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suashii · 5 months

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒟𝐼𝒩𝒩𝐸𝑅 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ haitani ran x f!reader. 1.7k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ established relationship ﾉ teasing ﾉ fingering ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ mentions of creampie

if you were in your old apartment, one of your neighbors would have been banging on your door with a noise complaint by now. it’s one of the many perks of living with bonten’s haitani ran; his penthouse allows you to live without the concern of angry neighbors berating you for attempting to find joy in your daily tasks. you would make a list of all the other benefits if you weren’t too busy sliding around the kitchen in your socks and using the spatula as a makeshift microphone.

the bluetooth speaker sitting on the edge of the counter farthest from the food you’re cooking blares a song from the random playlist you had put on some time ago when you began to prepare dinner. as much as you love your new home, you have to admit; the silence that blankets the apartment while ran is away can be suffocating. you’d much rather have him home with you but your musical performances can tide you over until he finishes things up at work.

a lyric you can never resist singing approaches, gluing your feet to the spot in front of the stove as you ready to belt it out. you’re in the middle of hitting a note when a pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back so that you’re flush with his chest. you don’t have to turn your head to tell it’s ran. “you, my dear, have the voice of an angel.”

“someone’s out for brownie points,” you joke through a giggle. even though you haven’t faced any complaints regarding your loud music, maybe you should consider lowering the volume just a bit. you didn’t hear the automated ring of the lock signaling ran’s arrival. hell, you couldn’t even hear him coming towards you.

“me? never.” he shakes his head but a knowing smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. his chin comes to rest on your shoulder and you can see the two tones of his short, styled hair. it was neatly gelled this morning but now, a few strands stray from the coiffed majority. he must have been running his hands through it all day.

a deep, thoughtful hum vibrates the junction between your neck and shoulder, effectively gaining your attention. “what’s with all the clothes under this apron?”

you snort. what he’s getting at is clear but you feel the need to kid with him first. “that’s kind of the point of an apron—to protect the clothes you’re wearing beneath it.”

“i suppose,” he sighs, the breath of air wafting past your ear and sending a chill down your spine. “although, i do think you’d look a lot better without these.” he tugs on the hem of your cropped top and waistband of your thin lounge shorts. they slap against your skin with a resounding snap, pulling a surprised squeak up from your throat.

you’d be lying if you said ran’s ministrations and sugared words didn’t turn you on, but he could wait until after dinner was ready if his plan was to get you all hot and bothered. “you’re so shameless.”

“don’t worry, though,” he continues, ignoring your statement. you feel the neat bow tied behind your back significantly loosen. the strings of your apron brush against the bare skin of your legs as heavy hands find a home on your hips to spin you around. ran smiles and the corners of his violet eyes crinkle. “we can fix that easily.”

he pulls the apron over your head, discarding it on the island behind him. in one fluid movement, his hands grip your thighs to lift you onto the counter. the surface is cool beneath your skin and you fail to hold back a gasp at the contact. your parted lips give him the perfect opportunity to lean forward and capture them in a kiss. it’s a hungry clash of teeth and mingling of tongues that sends heat directly down to your core. even when ran pulls away, a string of saliva keeps the two of you connected. “mm, i’ve been thinking about kissing those pretty lips all day.”

you grin at the thought of being on his mind when you’re apart from each other. a sense of pride swells in your heart knowing that you mean so much to him. you’re not able to appreciate it for long before his mouth is on yours again. wandering hands make their way up to grope at your breasts. nimble fingers sneak their way under the hem of your top, pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks. the rough sensation draws a whimper up from your throat. ran’s chuckle rumbles against your lips.

“alright, alright, i’ll stop teasing.” his voice is breathy as he pulls away from you. heavy hands fall from your tits but he makes no move to pull your shirt back into place—he’d rather leave them out on display. instead, his hands bunch up the smooth fabric of your shorts. ran’s thumb taps at your thigh. “lift your hips up for me, yeah?”

you follow his command, steadying yourself on the counter before raising your pelvis. he smiles at your quick obedience, dragging both your satin shorts and panties down the length of your legs and casting them away to a pile on the floor. he, too, lowers to the floor, propping himself up on his knees.

from this position, he’s got the perfect view of your pussy. he licks his lips and whispers, “gorgeous.” his lips curl up in a smirk, eyes still trained on your cunt. “and so wet. you must have been thinking about me, too, huh?”

you nod, exhaling a heavy breath as deft fingers run up and down the slit of your puffy folds. his movements are deliberate, slow and calculated. it’s only when he’s ready that you feel one finger prodding at your entrance, ever so slowly sinking deeper and deeper into you until you can feel the cold metal of his ring against your heat. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to the chill before he’s dragging his finger out of your gummy walls just as leisurely as it entered. the lazy pumping continues and you’re sure he’s enjoying himself; if the smile tugging at his lips is any evidence. you, however, are frustrated. you try your best not to squirm as you speak. “more.”

“hm? more what?” he finally looks up to meet your eyes. there’s a teasing sparkle in his lilac irises, one that urges you to elaborate. and you know you should, otherwise, you’ll never get what you want.

“another finger,” you whine. “‘n faster, please.”

he huffs out a laugh through his nose. “as you wish.”

ran’s a man of his word, plunging another lithe finger into the warmth of your cunt. you suck in a shaky gasp at the uncharacteristically fast intrusion—although it satisfies you, fills you up like you had hoped it would. and, just as he promised, ran picks up the pace. the relaxed speed becomes one that’s more erratic, desperate even. with the curl of his fingers, he reaches the spot he was just short of hitting earlier, the one he knows works you up.

“f-fuck!” you choke out. your exclamation brings a grin to ran’s face. you never fail to give him the exact reaction he’s looking for. but—and he’s not afraid to admit this—he’s greedy. he wants, no, needs more. he’s sure you’re willing to give and he’s more than happy to take.

still knuckles-deep in your cunt, ran dips his head down to leave a soft kiss on the bud of nerves settled at your apex. you twitch beneath his lips and the man takes it as a sign to continue. his tongue pokes out, wet and pointed, to circle the sensitive pearl. your thighs tense tighter and tighter with each swirl and the knot in your tummy grows taut, threatening to snap at any moment.

ran easily takes notice of your impending orgasm. one final push is all it will take to send you over the edge and he knows exactly what will do the trick. you’ve done so well for him, of course he’ll reward you for being good. he bites back a laugh before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit to suck at it—once, twice, thrice, until your back is arching and your eyes are rolling into your skull.

a wave of pure bliss washes over you but your cries of pleasure are overpowered by the jolting blare of the fire alarm. you don’t have a single second to wind down from your orgasm before ran pulls away from you, drags his fingers out of you, to deal with the situation on the stove. you’re left a shaking, sweaty mess perched atop the granite counters.

with his clean hand, ran easily turns off the burner and removes the pan of ruined food from the heat. the fingers covered in your essence make their way up to his mouth while he examines what was meant to be tonight’s meal. you watch as he casually cleans the indication of your arousal off of his hand. “well,” he pulls his fingers out with an exaggerated pop, “that’s beyond help.”

his show sends yet another wave of excitement straight to your core. the bulge pressing against the front of his tailored pants is no help either, creating an outline that’s practically screaming ’look at me!’. all you can think about is ran between your legs, his cock buried in you, and the warmth of his release painting your walls. you tilt your head back and let out a breathy sigh. “shit.”

“no need to fret,” ran assures you with a knowing smile. “i’m sure that restaurant you like can fit me in for a last-minute reservation.”

the veiled innuendo is cause for a pout. you and him both know that dinner is the last thing on your mind.

heyoooo, it's sua :3 thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: tokyo revengers #haitani ran x reader #ran x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #ran x you #tokrev x you #ran smut #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers imagines

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fullcravings · 6 months

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Fudgy Crinkle Top M&M Brownies

#chocolate #fudge #m&ms #brownies #bars #food #dessert #kids #baking #color #halloween #recipe #bakerstable

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wishesunderthestars · 1 year

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Eunoia // The First Christmas

Summary: An Eunoia Christmas special in which the pack spends their first Christmas together.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Masterlist

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

Christmas music poured out of the large speakers in the living room. A cozy fire was burning in the grand fireplace and colorful socks, large and small, were hanging from the mantle. Firewood was stacked next to it in a box painted with stars and mistletoes. The soothing smell of firewood mingled with the sugary aroma of all the desserts that were laid on every available surface.

Four different kinds of cookies—sugar cookies with icing in the shapes of Christmas trees, snowmen and snowflakes, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate crinkle cookies, and of course gingerbread cookies—, red velvet cake, cinnamon rolls, black forest yule log, cupcakes of various flavors, espresso martini brownies and a massive gingerbread house currently residing in the middle of the dining table. All of them homemade.

You had been cooking and baking since the previous day to have everything ready for Christmas dinner. You had jokingly suggested ordering everything to avoid the hustle and it had sent Seokjin into a frenzy, spluttering and scolding you while threateningly holding a large rolling pin. You hadn’t suggested it again.

Most of Christmas Eve had been spent in the kitchen and everyone in the family had offered a helping hand. You, Seokjin, and Yoongi were in the center of the action as the ones with the most experience in cooking. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, dividing the tasks and handing things to each other. You had put on music and danced around while the younger ones tried to steal bites of whatever you were making. It was so much fun, you hadn’t noticed the day passing until Jimin came to drag you to the living room to watch Home Alone.

You had been invited to more than five Christmas parties, including a charity ball hosted by your parents. Your mother had expressed her deep disappointment when you had rejected the invitation without an explanation. For the first time, you didn’t care at all. This Christmas you would do what you actually wanted to do with the people you loved.

For the special occasion, you had bought a form-fitting green velvet dress cinched at the right hip with three white crystals and ending above your knees. A section of your hair was pinned to the side with a diamond clip and you had kept your makeup simple but elegant with red lips and neutral eyeshadows.

“John texted that they are on the way,” Namjoon said, appearing at the door of your bedroom. He was wearing a black turtleneck with a blazer over it. Everyone was dressing a little more formally for the dinner.

“Give me a minute, I’m almost ready.” You looked at yourself in the mirror again. It wasn’t nearly as extravagant as what you used to wear at the balls hosted by your parents but you liked this so much more. The finishing touch was a simple diamond teardrop necklace.

Namjoon came to stand behind you and took the necklace from your hands. “Let me.” He brushed your hair to the side before settling the necklace against your collarbones and clipping it. He placed a kiss on the side of your neck, soft as the touch of a butterfly, before taking your hand and leading you outside. His touch still ignited a fire within you, strong and steady. “You look perfect. As usual.”

“Cheeky wolf,” you said, pushing his chest lightly.

The Christmas tree towered over everything in the living room. It was the biggest one you had found and the top of the star was touching the ceiling, even though the walls in the Castle were pretty tall. Normally, you would go for something smaller that was easy to decorate but that wasn’t a problem now. Hoseok had spotted this one at the Christmas Tree Farm and had called everyone over to see it, they all got so excited and you couldn’t deny them. So you had one of the largest Christmas trees you had ever seen in your living room.

A huge Christmas tree also meant more ornaments and more lights, which prompted a long trip to the mall and three carts full of Christmas decorations. Last Christmas, you had only decorated the main rooms with Helen’s help. After your breakup and considering your busy schedule, you hadn’t been in the mood to celebrate. After all, you went home only to sleep. This year, you weren’t alone anymore—you were starting to realize that you were never truly alone—and you promised yourself you would make this the best Christmas for your family.

You decorated every single room in the house, spending hours on ladders and dividing ornaments, and sticking lights on the walls. It was worth it to see their smiles. For most of them, it would be the first proper Christmas they experienced.

Jungkook was hopping up and down all the time the first few days, carrying his sketchbook everywhere to draw the tree and the lights and the animated Christmas villages, trains, and houses placed all over the Castle. For Taehyung, it was the first time he was seeing a Christmas tree up close and he couldn’t take his eyes away from it. The first night after decorating it, he didn’t want to go back to his room. You wouldn’t let him sleep on the couch alone so you carried the extra mattress you kept in the storage closet and you, Jimin, and Taehyung slept underneath the lights of the Christmas tree.

Gifts were overflowing now, spilling past the edges of the tree and taking up a lot of the floor space. Small and large ones, in colorful wrapping paper, red, green, silver, gold, and every color you could imagine. You had agreed to wait until after dinner when everyone was here to exchange gifts.

Hoseok and Yoongi were nestled together in a heavy red blanket on the couch, a Hallmark movie playing on the TV. Yoongi’s cheeks were dusted pink, probably from a venture outside.

They both turned at the sound of your heels on the floor.

Hoseok gazed at you in appreciation. “Green looks really good on you. You look incredible.”

“Thank you,” you said, doing a little curtsy. “I would say the same about you but I can’t see underneath that blanket. It isn’t even cold in here.” If anything, the Castle had great heating and the fireplace was also adding to the warmth.

He ran his hand over the blanket. “But I like it. It’s cozy.”

“You’ll wrinkle your shirt. Get out of the blanket and let me see your clothes. John will be here soon and Amelia won’t be far behind.”

“Come on,” Yoongi told him, pushing the blanket off. Hoseok giggled and waited for Yoongi to take his hands to pull him up. “I have to go to the kitchen to check on the food, anyways.”

Yoongi was wearing a blood-red silk shirt and black pants. His hair, the longest it had been since you met him, was framing his face in soft waves. Hoseok had unbuttoned his red velvet blazer leaving his sheer white shirt in view.

“You both look amazing,” you said, clapping your hands. The excitement of the day was making you a little giddy. “Let’s go to the kitchen then.”

“I’ll go to the kitchen, you’ll stay here and wait for our guests.” Yoongi stopped you, throwing an easy smile over his shoulder.

“Seriously?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He paused and turned around. “Deadly so,” he said. “We don’t want you ruining your dress.”

Hoseok laughed, loud and bold, the way you loved. The house got a little brighter, a little warmer.

“He’s talking as if his shirt alone doesn’t cost a thousand dollars,” you muttered.

“Does he know that?” Namjoon asked.

“I’m sure he does, we went to the boutique together and the total was out of this world.”

The shirt was from the new Valentino collection and soon after it had been launched, you had been invited to the boutique to take a look at the new pieces. You didn’t remember why and how Yoongi had tagged along but you did remember that you had spent five hours trying on clothes and commenting on each look. You had left the boutique with fifteen more pieces than you had estimated and your card thousands of dollars lighter.

You picked up the discarded blanket Yoongi and Hoseok had been wrapped up in and folded it, placing it over the arm of the couch. You surveyed the room once again to make sure that everything was in place. Because of your job, you had learned to instantly spot if anything was amiss during any given scene. It wasn’t like any of your guests would care about a mismatched candle or a wrinkled tablecloth but you were a perfectionist in every aspect of your life.

“It smells like a sweets factory in here,” you said. “I’m not sure it was a good idea to put everything out already. Alice will want to eat the cookies as soon as she sees them.”

Hoseok took a deep breath of the sweet aroma. Cinnamon and sugar, chocolate and vanilla. “I want to eat them. But I’m too afraid of Jin.”

“We did spend hours making this dinner. Believe me, you won’t regret waiting.”

Hoseok took your hand in his. “I’m sure I won’t. Everything already smells delicious.”

“It must be almost ready,” Namjoon said, just as Jimin walked out of the kitchen.

The cat hybrid was wearing an electric blue flowy velvet jacket, a low-cut black shirt, and black pants. A black choker hugged his neck, expensive lace in swirling patterns and from it, blue tourmaline stones fell like teardrops.

Jungkook followed him. Like Namjoon, he was dressed in all black, a black satin shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and black dress pants. Half of his hair was pulled up, showcasing the silver earrings in the shape of arrows adorning his ears while a silver necklace dipped down his chest.

They bounced to you, their smiles widening. You stopped them before they could reach you, already knowing what they were going to do. “No one mess with my lipstick, I just applied it and red lipstick is very easy to smudge.”

Jimin pouted, his bottom lip sticking out. The lip tint he had applied painted his lips a dark rosy hue, the gloss making them shine. You had to hold yourself back from doing exactly what you had warned them against.

“But… We’ll be careful,” Jungkook said, eyes wide the way he knew could get the pack to do anything for him.

“Photos first, then dinner, then we’ll see.” Jungkook pouted too. The last thing you wanted was John asking if you had started eating without them, already knowing that that wasn’t the reason. To appease the younger ones, you pulled them both in a hug and they instantly melted against you, wrapping their arms around your waist. “Our guests are almost here, just wait an hour or so.”

You felt Jungkook nod before both of them started scenting you. You couldn’t appreciate it the way a hybrid would but it was enough for you to see how it settled them to have your scent of them and leave their scent on you. As long as it made them happy, you didn’t care about anything else.

Regardless of what Yoongi said, you made your way to the chef’s kitchen next. You hadn’t touched the other kitchen, which was decorated for the holidays with a Christmas tree, garlands on the countertops, and ornaments on each cupboard’s handle. It would be a shame to dirty it. For as much cooking you had done and all the dishes you had made in just two days, the kitchen should be a disaster—flour everywhere, various ingredients littered on the counters, bowls, pans, and pots piled in the sink. It was the opposite. Everything was in its proper place, the countertops shining.

Yoongi had the underrated but very much appreciated habit of putting everything back in place after he was done with it and cleaning as he went along. He had claimed he needed a clean space to work so you and Seokjin had also tried to do the same to help him along. As a result, the chef’s kitchen was now spotless.

Seokjin was decorating the last dish, a perfectly roasted lamb surrounded by baby potatoes on a huge golden platter. Taehyung was plastered to his back, looking over his shoulder at what he was doing. Seokjin was so used to having one of the youngest hybrids stuck to him that he didn’t even bat an eye. Yoongi was standing next to them, surveying the results of the long day of cooking looking pleased.

“It smells incredible, my mouth may have started watering,” you said.

“It came out really good,” Seokjin said, pouring the glaze carefully. “I hope they’ll like it. It could have used a few more spices and I forgot to-”

“Shhhh.” Taehyung’s deep voice stopped his rambling before it could begin. “It’s perfect.”

You place a hand on Seokjin’s arm “They’ll love it, believe me. It will be the best Christmas dinner they’ve ever had.”

Seokjin put the sauce down and looked at the finished dish. He had pushed the sleeves of his white shirt up and his black and gold blazer was thrown over the back of one of the chairs. “Everything is ready. Should we bring the dishes out?” He looked up at you then and you noticed how his eyes trailed on your body appreciatively. “Wow, someone looks good tonight.”

“We all look really good tonight,” you said. “We’ll take so many photos. So many photos.”

Yoongi groaned but you knew he didn’t mind. He pretended he didn’t like it but never told you no even if you were taking photos for an hour, trying to find the perfect shot. That one had been a very long afternoon.

Taehyung turned around, resting his cheek on Seokjin’s back. The edges of his smile blurred, his lips falling open. “Green- You look beautiful in green.”

You had worn green on a different night too. A beautiful long dress in a similar shade to the one you were wearing. You had wanted to burn it, to rip it apart with scissors after everything was done. Such a magnificent dress had turned hideous in your eyes because it represented the most awful parts of luxury, the most awful parts of humanity.

You hadn’t worn a green dress since then.

“Are you okay, baby?” you asked, caressing his cheek. You didn’t want to bring it up, you didn’t want to speak about that awful night. Not when this was supposed to be a joyous day.

Taehyung leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “I’m happy. You really look beautiful in green.”

“Thank you,” you said. Both of you had come a long way.

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

You smoothed down your dress. “Our guests are here. I’ll go greet then and I’ll come back to help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yoongi said, shooing you away. “Go greet them and make small talk or whatever people do at these things. We’ve got this handled.”

“Fine, fine,” you said in the end.

Namjoon had already opened the door when you walked into the living room. John was helping Alice take off her red coat while his wife put her own coat on the coat hanger on the wall by the door. Amelia did the same while talking to her. Jimin and Jungkook were hugging Astrid and Taylor, who was holding a transparent bag with what you guessed was an enormous box of desserts inside. As if you needed more.

“Merry Christmas!” you greeted them.

Alice struggled out of the last sleeve and ran to you, throwing herself around your waist and almost sending both of you toppling over.

“Merry Christmas!” she shouted.

“Merry Christmas,” everyone echoed.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts series #bts poly au #bts fanfiction #bts hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts scenarios

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Hello I’m the one who requested a fic for Xavier (p.s I loved it) maybe you could do the same thing but for Wednesday and/or Enid

“Enid, get your had o it the batter!” You scolded the blonde as you lightly slapped her hand out of the batter. “I’m sorry! Your baking is just so good!” She whines, licking off the batter she did manage to scoop out from the bowl, “so good.” She whispered under her breath. “It’s not even done yet!” You exclaimed, pulling away the bowl so she wouldn’t be tempted for another helping of salmonella.

Originally the plan was that you were going to bake a batch of sugar cookies then some lemon butterfly cakes, iced star cookies after that before finishing off with some almond and raspberry jelly drops or s’mores depending on which you were feeling at the time. However Enid insisted that she’d lend a helping hand but that ‘helping hand’ was too preoccupied by dipping itself into the batter more times the you could count.

“So? The batter is always the best part.” Enid counters as though she was speaking a proven fact. “Then don’t come crying to me when your sick in bed from your over indulgence.” You retorted, pinching her cheeks lightly; Looking over the book you had prepped up and began to read the following steps when Enid runs a cold blob of batter down your cheek.

You pause your reading to look at her as she chuckled behind her hand, eyes crinkling in the corners from how wide she was smiling it warmed your heart and forged a playful fire within your soul. You smirk as you dip your finger into the batter, taking advantage of her lack of self awareness to leave a streak of batter across her forehead, causing Enid to gasp. “You didn’t!”

“I did.” You smirked like the shithead you were and before you could blink, Enid had sent a cloud of flour into your hair, powdering it in white. “You better be up to finishing what you start kitten because you just stared a war.” You told her as you sprinkled some edible toppings into the tresses of her blonde hair. Funnily enough her blonde hair looked like the iced topping of a cupcake from where you stood. “I was born ready.” Enid rebutted, already holding a couple of eggs in her hand.

Wednesday didn’t have a sweet tooth per-say so when you were flipping through your big book of bakery one day, you came across all sorts of treats that immediately brought Wednesday to mind; Apple strudel with cider sauce, rhubarb, ginger and raisin muffins, dark chocolate blueberry tarts, Halloween spiderweb cookies and rich ginger brownies.

Wednesday wasn’t as overall enthusiastic about sweet treats like Enid was but that didn’t mean she despised them all together. She just had a different choice in what she’d like to go into them, that’s all. With your mind made up, you immediately went down to the kitchens and got started on baking the first recipe on your list.

Wednesday was curious when you didn’t meet her at her dorm like usual whenever you had spare time on your hands. She wasn’t worried either as she knew very well of your penchant for baking; So it didn’t take long for the Addams to deduce where you’d might be in this current moment and time and sighed. Wednesday found your impulse to bake very endearing but you had a tendency to over bake which then leads to you struggling to carry up your finished products without accidents to occur.

That plus the fact that you had left your tuppaware boxes and bag in her dorm from the last time you came to hang out with herself and Enid. “That fool.” She utters fondly, seeing as she now has a reason to go see you, Wednesday picks up the tuppaware and puts them into the bag and heads down to the kitchen where you had just placed some rich ginger brownies on the cooking rack. “Are those for me?” Her voice took you off guard as you almost flung a oven mitt before realising it was her, you took a deep breath as you placed the mitts on the side.

“Jesus Wednesday, you scared me you flat footed harbinger of darkness!” You swore you could see a small smile on her lips that left as soon as it came. “You forgot these.” She said blandly, holding out the plain carrier bag with Xavier’s cute little doodles across it with the tops of the tuppaware boxes just slightly visible. “Your a life saver Wednesday.” You sighed, crossing the kitchen to take the bag; Only for her to pull the bag away from you with a mischievous glint in her eye which made you confused.

“I’ll give you this, only if you allow me to stay and have the first bite of your ginger brownies.” You made a face as though you were heavily in thought which then quickly turned into that of a happy expression as you reached out to grab the bag. “I accept your deal miss Addams, your throne awaits.” You said almost as exaggeratedly as your bow, causing her to scoff, before taking her hand in your free one and helping her sit upon the counter; From where she studied you like a hawk as you continued to bake.

#wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic #enid sinclair fic #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair x you #enid sinclair imagine #enid sinclair x reader #Enid sinclair imagines

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sovaharbor · 4 months

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"i think i'm already the demiurge," billy says suddenly.

teddy looks over at him, furrowing his brow. "what?"

"i think i'm already the demiurge," billy repeats. he sits up further in their bed, turning to look down at teddy. "i mean, like, think about it, babe. the demiurge is...omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient-- it's everywhere. everything. all the time. so, like, i'm technically already the demiurge, because the demiurge just, y'know, exists."

the furrow of teddy's brow only deepens. he reaches to take the bag of illicit brownie bites out of billy's hands. "you're done with these. three was plenty; five was clearly too much."

"it's not the brownies, tee!" billy exclaims. he slaps a newly-freed hand down on the mattress. "it's me. my brain! i'm cracking into the mainframe like a fucking hacker! and i'm serious, just listen to me! i'm already the demiurge, right? because my perception of time just hasn't caught up to that yet. so, because i think i'm not already the demiurge, that's what my reality reflects. it's, like, manifestation? but waaayyy more convoluted."

"okay, but how exactly does perception of time segue into manifestation? aren't those two different concepts?"

"demiurge existence is convoluted by nature, tee. be for real."

"ugh. i'm not high enough to go along with this," teddy mutters as he pops another brownie bite into his mouth. "keef goin'."

"gladly. so, okay. if the demi-urge is timeless and omnipresent and all those other omni-things, then that's where perception of time comes into play. because we're just perceiving things. right? i mean, obviously. how else are we existing right now? so we're perceiving things, but reality is based on our perception, therefore that's when manifestation comes into play, right? because all that really is, is, like, you trying to conform reality to what you want to perceive. so if i say, 'no! actually, i am the demi-urge, because i literally already am,' then that's manifestation! in a really fucked up way, anyway."

teddy blinks at billy. "but if you're just manifesting your way into being the demiurge...you're not actually the demiurge right now, right?"

billy groans loudly and dramatically, flopping back onto the mattress. "no! wrong! very wrong! the demiurge exists outside of time, tee. omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient! it just exists."

"but you're obviously not the demiurge right now? you're just my husband, billy kaplan-altman, who ate too many weed brownies--"

"tee, i am always the demiurge."

teddy blinks at him again, and this time says nothing.

billy stares right back at him.

"i'm always the demiurge," he repeats. there's something awfully solemn about his tone. "no matter what. i literally cannot escape it. because the demiurge just exists. i'm not the demiurge right now because i think i'm not, even when i actually am, because reality is perception, right? and if the demiurge just exists, outside of time, outside of the bounds of reality...then the demiurge exists right now. and who, teddy kaplan-altman, is the demiurge?"

"you," says teddy, quieter, more solemn himself.

"me," billy says with a nod. "i just haven't caught up to that yet. i've spent this whole time thinking it's something i need to work up to, when this whole time the demiurge has existed right under my nose. when i've existed right under my own nose."

teddy's silent for a few moments, before he rears back with a shake of his head. "nope. nuh-uh. i don't like that." he sits up, zips the bag of brownies shut, and promptly throws it across the bedroom. it hits the wall with a very sad crinkling noise, brownie bites jostled inside of it, and then falls on top of their dresser with another crinkling clatter. "we're gonna stop talking about this before you perceive yourself into demiurge-dom."

"i'm gonna perceive myself into demiurge-dom eventually! i technically already have--"

teddy quickly leans down, pressing a kiss to billy's lips to quiet him. but billy starts to argue /against/ his lips, so teddy pulls back and tells him, "are we going to make out or are you going to turn into the demiurge?"

billy purses his lips. "um..." he scrunches his nose. "well..." he shakes his head. "make out, definitely, thank you."

a few minutes later, though, billy blurts out that he thinks the sims is basically analogous to demiurge practice, and -- well, making out turns into making fucked up little sims characters, but that's definitely a normal friday night for a couple of losers who married their high school sweetheart twice.

#wickling #nobody look at me i think about them a lot despite never posting about them ever on here. sorry #teddy altman #billy kaplan #GOING TO BED NOW GOOD NIGHT.#summer's writing tag

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swirlysmile · 2 years

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hi! can you write something for hangman x reader where the reader loves to bake? sorry it's not too specific but i feel like this could go in many ways so do what you like💙

hell to the yes! hope you enjoy this (short) drabble!

word count: 326

warnings; none

Pastries

Jake loves coming home to the smell of whatever your current experiment was.

Apple pie, peach cobbler, brownies. He loved it all, especially the intoxicating scent that lingered throughout the house until you replaced it with something new. Honestly, he just loves being at home. He doesn’t feel any pressure to be better, and he loves it.

Today, he steps into the house to smell cinnamon rolls.

He’s tired, dropping his duffel bag on the floor. He took a small shower on base, but the cold water did little to ease his aching bones. Those couple hundred push-ups were killer, and though he wouldn’t say it was for the push-ups he totally had a bone to pick with Payback and Fanboy.

Rolling out the dough was grueling, but you’re sure you’d be in a pile of goo on the floor if you had been in his position.

“Hi baby,” he says, wrapping an arm around you. He gives you a kiss and smiles, eyes crinkling just right. “God, I need a shower,” he groans, effectively ruining the moment.

“Way to kill the mood, hotshot.” You say, shoving some cinnamon roll in his mouth and pushing him up the stairs.

“Dinners almost done,”

“I’ll be in here for 15 minutes, tops.” You know it’s a lie, Jake takes his time in the shower, but you don’t really care to call him out. He claims that long showers (and lots of effort) are key to maintaining his good looks, and you don’t care to know what happens if you disagree.

Jake comes back down, his brushed out hair in a wet heap on his head.

“15 minutes tops?” You question teasingly. He grins at you, taking a seat at the table. “What can I say, I’m just the best.”

“Definitely.” You go to kiss him again, and he gladly accepts the gesture. Dinner is good, but what he really wants is some more of that delicious cinnamon roll.

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #top gun drabble #top gun maverick drabble #fluff #constructive critism welcome #swirly writes #swirly anon

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kpforpresident · 2 years

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What if they bonded over a snack then fell in love in like 30 minutes

A baby clexa au because this is the only world i can possibly imagine this happening in

///

Clarke wipes a small, dirt-crusted hand across the knees of her overalls as she waits, blinking into the bright sunshine that beats down on her french braids. Once neat and lovingly tied with blue ribbons when she boarded the bus this morning, they were now messy from a morning of running around in class, the wind playing with the baby-fine blonde wisps that had fought their way out of the careful plaiting. Tiny velcro shoes tapped impatiently against the crumbling asphalt, the sound of laughing school children floating through the air as Clarke craned her head back to watch the birds flap flap flapping their wings away, a tiny black v in the blue sky.

Mummy said that they flew away from the cold, heading south (where Nana and Poppa lived) because they didn’t like the cold. Dad tapped Clarke’s nose when she said that, mentioning that Mummy would like to fly with them somewhere warm. Mommy dried her hands on a dishtowel, responding with an eye roll that Daddy wouldn’t know a beach vacation if it bit him in the rhymes-with-grass.

Whatever that meant.

Heavy breathing popped up next to Clarke’s ear as she whipped her head down, her gaze meeting bright green eyes. Lexa impatiently shoving away her sweaty bangs as she plopped triumphantly next to Clarke, waving her prize in the air, the crinkle of thin plastic making tiny ears perk up.

“Anya said I could have hers,” Lexa whispered gleefully as she held the extra dessert aloft. In the distance a lanky fourth grader watched the two kindergarteners with a small smile before going back to playing tetherball with her friends, always keeping an eye on the duo.

Keeping an watch out for the recess monitor Mr. Pike, Clarke waved impatient pudgy fingers in the air as Lexa danced around her best friend, tiny green corduroy pants cuffed neatly, black top somehow spotless despite their morning of making paper maché bowls around deflating balloons. Clarke’s white t-shirt was coated in glue beneath her jean overall straps, a small amount of purple also stuck to a flushed cheek.

Lexa squeezes into the swing next to Clarke, giggling as Clarke balances a careful arm around a petite frame.

“You got it,” Clarke whispers with awe, eyes glued to the small brownie studded with bright colored candies. Lexa nods in affirmative as tiny hands scrabble to pull open the wrapper. Unable to master it, she hands it over to Clarke with a pout. Clarke unwraps her hand from around Lexa without complaint, pulling the tab and happily handing the prize back to the victor.

Lexa’s smile splits her freckled face as she carefully splits the brownie in half, handing half to Clarke. They two eat in content silence for a moment, Clarke licking frosting off her fingers as Lexa savors hers.

Clarke lands a sticky kiss on Lexa’s cheek, the recipient flushing crimson as she places a revenant hand on the place where clumsy lips met skin.

“Thanks, Lexa,” Clarke breathes as she leans a content head against a bony shoulder. Lexa merely nudges her head against Clarke’s, both stacked in the worn swing, gangly limbs entangled so it was hard to tell where one girl started and the other ended.

Sixth grade science teacher Raven stood with Octavia, both biting back smiles as they watched the two girls fondly.

“I can’t separate them,” Octavia sighed in mild frustration, the tugging of her lips giving away her true feelings. “They’re glued at the damn hip.”

Raven raised her coffee to her lips, speaking into the metal rim as she nudged the kindergarten teacher playfully.

“We were the exact same way, O. Now we’ve been dating for six years. Who knows where they will end up?”

Octavia raised her eyes as she watched the pair, Clarke now pushing Lexa on the swing as she squealed with laughter with every push.

“I have no idea where they’ll be when they’re our age, Rae. But I bet you a hundred dollars that they’re together.”

The two women smiled quietly as they stood side by side, the beautiful fall day sparkling around them.

#anon prompts #kpprompts #i have never had o and raven date because i am team Ranya #but it didn't work in this fic so here ya go #baby clexa #clexa

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