallowed up somewhere in the stiff folds of his button up. you don't realize your breaths are coming in heaving gasps until his arms are shaking with it, his bicep swelling in your periphery just to drop suddenly out of your field of view every time you gasp for breath. john doesn't say much - or maybe he says too much, voice a steady low hum you feel in his chest more than you register in your ear. there's no helping the way you cling to him, anger dissipating as quickly as it built. john's solid and warm against you, just as soft for you as he's always been. he smells like sweat and gunpowder, the subtle scent of the expensive cigars he never finishes. it's a smell you miss always, but especially today, when the cloying scent of smoke and pfas water have felt near to suffocating you all morning.

john waits until your anger has been guttered before guiding you outside, his palm heavy on your back. he's subtle about the way he pulls another man's cap off your head, distracting you with questions about what happened, and, why is his aunt here. you pretend not to notice, stuck between an odd sense of endearment you really don't have time for and an urge to encourage him you decide to reanalyze when you're not homeless and desperate for comfort in whatever form it comes.

"the wind - last night. inspector says the tree out front must've dropped a limb on the line to the house."

"told you to let me cut it down," john mutters and you roll your eyes at him, too tired to fight now that he's calmed you down once already.

"shut up, you can blame me for this later -."

"honey, that's not -."

"look at this. you won't believe this. that line - when it split - it fucking wrapped itself around the wood stove exhaust. like, five times! look!" he's guided you back to the front of the house by now and you drag him to the freak display, the cable indeed having somehow managed to fasten itself to the exhaust while it was hissing and spitting, dangling from your home. john frowns at it, stroking his mustache in thought. "freak fucking accident," you continue, "like, what are the odds of that?"

john doesn't have an answer. "you were home?"

your breath catches when you reply, voice a low croak. john's hand is on your back in a second, soothing broad circles across your tense shoulders. "only just. the girls were asleep. i called up to them to get out of the house but i tried to put the fire out first. grabbed the hose. thank god i realized it was electrical before i ..." you babble on, for the first time able to lay your anxieties at someone else's feet. "when i went back inside, the girls were still upstairs i -." you cut yourself off, sobbing as you remember storming into your eldest's just in time to see the window shatter across her bed. you'd gotten everyone out in time but it was so close and you were so scared and it was just you and -.

"it's okay, sweetheart," john murmurs, pulling you close again. his next words are low, close to your ear. just for you "you did such a good job, mama. so proud of you."

time distorts a little after that. exhaustion creeps up on you, sinks its hooks in when you let it. john takes over, directing the crews with practiced ease and shaking hands in gratitude everywhere he goes. he even manages to keep his aunt away from you, though you spot her circling like a vulture now that she sees your walls have weakened.

you sit with the girls, looking over the salvaged goods with a sort of detached irreverence. it's strange, the anxiety of knowing you have nothing left to your name combined with the way you simply don't want to keep any of the items they bring for your inspection. the photos survived, the rest is replaceable. 

but then john himself is bringing a soggy box over, only one corner of the white cardboard singed. you leap when to your feet when you recognize the careful script of the logo on the top, a local formal shop. 

"no way," you breathe as you rip the display box from his hands, turning until you can see for yourself that the plastic casing hasn't melted, that your wedding dress is still mostly white and soot-free.

"didn't know you kept this," john mutters but you're barely listening, ripping the box open like a kid at christmas. your mom is there suddenly, helping you to keep the dress off the ground as you unfold it to check for charring, and then the gaggle of biddies are there too, laying out construction bags on the lawn for you to drape it across to keep it clean. the strangest bridal party ever assembled.

you have high hopes until you get it turned over, the train discolored and sodden from where all the water had pooled in the box. tears come unbidden to your eyes as you mourn the loss of your beautiful dress - the one memento you hadn't been able to bear parting with after the divorce. someone's hands are on you, perhaps your moms, gentle and hesitant. whoever it is they shush your tears as you sob about it not being fair, how you just want it all back.

you're not sure which you mean. 

but the hands are heavier on you now, more confident. it's not your mother's voice in your ear, quiet shushing turning to gravelly words. oh, honey, you never lost it. it's okay, we'll get it all back. 

i'll get you a new one.

divider by @/rookthornesartistry

[dreamertf]

Follow the Instructions

/hello! Hope you enjoy this one, im gonna start tagging ai as #ai tf so if you dont want to see any ai images in your tfs you can block that tag. Ill also be putting a disclaimer at the top of each post that has ai.

/contains ai images & video

/includes; muscle growth, suggestion tf, straight to gay tf

"Yeah, Im feeling fine!"

Jason was tired of how weak and scrawny his best friend Max stayed throughout their time in high school and now, college. So he had given Max a new black market roid that promised to "make him a bro." He crushed up a few of the pills without looking at the instructions and baked it into a cookie he gave Max.

Jason wasn't so bad himself, 6'4" and muscular, with a charming face. Little did he know that his height that he had since he was a sophmore in highschool would be changing.

Jason stared at Max as his skin started to ripple and shift.

"Are you sure?"

"Never better, bro."

Max ripped his shirt off as his muscles swelled. A deep canyon of rippling abs leading up to two giant slabs of muscle. He flexed and stretched as his biceps filled out.

"Sorry, im feeling a little hot." Max said non chalantly. His muscles continued to grow as he flexed them.

"Oh my god it worked"

"What worked?"

"Oh nothing, dont worry about it."

"Ok brah"

Their surrounds changed from school as it turned into a living room, a living room Jason had been in so many times before, Max's living room. All of a sudden, Jason felt a pull towards Max. He couldn't stop looking at him, like literally. He traced Max's outline as each muscle became more prominent. He stared at the giant as he grew taller and taller, but something wasn't right. It was like everything around Jason was getting taller too.

Unfortunately, Jason hadn't looked into how the roid actually worked. On the back of the small blue box, it read ;

Are you tired of being weak and nerdy? We got you covered. We believe the human mind is a powerful tool, and our Bro Pill helps you to use it to your full potential! Not only does it shift your mindset to be more focused on sports and the bros, but it also changes various other aspects of your life in order to fit your new you! We recommend taking one pill weekly until desired affects.

WARNING: taking more than one pill a week may intensify the effect you have on other people

Jason panicked as he felt himself losing muscle and height. His features softened as he turned from a rugged man into a young 20 something twink. It looks like the god of Jason's creation has type cast him as his twinky boyfriend. Making Max a jock apparently didn't override his sexuality.

"What are you doing to me?"

His voice was still deep, too deep for someone like him.

"Make that voice a little higher, and can you please quit being so worried brah? Be like me, stop thinkin as much little guy huhuhu."

A wave of relief came over Jason as he collapsed onto the couch. His body continued to shrink as he lost his height, becoming about 5'6" compared to Max's new 6'8". His musculature toned down more, not as defined anymore.

"Whatever you say babe" Jason giggled, his voice much higher and more flamboyant.

"Thats my pretty boy." Conversely, Max's voice became much deeper and demanding. Jason felt himself starting to get hornier.

"I'm so happy i couldfind you. Your ass was like made for my dick huhuhu" Max said as he spread his legs wide as his pouch grew bigger. He had one more explosive growth as his shoulder broadened and his pecs filled out more. Jason shifted in his seat as his ass grew more plump and muscular.

"What do you mean?" Jason feigned innocence, turning the ditziness all the way up.

"Come here and I'll show you, slut."

[ghouljams]

Hear me out... SCP!141 with SCP288 (the marriage rings)

:>

GOD. YEAH.

Note from O5 regarding SCP-288 tests:

In an effort to make the members of SCP-141 more docile each male will be subject to no more than an hour to observe the effects of SCP-288 on their personality. It is hoped that SCP-288's memetic effect might neutralize their more dangerous impulses. I understand that this has raised some ethical questions with our more psychologically attuned staff. To which I say: proceed with the tests.

Testing Log, SCP-288:

Subject: SCP-141-A Research Note: Seems only right to start with the ring leader. Results: SCP-141-A is exposed to SCP-141 and brought into standard human containment unit(HCU) which has been outfitted to resemble a small apartment with simple luxuries. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ offers him the ring box, he chuckles but takes it. "Sweetheart, ya shouldn't 'ave." He opens the box and inspects the rings. "matching set, cute." "If you would wear the-" Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ stops, frowns. "The men's ring?" SCP-141-A supplies. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ nods, pressing the heel of her hand to her temple as SCP-141-A removes the men's ring and slips it onto his finger. SCP-141-A spends the next several minutes observing Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ silently. He tips his head then tugs a box of cigarettes from his pocket and pulls one free with his teeth. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ takes a seat in the armchair and SCP-141-A pulls her back to standing with a hand under her elbow. "Ah, ah sweetheart, the couch." He sets her on the provided couch and searches his pockets for a lighter. "Darling-" He tips his head again, taking the cigarette from between his lips and holding it out to her. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ takes a lighter from her pocket and lights the cigarette for him. "Those things give me a headache." Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ sighs. "Man upstairs won't shell for cigars." SCP-141-A takes a seat next to Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛, resting his hand on her knee. The two sit in silence as Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ rubs her forehead with her fingers. SCP-141-A's hand creeps up her thigh in the quiet. "You know-" SCP-141-A exhales smoke, Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ winces, her hand drops to his on her thigh. "You're hurting me." "-Not right for you to watch a man and his wife." [DATA CORRUPTED]

Testing Notes:

Computers in observation room C ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ due to SCP-141-A's ⬛⬛⬛⬛, security personnel dispatched to HCU ⬛⬛ after video feed was interrupted and the cameras were ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. Security was able to intervene before SCP-141-A could [Data redacted]. Recommending Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ for immediate psychological examination.

Note from Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛:

I'm fine. Testing may resume.

-

Testing Log, SCP-288:

Subject: SCP-141-B Research Note: I thought we weren't doing any more tests on this guy? Note: Testing will continue. Results: SCP-141-B is exposed to SCP-141 and brought into standard HCU outfited to resemble a small apartment with simple luxuries. The ring box is left on the table with instructions. SCP-141-B places men's ring on his finger, and D-class personnel is let into the room. Announcement made informing SCP-141-B of "wife." SCP-141-B displays characteristics in line with typical SCP-288-2 exposure including: deference to authority, "doting" behavior, and discussions of family planning. "Wife" displays rapid behavior changes in line with SCP-288-1 exposure, making comments on the state of the house and attempting to use the kitchen to bake for SCP-141-B. Test halted after SCP-141-B's attempt to [redacted]. D-class "Wife" displays advanced cognitohazardous effects, and actively resisted staff attempts to neutralize memetic damage. Suffered severe seizures for ⬛⬛ hours before passing. Time of death ⬛⬛:⬛⬛PM. SCP-141-B unresponsive to questions, still smiling ⬛⬛⬛ hours post testing.

-

Testing Log, SCP-288:

Subject: SCP-141-C Research Note: I'm not going in there after what he did. O5 Note: Yes you are. Results: Immediately after placing SCP-288-2 on his own finger SCP-141-C goes after Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛, after several minutes of struggle Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ is wrestled to the ground and SCP-288-1 is forced onto her finger. SCP security staff prevented from intervening. SCP-141-C holds Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ against the ground with her arm twisted behind her back for several minutes, making her repeat bible verses regarding marriage and "wifely duties." He only lets her up upon completion and apologizes for punishing her. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ smiles and nods along to his apology. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ is kept on her knees beside the couch. Testing stopped when SCP-141-C removed his [redacted] from his trousers and told her to "open." Security staff were able to safely remove SCP-288-1 from Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛'s finger despite interference from SCP-141-C.

Testing Notes:

Recommending Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ for immediate psychological examination, and mental health leave. Denied

-

Testing Log, SCP-288:

Subject: SCP-141-D Research notes: audio logs and transcriptions pending review, staff may be editorializing these. O5 Notes: Someone muzzle the psych please. Results: SCP-141-D is exposed to SCP-141 and led into standard HCU furnished like small apartment with simple luxuries. His former psychiatrist Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ is handcuffed to the arm chair, she tugs at her restraints in a panic as SCP-141-D takes his seat on the couch. SCP-141-D reads instructions next to ring box and removes SCP-288-2, and places it on his finger. After a moment he steps around Dr.⬛⬛⬛⬛ in order to fiddle with the handcuffs. "Calm down sweet'eart, tryin' ta get ya outta the damn things." (Voice can be heard over receiver) Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛'s struggling only gets worse. SCP-141-D grabs her by the throat and holds her against the back of the armchair. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "Come on." SCP-141-D breaks the chain on one of her cuffs and Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ smacks him across the face. SCP-141-D's grip on her tightens and quickly loosens, anger there and gone only long enough for Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ to cower. "Not gonna hurt ya," [researches described voice as "gentling" pending review] "wouldn't hurt ya, calm down f'r me love." SCP-141-D spends the remaining hour, holding Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ in a bear hug as he sits in the armchair and she thrashes against his hold. SCP-141-D sustains multiple bite injuries and several headbutts, leading to what was assumed to be a broken nose. Upon examination no injuries were found.

SCP-141-D Note:

Don't you ever put that on me again. Like puttin' a fightin' dog in a jumper. I'll kill 'er next time.

Site ⬛⬛ Memo:

Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ requesting immediate termination of employment. Denied

[kisses-for-you]

shot - e. buckley

evan buckley x gn!reader

summary: a visit to the 118 goes wrong when a grief-stricken man with a gun storms in.

w/c: 2.4k

⚠️ TW: gun, shooting

You made your way to the 118 firehouse, a container of cheesecake cradled in your arms. You'd baked it especially for them, making sure to save an extra slice for Chimney, who had raved about it last time.

As you stepped inside, Buck greeted you with his signature smile, his blue eyes lighting up as he noticed the dessert in your hands. "You really didn't have to," he said, pulling you into a hug. "I wanted to," you replied, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. "Besides, Chimney practically begged for more last time."

Buck laughed, taking the cheesecake from you and leading you upstairs to set it on the table where the rest of the crew was gathered. "You should stay awhile," he suggested. "At least until the next call." It didn't take much convincing. Spending time with Buck and his team always made you feel like you were part of something special - they were like a second family to you.

But the peaceful atmosphere didn't last.

About fifteen minutes later, a shout echoed from downstairs, shattering the mood. Everyone turned their heads toward the commotion, a collective unease settling over the group. Everyone exchanged wary glances before rising to investigate. As you all gathered at the top of the staircase, what you saw sent a cold chill down your spine. A man stood at the bottom, brandishing a gun, his voice trembling with rage and desperation. "You killed my wife!" he screamed, his face contorted in agony. "Now you're all going to pay!" The man's behavior sent a wave of fear through you as he ordered everyone downstairs.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you couldn't afford to panic. Slowly, you began descending the stairs with the others, taking note of the man's shaky hands, the sweat beading on his forehead, and the wild look in his eyes. You leaned toward Buck, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look at him closely, babe. He looks like he's under the influence of something."

Buck followed your gaze, his brows furrowing as he observed the man more closely. You continue, "His hands are trembling a lot, he's sweating excessively and his eyes look wide and panicked. That can't be normal." Buck nodded in agreement, whispering back, "You're right. If he really is under the influence, it makes this ten times more dangerous because he could be unpredictable. We need to be careful."

Before you could say anything else, the man's eyes snapped to you. "What are you whispering about?" he demanded. "N-nothing," you stuttered, hating how fear made your voice falter. "Better be," he growled, his eyes darting between you and Buck.

Buck gently put his hand on the small of your back, his touch bringing some comfort to you. ‌"It's okay, baby. We'll be fine," he tried to reassure you, but he didn't seem so certain himself.

Once you were downstairs, everyone spread out slightly, but Buck stayed close, his touch never leaving you. The man's breathing was erratic, and he was clearly unstable. You kept glancing at Buck, who kept his hand lightly on your back, a silent promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to you. "Stay calm," Buck whispered again, his voice low and controlled, even though you could feel his pulse quicken through the light pressure of his hand.

The man's gaze darted between the firefighters, paranoia swirling in his bloodshot eyes. His grip on the gun tightened, knuckles white against the metal. "You think I'm bluffing?" he growled, eyes wild. "You think I won't do it?"

‌Behind you, Eddie slowly moved to your right, his movements so subtle that you almost didn't notice. You could tell he was preparing for something, but you weren't sure what. ‌Chimney tried to reason with the man, "We're not the ones who hurt your wife, man. Let's talk about this, figure out what happened. There's no need for this to get worse."

‌The man's hand shook even more violently, the gun bobbing in the air. "Shut up! You don't know anything!"

Hen had positioned herself slightly to the left, closer to the phone. The man glanced away for a moment, his focus faltering. ‌But then, suddenly, he snapped back to you and Buck, eyes narrowing. "You two," he snarled, pointing the gun directly at you. "You were whispering. Come here."

Buck stepped forward in front of you, shielding you instinctively. "Leave her out of this. She's not the one you want," he said, his voice dangerously steady, but there was a tremor underneath that only you could hear. The man's eyes darted between the two of you, flickering with uncertainty. His breathing grew more erratic by the second. You knew Buck was ready to move if he had to, but the wrong move could end disastrously.

‌You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady as you started to speak, hoping to diffuse the situation as best as you could. "We don't want any trouble. Please, just put the gun down. We can talk this out, okay?"

‌The man wavered for a split second, his grip faltering. His eyes flickered to you, and for a moment, you saw some uncertainty, or even hesitation. His grip on the gun loosened slightly, his stance wavering. You hoped this would de-escalate or else this would all spiral out of control.‌ "You don't have to do this," you said softly, keeping your hands where he could see them. "Whatever happened to your wife, it wasn't their fault. They're just here to help."

‌For a moment, the man looked confused at your words. He probably assumed you were also a firefighter but he seemed to realise that you weren't. Then, his face twisted in anger. "Help? You call letting her die helping?" His voice cracked, desperation leaking into his words. He looked over at the rest of the 118. "I trusted you guys. She trusted you!"

‌Eddie inched a little closer, but the man suddenly noticed the movement, snapping his attention back to Eddie. "Stop!" he yelled, pointing the gun wildly between all of you. "Stay where you are! I swear, I'll shoot!" ‌Eddie froze, hands up, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. Buck stepped closer to you again, his body tense, ready to move if needed. ‌"Listen," Buck said, his voice calm but firm. "We're sorry about what happened to your wife. But this isn't going to help. This isn't going to bring her back. Please, let's just talk."

‌The man's face contorted with pain, his eyes glossy, filled with unshed tears. His arm was trembling so badly that you feared he might pull the trigger by accident. His voice wavered, "I-I don't know what to do anymore..."

‌Hen, who'd managed to get a little closer to the phone, locked eyes with you. She signalled for you to keep him talking. The longer you stalled, the better chance you had of getting help. ‌Taking a breath, you spoke gently. "I can't imagine how much you're hurting. Losing someone like that... it's unbearable. But this isn't what your wife would want."

‌He lightly flinched at that, and you knew you'd struck something deep. Did you say the wrong thing? You hoped you hadn't or you could end up dead - or even worse, one of the 118. "You don't know what she'd want," he muttered, though the conviction in his voice was fading.

‌"I don't," you admitted. "But I can tell you loved her. And I know that if she was here right now, she'd want you to be safe. She wouldn't want you to throw your life away."

‌Tears slipped down his cheeks, and his hand shook violently, the gun lowering just slightly. But then, almost out of nowhere, a sharp ring pierced the air - the phone. ‌The man jumped, startled by the sound, and in his panic, his finger tightened on the trigger.

Bang!

Everything happened in a blur. You felt Buck pulling you to the ground as the shot rang out. There was shouting, movement all around, and you didn't even know where the bullet went. Your ears rang from the sound, and your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

‌When you finally managed to focus again, you saw Eddie and Bobby rushing toward the man, disarming him as he stumbled backward in shock. Hen and Chimney were already moving to check on everyone.

‌Buck looked down at you, still shielding you even though the danger had passed. Until he felt something. ‌Buck pulled away slightly, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the blood soaking through your shirt. "No, no, no..." he muttered, his hands trembling as he pressed down on your abdomen. You hadn't even realized you'd been hit, the shock of everything numbing the pain.

‌"Buck?" your voice came out weaker than you intended and the moment you heard it, the reality started to sink in. The bullet must have hit you. You tried to focus, but the pain was spreading, sharp and hot.

‌"Hey, stay with me," Buck said urgently, panic creeping into his voice. "You're gonna be okay. Chim! Hen!" His voice cracked as he called for help, but you could barely focus on him anymore. The world felt fuzzy at the edges, the sound of everyone around you starting to blur.

‌Chimney was beside you in an instant, his hands moving quickly to assess the wound. "Alright, we've got you," Chim said, his voice steadier than Buck's, but you could see the worry etched in his face. Hen was already rushing to grab supplies and Eddie tried to move Buck to the side but Buck refused to budge, his hand still pressed against the wound, his eyes locked on yours. "Stay with me, please," Buck whispered, his voice breaking. You could see the desperation in his eyes, his fear for you palpable.

‌Chimney spoke more urgently now. "Buck, you need to let us work. We need to stop the bleeding." ‌Buck hesitated, his grip tightening as if letting go of you would mean losing you, but finally, he stepped back, allowing Chimney to take over. Hen was back in seconds, placing pressure on the wound as Chimney worked quickly, his face calm but focused.

‌You felt Buck's hand grasp yours, his fingers trembling. "You're gonna be fine," he kept saying, over and over, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. But your body felt heavy, the pain sharp. ‌You tried to speak, to tell him you were okay, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, you just squeezed his hand weakly, hoping it was enough.

‌"Hang in there," Hen said as she prepared an IV, her hands moving swiftly. "We'll get you to the hospital soon."

‌Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The world around you was dimming, the edges of your vision going dark. You could hear the sirens in the distance, you knew help was coming but it felt so far away. Buck's voice was the only thing grounding you, the only thing keeping you from slipping away entirely.

‌"I love you," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper, the words laced with fear. "Please... don't leave me." ‌You tried to hold on to that, to his voice, to the warmth of his hand, but the pain was overwhelming. The last thing you saw before the darkness took over was your boyfriend's face, tear-streaked and terrified, as the world faded to black.

(TIMESKIP - the next day)

When you finally woke up, the harsh lights above blurred into focus. Your body felt heavy, your chest tight with pain. For a moment, everything was hazy, and you couldn't remember how you got there, but then it hit you like a truck. The gunman, the shot, Buck's terrified voice.

‌You blinked, your vision clearing just enough to see Buck sat beside you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. His hand was wrapped around yours, his grip so tight you wondered if he'd been holding it like that the whole time.

‌"Buck," you whispered, your voice weak. The simple act of speaking made your throat burn, but you needed to let him know you were here, okay - or at least alive. ‌"You're awake," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. He sat up straighter, leaning closer to you. "Thank God, you're awake."

‌You managed a weak smile, though every movement felt like a huge effort. "Hey," you whisper, "It's okay, Buck. I'm okay."

‌Buck let out a breathy laugh, though it was laced with a kind of relief and disbelief. "You scared the hell out of me," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I thought-" He swallowed hard, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought I was going to lose you."

‌Buck looked like he was barely holding it together. "Baby, your heart stopped. It-" he paused, his voice shaking. "But they brought you back. You're okay now. You're going to be okay." He said it like he's reassuring himself. ‌You glanced down at yourself, seeing the bandages across your abdomen. It hurt but the pain was nothing compared to the fear you had felt before everything went black.

‌"I was so scared," Buck continued, his voice breaking as he squeezed your hand again. "I couldn't do anything but watch you bleed, and I..." He trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to shake away the memory. "I don't know what I would've done if we lost you."

‌"Shh," you murmured, managing to lift your other hand weakly to touch his face. "I'm right here." ‌He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into your hand. "I love you," he whispered again, like he needed you to know, like you might forget if he doesn't say it enough. "You mean everything to me."

‌Tears stung your eyes, the overwhelming emotions mixing with the pain in your body. "I love you too, Buck," you whispered back. The words were weak, but they were all you could give him in that moment.

‌He smiled, though it was shaky, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. "Just rest, okay? The doctors said you're going to need time to heal."

‌You nodded slowly, exhaustion starting to pull at you again. The pain meds were dulling the ache in your body but your body was craving rest. As you closed your eyes again, Buck's hand stayed firmly in yours. He promised himself he would stay with you however long you needed him to.

911 masterlist

[secretly-tumb1r]

Roadtrip - hotch x reader

summary: when hotch finally sheds his stubbornness, he decides to drive back to Quantico from New York, in an attempt to rest his punctured eardrum. You couldn’t leave him without company, so you join him.

Warning: 18+ MDNI, making out, alcohol usage

A/n: first hotch fic hope you love it!! Also i cant exactly remember the dialogue between hotch and prentiss at the start forgive me😭. Enjoy lovelies💞

masterlist

(gif not mine all credits to original creator <3)

“Here, for your flight back.” Hotch hands the platter of baked goods to Agent Prentiss.

“What, you aren’t coming with us?” Her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity. “No, I really shouldn’t be flying” He shakes his head. “are you sure? it’s a 7 hour ride back to Quantico” Rossi asks, words chosen carefully. Hotch looks down. “I’ve taken that road before, you’ll see loads of country, beautiful scenery, maybe you should extend your trip a day or two.” Hotch easily picks up what he was putting down, suggesting he should take a rest. “Thank you” “Take all the time you need” Rossi nods at him and gets in the black SUV.

“Hey.. care for some company?” you smile brightly at Aaron and surprisingly, he returns the gesture. “Sure why not, hop in,” his eyes twinkle with happiness at the thought of you two on a roadtrip alone, maybe even in a hotel room. You cheerfully make your way to the passenger door, waving a quick goodbye to the rest of your team.

“Well.. we all know what’s gonna happen in the one day Hotch and y/n will take off” Morgan teases. “I don’t wanna think about it..” Reid grimaces at the thought, earning a laugh from the rest.

—————————————————————————

You had been on the road for quite some time yet. The sky was darkening and you were engulfed by silence bar the quiet radio playing in the background. Your eyes dared to close as your head fell down as sleep was consuming you. Work lately was.. exhausting. Aarons eyes shifted slightly from the road to your tired physique and his heart nearly broke. Seeing you so tired, he made his mind up to pull over at the nearest hotel.

It wasn’t for another 2 miles that his car finally stopped, and you were awakened from your slumber by a soft voice. “y/n” he gently patted your shoulder, “cmon wake up, we’re at a hotel” you stirred in your sleep “mm 5 more minutes” you practically moaned and leaned into his touch. His mouth went dry, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as a he took a big gulp. “y/n, wake up” he said a bit sterner. Your eyes shot open at the familiar voice, embarrassment filling your body. “Sorry! sorry i’m up.” you try to look as awake as possible. “cmon let’s go in we’re both tired”.

Hotch was normally so.. stoic. His face blurred of any emotion except seriousness. You were pretty sure in the one year you had worked at the BAU, you’d never seen him smile. That was awake Hotch, sleepy hotch was merely the opposite. It looked like all attempts to contain human emotion were discarded a few hours back. Sleepy Hotch was more.. human like, it was refreshing seeming him emit feelings like the rest of us mortals.

“I’m sorry sir, we only have one available room right now.” Hotch’s gaze didn’t shift off the guy at the till. “It’s fine. We’ll take that please.” he hands him his credit card. “Are you sure? There’s only one bed in that room” Your breath hitched. You’d either be sharing the bed or one of you would have to sleep on the floor, which you assumed Hotch would take it upon himself to take his place on the floor. “Yeah it’s fine we’ll work something out” he sighs deeply and shoves his hands down his pockets.

Aaron tried to keep his composure at the thought of you two sharing a bed. Of course he knew it wouldn’t happen, he’d have to sleep on the floor, but the thought of it suddenly made him wide awake.

When you made it to the room you realised you had no change to sleep in, so you discarded your pants and bra and pulled your button up shirt that reached your mid thighs down. Stepping out the bathroom while tying your hair up in a low bun, Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. You were radiating. Even tired and only in a shirt you still managed to look exquisite. His eyes hungrily scanned your body stopping at your exposed thighs, arousal building up inside him. He did his best to look you in the eye as he stared in silence.

“Like what you see boss?” You teased, your eyebrows lifting suggestively. “uh- “ he gulped hard. “i’m gonna go uhm- yeah”. He disappeared in the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on his face, he took his tie, belt and button up shirt off, leaving him in his pants and a undershirt he appeared to wear under his shirt. When he stepped out, you had to keep yourself from salivating. His biceps looked incredibly big, and his pants fit him perfectly. You bit down on your bottom lip, a gesture you only did when you were excited. Hotch knew that. His confidence building back up inside him as he repeated your previous words.

“Like what you see” and he suggestively raised his eyebrows like you did just moments ago. “uh- i- “ He laughed brightly, which took you by surprise because untill a few moments ago, you hadn’t even seen him smile before. Your shoulders relaxed as you slumped down on the bed. “so i’ll uhm- take the floor” he began to say. You quickly interrupted him. “cmon boss, don’t be like that, it’s only one night. I promise i’ll keep my distance” His mouth twitched into a smile, and his heart grew. He didn’t think you’d suggest sharing a bed, but he was glad you did. He joined you in bed, heart beating so hard he thought it would jump out his chest.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy, like a highschool kid with her first crush. His presence was so hard to ignore, and your body moved before your mind as you turned to your side to face him. He was laying on his back looking up at the ceiling, he looked so beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire his features. His dark eyebrows, and even darker eyes, his high cheekbones and his big nose. Something about big noses excited something in you. You had no idea why.

Hotch turned his head to look at you, his eyes scanning your body. Your hands were pressed under the side of your head, and your leg was slightly bent, showing the curve of your ass. He felt his pants tighten as he abruptly got up, walking to the mini bar.

“Would you care for a drink?” You lifted yourself on your elbows to look at him. “Sure why not”. One drink turned into two and two turned into too many, and quickly you were laughing and telling eachother embarrassing childhood stories.

“No i’m not even lying! I licked his teeth!” you said as you teasingly pushed his arm. Hotch, between laughs, said “Your first kiss, and you licked his teeth?” He collapsed on the bed laughing. “What can i say i wasnt the best kisser”. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, his eyes filling with lust.

“Are you still bad at kissing?” His dark eyes bore into yours as you softly said “yes” picking up what he was putting down. “Why don’t you show me and i’ll give you some pointers.” His hand met your cheek, grazing it gently, as he pulled you in, his lips crashing onto yours. He tasted like alcohol and sweetness, intoxicating. His cologne filled your nostrils as you shifted your legs to straddle him, both of your thighs pressed against his ribs, as he cupped your face and tilted your head back, deepening the kiss. His hand moved to your thighs, kneading the soft skin making you gasp. He took the opportunity of you opening your mouth more to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His soft tongue dancing in a slow rhythm with your own. He moved both of his hands to your thighs gripping them tightly as your hands make their way to his hair, pulling it.

Your mouths moved in tandem and unity, a pace that was so calming yet so awakening. You had never felt this way before, and now that you had, you never wanted to back to feeling how you used to.

first part what do y’all thinkkkk?? i know this isn’t very “erotic” but i js needed to see if you guys would like it. Lmk if you do and i’ll post a very very spicy part 2 lovelies. LOVE YOU ALL MWWWAHHHH kisses xoxo💞