#we’re all gonna be lost in the sauce together

[turnipoddity]

your art made me decide to watch saw and I am now writing fanfic about Adam and Lawrence thank you for what might possibly be a new hyper fixation of mine

WE GOT ANOTHER ONEE

#oh i’m so glad i can help yall find new things to obsess about AKDHSKDJKDFK #we’re all gonna be lost in the sauce together #saw #asks #chainshipping

[kitten4sannie]

𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔡

pairing: san x fem! reader x mingi

genre: smut 

summary: minsan fuck you within an inch of your life <3

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: dom! minsan, sub! reader, san’s a meanie, mingi’s kinda a meanie but mainly a baby boy, himbo energy, threesome, somewhat heavy focus on mxm, spit roasting, spanking, face fucking, degradation, praise, name calling, kissing, facial, cum eating, snowballing, sloppy seconds, overstim, squirting, fingering, anal fingering (m receiving), masturbation, bulge kink, breeding kink, cum inflation (for a split second), creampies 

a/n: this was a request i got by a lovely anon <3 the concept of getting absolutely ruined by minsan is so goddamn hot,, i got really lost in the sauce this time around and i’m proud to say that this is actually just unapologetic filth and nothing else so i hope you enjoy~~

Masterlist

“Hey, be a little more gentle with her, San. She’s gonna break before I get a turn,” Mingi whined with a pout, releasing the grip he had on your hair to reach across your body and run his fingers along the section of your ass that still sported San’s sizable handprint, forcing his cock further into your throat, beads of saliva and pre-cum dribbling down your bulging neck and onto the already stained sheets below.

Positioned on the opposite side of Mingi with his cock drilling into your needy hole, San rolled his eyes, slamming both hands against your ass, his fingers sinking into your stinging skin and spreading it open slightly to watch his slick cock continuously get swallowed up by your hole. “You love it, don’t you, pretty slut?”

A muffled, though enthusiastic ‘mm-hmm’ left your occupied mouth.

“See, look. She wants me to break her, Min.” San hunched forward over your body, reaching for your jaw and holding it steady as Mingi continued to thrust more than half of his over-sized length into the small opening of your throat, feeling his fingers begin to grow wet with your spit. You felt his warm breath on your back and could practically hear his shit-eating smirk, not knowing his eyes were still on Mingi, simply because he couldn’t bring himself to stop watching him wreck your throat.  “Just look at her drooling all over herself like a brainless whore. She loves to get stuffed with cock, Min, that’s why we’re here,” San chimed, hoping he was educating his glossy-eyed, panting friend, giving him a crooked smile. 

“You’re–shit–right, San,” Mingi huffed out, sweat dripping past his choppy dyed hair and off of his sharp jaw, as he hunched over your body as well and reached out, gripping both sides of your ass. He spread you open further so that San could slide in and out even easier, forcing your back to arch painfully from the way you were sandwiched between them. 

San and Mingi found themselves in a similar position before, face to face, both balls-deep in a toy they preferred to share together, cocks throbbing away as they gazed at each other’s flushed, pleasure-struck faces, unable to ignore the presence of one another’s plush lips.

“Min, lemme taste you,” San mumbled, his hand moving from your jaw to your neck to clutch it, simply to feel the heaviness of his friend’s cock against his fingers as it slipped in and out of your throat. Your gurgled noises of approval and shiny, slicked-up cunt went unnoticed once San and Mingi’s lips collided, each getting a fair share of one another’s spit, their tongues eagerly licking into each other’s groaning mouths.

When Mingi was done exploring San’s open mouth, San took the lead and sucked his friend’s larger tongue into his own mouth, his flushed cheeks hallowing slightly. When he heard a whimper, San opened his eyes to witness Mingi’s big brown eyes looking right back at him. Swallowing their combined saliva down with a gulp, San let go of your throat to grab Mingi’s chin, one hand still cemented on your hip, making sure he didn’t miss a single beat when it came to drilling himself into your sopping wet hole. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, MinMin? Huh? Are you gonna spill your load inside her tiny throat and make a big mess?” he asked in a patronizing tone, his ego growing in size when Mingi whimpered more and nodded his head quickly, a bit a drool falling from his lips. San’s dark eyes sharpened, the sides of his lips curling into a salacious smile. “Then fucking do it.”

“Okay, m’ gonna fill her fuckhole with my cum, Sannie,” Mingi exhaled delightedly, reaching down and gripping the sides of your head, suddenly pistoning his oversized length into your throat, making you gurgle and choke on it, tears spilling down your heated cheeks.

San nodded his head in agreement, wrapping his fingers around your waist so firmly, his nails left indents. “Yeah, you are. Fill her slutty little throat.” Feeling you clench tightly around him, San groaned gutturally, his eyes just about rolling into his skull, responding by jackhammering himself into your dripping cunt as quickly as he could, the sounds of your muffled cries almost louder than the lewd sound of his balls smacking against your slick skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re about to cum all over my cock just from being our own personal fuckdoll, huh?” 

A strained, muffled sound of approval exited your throat, only able to take being pounded into from both sides once more, before the dam inside you broke. Your body shuddered and your limbs almost gave out underneath you, completely zoning out from the bliss until Mingi’s cockhead slapped down onto your cheek, hot spurts of white splattering out onto your face. This was followed by something hot and sticky painting your inner walls, some of it leaking out past San’s softening length. “Fuck,” was all you could choke out, your voice a bit scratchy and deep after the abuse your throat took. 

San smiled to himself, gently rubbing your hips in soothing circles, his lower half still flush to yours. “I would pull out, but I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to knock you up, baby.” 

Turning your head back to look up at San, you licked at your lips, tasting the saltiness of Mingi’s load on your tongue. “Good.” 

San beamed at your reaction, his cock starting to harden inside you, wanting to degrade you but choosing to focus on the cum that Mingi left dripping down your flushed face. “What a messy girl. You should clean yourself up.” He slid in and out of you a bit, just to feel and listen to the filthy squelching sounds, before slowly pulling out and sitting on the mattress. 

Shuddering from the sensation of cum leaking out of you, you got up and sat back down on your knees, looking back and forth between the men, gathering up some of the lukewarm liquid on your face with two fingers. You began to suck and lick at them, moaning softly, beckoning the both of them closer once your other hand slipped in between your thighs to play with yourself. 

Slipping his hand around your waist, Mingi leaned in, running his hot tongue up the side of your cheek, collecting some of the milkiness for himself. “You’re so naughty, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his other hand clasping around one of your tits to squeeze and knead it, licking along your jawline. 

San was not far behind him, his mouth already attached to your neck to suck and lick at it, two of his thick fingers pushing into you and curling up to rub at your sensitive spot. The squeaking sound that escaped your lips made him smile against your skin, slowly kissing upwards until he got to your cheek, swiping his tiny tongue across your jaw to taste Mingi for himself. He grunted, looking over to his friend, still shoving his digits in and out of you, your juices accompanying the cum dripping down his wrist. “You need to drink more water, idiot.” 

“Huh?” Mingi mumbled absentmindedly, staring dumbly at San, remembering to grab your other tit to knead it as well, pinching your nipple between two fingers. “Something wrong with my cum?” 

“It tastes bad, you big dummy,” San hissed, removing his fingers from your cunt just as your pleasure began to crescendo, holding up his shiny, cum-coated fingers near all three of your faces. “Lick. This is what it’s supposed to taste like.” 

You pouted along with Mingi, for different reasons, licking between San’s pointer and middle finger, Mingi’s tongue joining yours to lap up the dripping cum. Before you knew it, you were passing the remaining liquid into Mingi’s open mouth using your tongue, spreading your legs open wider when his hand left your chest to cup your pussy, his palm rubbing eagerly against your swollen clit. 

San pushed his fingers in between the both of your moving mouths, his cock twitching painfully into his chiseled abdomen, barely able to take watching the both of your swap spit in such a fervent manner. Groaning, he grabbed Mingi’s shoulder and squeezed it, encouraging him to pull away and look at him with barely open eyes. 

“What is it, San?” he asked softly, licking at any remnants of cum and saliva that was left on his lips. 

“I need you to stuff her with your cock, Min.” He ran a hand through Mingi’s sweaty hair, smiling. “For me.” 

Mingi smiled back at San, his cock pulsing against your thigh. “Anything for you, bro.” 

-

Mingi had you in his lap on the edge of the bed, your back sticking against his heated bare chest, his large hands squeezing into your open thighs, his cock hitting your sweet spot relentlessly, so much so that your cum sprayed out of your pulsing cunt. It felt so goddamn good you were convinced that the stimulation was going to break your mind. It didn’t help that San was on his knees in between Mingi’s thighs, his fingers cupping his friend’s swollen balls and his mouth open to catch your squirt on his small pink tongue, his face soaked with your release. 

“That’s a good girl, do it again,” San praised, bringing his fingers up to rub them rapidly across your clit, pressing them harder into your bud when your hips tried to move away from his touch, not stopping until more clear liquid shot out of you and coated his already dripping tongue. “Fuck, that’s a good slut.” 

“No more,” you croaked out, your lower half so numb, you’d probably fold like a rag doll if Mingi wasn’t holding you in place. “I-i can’t!” 

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Mingi encouraged breathily, his deep voice penetrating your ears along with his heavy pants, sending a jolt of arousal into your core. He suddenly shuddered, emitting a surprisingly whiny moan upon feeling San’s tongue drag up his perineum to his sensitive balls, encouraging him to buck up into you to chase his high. 

San ran his palms up Mingi’s large thighs, squeezing into them the way Mingi was gripping yours, his thumbs teasing his friend’s puckering hole. Smirking at the sound of Mingi’s soft whimpering, San slipped a finger inside, feeling Mingi slowly begin to grind against it on his own.

Mingi’s jaw hung open, too consumed with lust to notice another finger sliding into him until he felt a sudden, powerful crackle of pleasure erupt from within his core. “Oh, fuck, that’s it, right there, right there,”  Mingi groaned, almost growling his words out, digging his fingers into your bruising skin and slamming himself into you even rapidly than before, sending you into a state of euphoria. 

San stroked himself vigorously, the muscles in his upper and lower arms straining so hard the veins bulged out, a bit of sweat sliding along his smirking face. “Oh, yeah? Does it feel that good, Min? Are you gonna cum in our plaything’s tight little cunt again?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah–” Mingi could hardly speak, his body and mind completely overloaded with pleasure, to the point that tears began to form inside his hazy eyes, so close that he couldn’t possibly control the whines and whimpers that were joining your own, the both of your bodies unconsciously moving in tandem so that you could reach your highs together. 

San took delight in the visual of his friend and fucktoy completely falling apart in front of him, his fist squeezing around his cockhead, pre-cum spilling out, the slick allowing him to pleasure himself as fast as possible.“Fuck–Pump…her full…nnngh…of your cum, Min. Please, just make her nice and full for me,” San practically begged, so close to his own high that he didn’t care how desperate he sounded. 

“Cumming, I’m cumminggg,” Mingi moaned whinily, slack jawed, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, letting go of one of your thighs to press his hand down against your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of his cock, swearing he felt your tummy bulge out ever so slightly the longer he drained his seemingly endless cumshot into your cunt. 

You couldn’t even begin to form words, your orgasm doing the talking for you, letting out a few small, stunted moans, your entire body seizing up, spilling your release all over Mingi’s lap. You were so gone, you hardly noticed San suddenly standing up in front of the both of you, whispering something dirty and slapping his cock down onto your used pussy, his load spurting out and coating your mound, mixing with Mingi’s load, as it was already seeping out of you and down your ass. 

“Pull out now, Min,” San commanded softly, watching Mingi slowly slide his cock out with a small squelch, lowering himself back down to the floor to get a close up view of the absolute mess that was pouring out of your used hole, his thumbs spreading you apart. You were stretched wide and filled up with so much cum, San was ready to shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. A moment of silence, mixed with quiet pants and sighs went by, before San came up with a brilliant plan. “Should we stuff her hole together?” 

Wiping some sweat away from his forehead, Mingi tilted his head to the side, perking up, as though he were intrigued. “Like cock to cock?” 

San licked at his lips, tasting you on them. “Yup.” 

Mingi mirrored him, licking at his plush lips as well, eventually sighing to himself. “Double stuffed…”

San nodded, chuckling. “That’s right.” 

Once he exchanged a sleazy look with his friend, Mingi slowly looked down at you, his gaze darkening.

“Yummy.” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez #ateez smut #san #ateez san #san smut #san x reader #ateez x reader #mingi #mingi ateez #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez oneshot

[neopuppy]

“What’d you do today?”

Haechan blinks a few times, tilting his head to one side in deep thought.

Woke up. Jerked off in bed.

Ate breakfast. 

Took a shower. Jerked off in the shower.

Got dressed. Logged on to play League. Took a break and jerked off.

Opened twitter and jerked off again.

Jaemin clears his throat, chomping on a piece of celery. “Dude? Are you listening?”

“Uh yeah, nothing man, gamed and shit.”

“Gooned all day as usual, didn’t you?”

Renjun shrugs, nudging Haechan’s shoulder. “I’m at six today so far.”

“Pretty sure Jeno was emptying his shit while we watched the new Batman last night.” Jaemin says annoyed.

“Dude, I told you I was tired!” Jeno explains, stealing a wing from his plate. “You wanted to watch that stupid movie so bad.”

“You guys act like we don’t all live together and jerk off around each other all of the time.” Renjun shrugs. “At this point I’d recognize Haechan by his dick alone.”

“Dude for real?” Haechan looks at him stunned, hand placed over his heart. “That’s so cute.”

“Of course man, that birthmark on your upper thigh is hard to forget.” 

“I’ll have to get a better look at yours next time. I could probably only recognize Jeno’s.” Haechan mumbles that last part, clearing his throat and returning attention back to his food.

“Yeah, we know why.” Jaemin sneers, throwing a wing bone at him. “Just say you want him to fuck you.”

“I’m not opposed to it.” He shrugs, lifting an eyebrow at Jeno’s lost expression with his tongue shoved between a now cleaned off wing.

“Dude.” Jeno grimaces, side-eyeing his friend. “You know, none of us would ever survive no nut November. We’d end up fucking each other if pussy didn’t exist.”

“No nut November is a bunch of bullshit anyway. Life is too short for anything other than gooning.” Renjun nods, high-fiving Jaemin across the table. 

“Exactly! If anything we should be maximizing our gooning.” Jaemin hums, dipping a carrot in ranch. “Goonmaxxing..”

“That sounds ridiculous.” Haechan shakes his head, slapping the table. “Where do I sign up?”

“What the fuck is goonmaxxing..” Jeno questions, sucking his fingers clean of sauce. 

“Jeno, if you keep doing that I’m seriously gonna have to fuck you.” Haechan smirks, making his friend stop with a look of disgust. “Anyway, allow me to explain for my friends who were dropped on their heads too early in life.”

“Hey, I was dropped on my head?!” Jeno repeats, confused.

“Give it a minute.” Jaemin nods.

“Wait, fuck you man.” Jeno glares at Haechan, shucking one of his dirty napkins at him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He smiles, biting on the used napkin, earning a collective round of groans from his friends. “Listen guys, we already either spend most of our time beating our meat or spending hours buried deep inside a warm wet hole.”

“Sometimes an entire day.” Jaemin raises his eyebrows cockily. 

“Sure, anyway.” Haechan continues. “No nut November’s for idiot incels, we’re better than that. We already goon like it's a sport, why don’t we do our own version? Instead of not getting off, we compete to get off more than each other. We fuck fleshlights, we fuck pussy, shit you put a good enough looking cake in front of me and I might even fuck that.”

“What’s the point of competing?” Renjun scoffs, silenced by Jaemin’s thick hand landing down on the center of the table on top of a hundred dollar bill. 

“Whoever can’t get the most nut each day adds a bill to the pool. After a month we’ll tally up who had the most wins and one of us gets a fat prize.” He grins ear to ear, tapping the $100. “Starting today we all contribute a Benjamin to sweeten the pot.”

“So let me get this straight..” Jeno leans back, rubbing his chin. “We’re going to have a month long gooning competition?”

Haechan claps excitedly, bouncing in his chair. “Good boy! You got that so fast!”

“You know what,” Jeno grits at his friend, reaching for his wallet. “I’m in, you losers have nothing on my dick game.”

Haechan shrugs, he can’t disagree with that. “Fine, but the thing about fucking real pussy is- you jerk off a lot less when you can have the real thing. Count me in too, because if there’s anything I know I can do like a pro, it’s kill an entire day with my hand wrapped around my dick.” Confidently, he whips out a hundred to add to the pile. 

Three sets of eyes land on Renjun who sits leaned forward with his elbows on the table, biting on his thumb nail. “I don’t know about this guys. Like yes, it’s a normal everyday habit but I have a lot of exams coming up in the next few weeks to focus on..”

“And what better way to relieve your stress buddy?!” Haechan rumbles, wrapping around his shoulders to shake him around. “Come on man! If you win, think of the money!”

“We’ll even get a little trophy with a little plaque.” Jaemin laughs. “King of the goons!”

“Yeah come onnnn.” Jeno pipes in, tapping a finger on the pile of bills. “Do it!”

The three begin to mimic each other, chanting ‘Do it! Do it! Do it!’ In unison until he shakes off Haechan and throws up his arms. “Fine fine! Jesus,” he curses, sliding a hand into his front pocket in search of his wallet. “Guess I’m in.”

Jaemin slaps the table, standing up in the thankfully mostly empty restaurant they frequent. “It’s official. Starting tomorrow we enter our month of Goonmaxxing. The only goal: goon or die.”

“Goon or die!” Haechan repeats, lifting up his half-empty cup of diet Coke.

Renjun frowns, slouching back in his seat as his three idiotic best friends begin to type out rules on the notes app. 

Sure, no nut November would never work for them considering how often he’s walked in on each of them jerking off ever since they moved in together last semester, but something about feeling obligated to get off with a goal in mind didn’t sound very smart either. 

“You guys are so fucked, pretty sure I jerked off about 10 times the other day.” Jeno chuckles, rubbing his hands together. “That money's mine.”

“Don’t be too confident there Mr. Worldwide.” Jaemin wiggles a finger at him. “Besides, I’ve only nutted a few times today. I should be ready to drop loads all day tomorrow.”

“Interesting.” Haechan sits up, quickly pulling out a twenty to cover his meal and tip. “Gotta blast.”

#WIP #00z I AM READY WHENEVER U ARE #DROP. THAT. NEW. PHOTO.!!!!!!!!!!! #another legendary nct dream ‘00 line fic in the making……😄 #🫲👹🫱

[lovebugism]

would it be okay to ask punchy x steve babysitting the kids for an afternoon? love the trope so much!

ty for requesting anon :D i love writing for punchy and steve sm!! — steve struggles to manage a date with you while babysitting, but you take it all in stride (established relationship, fluff!, tw for mentions of minor injuries, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You’re a messy eater just like Eddie’s a messy eater.

You get crumbs everywhere and smear everything all over your chin. You never notice that sauce is dripping out of the backs of your burgers until mustard plops into your lap, leaving a faint yellow stain on your black ripped jeans that you’ll never quite get out. 

You’re a tornado in the kitchen, a hurricane in restaurants — leaving messes you’ll inevitably clean up before you go because you refuse to be a burden with your chaos.

But your messiness is much more poetic than Eddie’s messiness. You’re wild and ravenous, gentle and violent. You’re a purple thunderstorm made of flesh. Everything you do feels magical.

It’s why Steve doesn’t care when you get bread crumbs all over his flannel that you stole. It’s why he smiles when you get peanut butter on your chin from a too big bite of the PB&J he made you (he cut off the crust and everything).

With your cheeks puffed like a chipmunk’s, Steve reaches across the quilt you sit on and swipes the cream from your chin. He licks it off the pad of his thumb a second later.

“Ew,” you giggle as you chew through the mouthful.

Steve smiles at the heavenly sound. It almost distracts him from the racket of the bustling park and the roughhousing teenagers behind him. Almost.

“You’re so pretty,” he observes quietly with a lopsidedly fond smile on his rosy mouth. No one should be looked at so softly, especially not when they look as messy as you do now.

“You’re disgusting,” you retort, muffled through the food in your mouth until you swallow it down.

Steve’s grin widens. “I know.”

He leans in again, this time to kiss you.

His deep cologne and floral hairspray pervade the grey autumn around you. His lips are pink and softly parted, pretty enough to melt in. 

It defies every human instinct to pull away from him.

“Kids are watching, Stevie,” you remind in a gentle murmur. 

Your eyes flit past him to Max, Lucas, and Dustin. They stand together on the concrete, watching the redheaded girl flip on her skateboard. She does a cool trick — a kick and a twist that looks too easy when she does it — and they applaud her with all their obnoxious boyishness. She pretends to be annoyed, but you can tell from here that she’s blushing.

Steve loses all his softness with a deep, annoyed huff. 

He gets so lost in you that he keeps forgetting they’re even there at all — totally ruining the picnic date he’d planned for you weeks ago.

A laugh tumbles from your mouth at your grumpy boy and his subtle pout. “You invited them, you know?”

“Not by choice,” he grouses, annoyed and unkissed.

He can say that all he wants, but it was sort of by choice. He didn’t have to answer when Dustin called him right before he left to pick you up. He didn’t have to say yes when the boy begged to be picked up with the rest of his friends — ‘cause his dad was back in town and Billy was being particularly dickish to the Mayfield-Sinclair duo.

But he did. Because he can’t ever say no to them. 

It’s in his blood to defend them now. Like he’s always been destined to protect a bunch of fourteen-year-old nerds. 

Steve glances over his shoulder with an attentive squint in his honey eyes. His heart drops when he sees Dustin shakingly balancing on Max’s skateboard. 

Lucas holds his arm to keep the curly-haired boy from toppling over. The redhead stands off the side with her arms crossed, visibly unamused but not intervening either way.

“Okay, if you idiots are gonna skateboard, can you at least put on knee pads or something?” he calls to the three of them. The boys, mostly.

Lucas scoffs out a laugh. “You think we’re just walking around carrying kneepads, Steve?”

The brunette rolls his eyes with a sigh only an annoyed older sibling could muster. The disgruntled scrunch on his face ebbs when he turns to you — the cure to all his problems.

“Just ignore them,” he assures with a tightlipped smile. “Pretend they aren’t here.”

You nod, lifting your hand to push a couple of rouge strands over his forehead. The cinnamon tresses feel like silk between your fingers. You smile when the tendrils flop back into place the second your hand is gone.

“Okay,” you tell him, knowing he’ll have a much harder time ignoring them than you will.

—————

Steve’s flannel is thick and warm, smelling of deep musk and the jelly you accidentally dripped on the collar. 

You got all flustered about it — promised him you’ll handwash it later while rubbing at the stain with a napkin, spreading it and making the whole thing worse. 

You do that a lot. You should probably be used to it now.

Steve kisses you anyway. He presses a big, smacking kiss to your rambling lips — uncaring of the teenagers standing some feet away who are bound to make fun of him for being so sweet on you. He doesn’t really care. He gets made fun of anyway, and he’s far too proud to love you.

A crooked smile tugs slow at his lips when he pulls away. Something warm and light swirls in his chest at the shocked, doe-eyed look on your face.

“God, I love you,” he mutters with a soft shake of his head, like his own adoration for you is profound to him.

You didn’t think you could be loved for your chaos. Not until now, anyway.

He cradles you against his chest with his arms around your front, pressing you and all your entropy to his heart. Sat between his legs and the cool autumn air, you curl into him like a cat — wrapping your hands around the wrists he clasps in front of you.

His exhale is warm against your shoulder when he presses his lips over the flannel in a lingering kiss. 

Your face scrunches as you shrug. Not because you didn’t like it, but because the feeling made your skin feel all sparkly, and you didn’t know how else to react.

Steve knows this. He pulls away and smiles at your profile. “Is this as weird as you thought it would be?”

Being openly affectionate in front of all the kids, he doesn’t say. Being Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington’s girlfriend in front of the rest of the world.

You decided to tell his friends that you were dating at summer’s end after several months of agonizing about the whole thing. Well, the friends who didn’t know anyway, ‘cause neither of you can get anything past Eddie and Robin.

Max — whom you felt the strange need to impress most for some reason — responded with a simple and mumbled “Cool.” Steve had been the most concerned about telling Dustin, though; said the boy never does well with not being told things.

The curly-haired boy’s reply was a terribly deadpanned, “How the hell did you manage to pull that off?” at Steve.

No one particularly cared. No one treated you any different, though they made fun of Steve a whole lot more than they used to. 

“It is weird!” he’d told you that summer night after you snuck away for a smoke break. “That’s what makes it so cool!” He was right. About all of it.

You shake your head as an answer to his question. “No. Not really. They’re all super nice.”

“Yeah,” Steve scoffs. “To you.”

You smile as you turn your head, tilting your chin to look up at his stubbly profile. “Well, you’re like their older brother. They annoy you because they love you.”

“No, they annoy me ‘cause they’re annoying,” the boy grouses, then cuts himself off to shout at the kids some feet away. Lucas is gliding on Max’s skateboard now, with all the finesse of a baby deer just learning to walk. The sight irks his babysitting senses. “Hey! Be careful on that thing! You guys literally have no clue what you’re doing!”

“Speak for yourself!” Lucas shouts back, then almost loses his balance. 

Dustin laughs in response, loud and high-pitched.

Steve turns to you with a tightlipped expression and wide eyes, motioning to the kids with his palm. “See? See what I mean?”

“They love you,” you answer fondly.

“Also, I’m not their brother, alright? I’m the babysitter. That’s totally different.”

You perk up at that. 

He never liked admitting to being an unofficial babysitter. 

You don’t think he ever has before now. 

“Well, babysitters get paid,” you remind him with a scrunched nose and glittering gaze. “And you’re just watching them ‘cause you love them, so…”

Steve’s face goes flat as he thinks on your words. 

You’re right. Because you’re always right. 

The realization makes him sigh.

A gasp sounds from the distance, floating on the wind. A gutwrenching clattering noise follows quickly after — chipped wood on hard pavement. A low groan of pain comes seconds later.

You and Steve look to the side quick enough to get whiplash. Max and Dustin stand on either side of Lucas, who’s now sitting on the sidewalk and clutching his knee with his face screwed with agony. 

The brunette boy reacts immediately. “Fuck. I knew it,” he mumbles, urging you to sit up with a gentle palm to your shoulder so he can stand. He abandons the picnic he set up and rushes to the ailing boy’s side. You follow quickly behind him.

“Are you okay? Did you break anything?” Steve blurts in one breath with his hands on his hips. His eyes are wide as they dart over Lucas’ form, looking for any other injuries besides the one he cups with his hand.

“No,” the boy answers with gritted teeth. “Just fucked up my knee…”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Lucas forgets his pain for a moment, just to give Steve a dumbfounded stare. “What? No. It’s just a scrape, dude.”

Steve nods, pleased and smirking, as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Good. ‘Cause know I get to say I told you so.”

All three kids roll their eyes at that, accompanied by a chorus of groans.

You dig into the bag hanging on your shoulder, fingers ciphering blindly through miscellaneous junk for the mini first aid kit you always keep inside. You’re the clumsiest person you’ve ever met. It’s sorta compulsory at this point.

You pull out a bandaid and crouch at Lucas’s side, dropping your purse to the pavement. “Can I see?” you ask him.

Silently, he pulls his hand away. The scrape on his knee is gnarly looking — pink and bright red — but it’s just barely bleeding. He hisses through his teeth when you spread the bandage across it, using the gentlest touch you didn’t think you could muster.

“Clean it out when you get home, ‘kay? So it won’t get infected or whatever,” you tell him as you dab at the pale-colored plaster with your fingertips. “Then put another bandage on, and you’ll be good as new.”

Lucas shoots you a small smile, shy and grateful. “Thanks, Punchy,” he mumbles as Dustin and Max help him stand again.

“No worries—”

“And everyone stay off the skateboard, alright?” Steve commands from behind you when you rise to full height again. “Don’t make Punchy clean up any more scrapes. She doesn’t even like you guys that much.”

“That’s not true,” you retort with a snorted laugh.

There’s a silence and a bright blue glare from the redhead beside Lucas.

Steve caves with a sigh. “Everyone stay off the skateboard except the girl who actually knows what she’s doing.”

Max smiles in a Max sort of way. The expression barely hints at her lips. It mostly resides in her sparkling ocean eyes.

The three of them saunter off again, totally unfazed, with the sort of resilience you only have when you’re a teenager.

“Little shits,” Steve mumbles, shaking his head.

You nudge him with your shoulder, still smiling. “Be nice.”

He tries to keep his grumpy disposition when he looks down at you. He quickly finds that it’s virtually impossible. He looks at you and he’s smiling before he even realizes it.

“You’re really good with them, you know?” he observes, fond and honeyed again.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re so good with them,” you retort with another nudge to his shoulder, utterly unable to take any compliment ever given to you. “I learned all my babysitting techniques from Indiana’s best, Stevie.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” he grins and leans down to kiss you.

You try to kiss him back. It’s hard when you’re smiling so wide.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve x punchy #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[charliehoennam]

home again.

A/N: request made here by @juniebugg and a nonny made here so i decided to mash these two together

Pairing: John Kinley x F!reader

Warnings: Language and smut. No minors, please!

Word count: 2,675

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

The dusty gravel of your driveway crunched under the tires of Declan’s truck. You didn’t need to look out the window to know who it was, but you wanted to see him. Make sure he’s alright.

You’d refused to pick John up at the military base. You didn’t want to be anywhere near it. It’d been months since he’d been away and you hated every single second he was gone.

You missed him more than anything in the world. Deep inside, you were thrilled he was finally home and, most importantly, safe. Part of you wanted to race out the door and throw yourself in his arms. The other part, however, wanted to slap him across the face.

Months of his absence – provided only via letters and shitty connections through phone calls or video chats that could never replace his presence – drove you insane.

The only thing that was worse was zero contact. Not knowing if he was dead or alive; that every car that drove by the house would deliver that dreaded folded flag. Sometimes, you questioned why he would want to be in the army in the first place, fighting a war that he has no fault in. How could he just leave you?

You’d thought it would get easier to live with after you got married. Turned out, it wasn’t.

John called out for you and spotted you by the window where he’d caught you staring out of just before you moved away to hide. He read your resistance right off the bat.

“Hey, honey” he smiled as he set his army green bag on the floor in the hallway. “Don’t I get a kiss huh?”He tried to joke to loosen you up.

There was definitely tension in the air that he’d detected even before walking in, but he wanted to avoid conflict on his first day home. He’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him; there was no doubt the distance was hard on both sides. Yet you felt he was to blame since it was his choice to reenlist. You were there. You’d always be there.

You pulled away as he tried to pull you into his arms and marched back into the kitchen where you’d been making his favorite: Fettucine alfredo with crispy bits of Italian sausage. 

“Something smells real good.” His attempts were getting nowhere. “Come on, baby. Is this how it’s gonna be every time I come home?”

“You could just stay home.” You shrugged as you continued stirring the pot of white sauce before dipping a spoon to taste-test the flavor.

“We’re really gonna do this? Again?” He scoffed running a hand over his tired face.

“Do you really expect me to be all bright smiles when you were literally gone for 9 months in the middle of God knows where? After 11 days of sheer silence, I just found 6 days ago that you weren’t dead, John.”

“I thought that would be something to be happy about.” His brows furrowed.

“I am happy you’re alive, John. But I did also spend 11 days thinking you might have been dead!”

“That wasn’t my fault! We got ambushed by an IED in the middle of nowhere. We lost the RV and had to trek through the goddamn desert. You think I wanted that happen?!”

“Then you shouldn’t have relisted! I just don’t get it! Why would you want to go back to that?!”

“You don’t have to get anything! You’re acting like this is all new to you! You knew I was in the Army before, that it wouldn’t change when we got married!”

“Maybe I’d hope it would! So crucify me for thinking that maybe my husband would want to actually be home with me after getting married!” 

Your argument only escalated after that. John was angry and you were furious. A blur of loud voices, searing tears and fists pounding on walls and countertops. At some point, he had decided to blow off some steam and slammed the front door shut as he left to have a drink at the bar. He didn’t want to get drunk or talk to anybody. He just wanted to get out of there before you’d both said things that couldn’t be taken back.

Sat on a tall stool with a beer bottle cradled in his hands, he stared into nothingness wanting to forget everything. However, his mind found itself returning to you. To your scent that lingered on his clothes after his hug. To your warmth against his chest and arms. Fuck, he missed you badly and he hated that he couldn’t fucking forget it.

After pushing himself off the stool, he drove home in silence and cautiously stepped over the threshold. His eyes scanned the house as he made his way in, searching for any indication that could explain your current state. But he found only silence. A daunting calmness in the shadows of the home as the streets casted their lights in attempt to chase the gloom. But when his eyes landed on a pillow stacked upon of a folded-up blanket, he shook his head and ignored your punishment.

That was his limit. The final drop to overflow the flood he’d spent hours trying to contain.

You tossed and turned in bed, wondering if you had gone too far. You reflected on his words. He wasn’t wrong. You knew the Army was important to him going into the relationship. You knew that when you said yes when he asked you to marry him. You knew that when you said “I do” at the altar.

He felt his blood boil again as he marched up the stairs with his pillow under his arm. The door flew up open and he strode into the room, avoiding your bewildered gaze as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You questioned angrily. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“The hell I am. I spent nine months away. I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

You could hear the tinge of impatience in his voice. He sat at the edge of his side on the bed to untie his boots and set them aside with a thud muffled by the carpet.

“You’re not sleeping here, John.”

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m sleeping right here.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“Oh, I am huh? How about you? You’re the one that’s acting like a fucking child.”

You sat up in disbelief, ready for round two of your argument.

“Just don’t. I’m tired and I wanna sleep.” He stated as he laid back against his pillow, back turned to you.

“You think it’s fucking easy? You think it’s easy having you miles away, with no notice if you’re even alive? I thought you were dead, John!”

He was ready to snap back with his defense, but the tears building in your eyes warned him not to. Instead, his jaw clenched as he held his gaze on you.

“I spent night crying my fucking eyes out thinking you weren’t coming home this time! Just to get up the next day and pretend like everything was alright! Do you know how emotionally exhausting this has been for me?!”

He hadn’t thought about that. Guilt settled in his chest and started to build in his throat as he listened to your rant, which soon brought you to sob.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m home…” he whispered pulling you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you.

Any resistance you had melted away against his warmth. You gave in and buried your face into his neck.

“I’m home. I’m with you and everything’s alright. Everything’s alright now.” he repeated as he soothed you with gentle kisses on the crown of your head. His palm rubbed circles against your back.

Your body was yearning for him. He could tell from the way your nails clung onto his shirt. His fingers lifted your chin to catch your gaze.

“Look at me. I’m right here. I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he whispered with a thumb wiping your tears away.

“I got you, hm?”

Sealing his promise with a kiss, your body softened and accepted his kiss. Then his tongue. You could feel it building in your core. That familiar lust that had haunted you during his absence. That craving that couldn’t be quenched.

Like magnets, your bodies had lost against the invisible pull. His hands slipped down to your thighs, guiding them as you straddled his lap.  The heated kiss was unbroken until your hands tugged at his olive-green shirt to release it from the tuck of his camouflaged pants. You helped him pull it off over his head as he helped you remove the Pink Floyd t-shirt that once belonged to him before becoming your favorite nightgown.

 As your lips collided once again – more feverish than before –, your hands roamed down to unbuckle his belt. The metal clinked as it hit the floor. John wasted no time to lay you down against the mattress. You needed him and there he finally was to take care of you. God, how he’d missed your taste.

He whispered continuous praises as his bushy beard brushed against your delicate skin, peppering kisses down to your breasts. His mouth closed around your hardening nipples, suckling them with eyes closed to relish their fullness and warmth.

“My beautiful wife. Missed you so fucking much.”

His hand kneaded each of them as he squeezed your flesh to his face. He could’ve stayed there forever, but he was eager to please you.

He forced himself up as he stood back on his knees, sat against his heels. His gaze on you was loving as if admiring a sculpture he’d carved from his own dreams. “I love you” fell from his lips over and over again, like a prayer in between the tender kisses he pressed against your legs, lifting them to rest against his broad shoulders. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them up your legs and tosses them to the floor. His eyes locked on yours was more than enough to cause your core to puddle. You could feel the slick building with every kiss.

He wasted no time settling between your thighs, trailing his kisses over your outer labia. This was about making you feel good. Making it sink into your brain that he was finally fucking home.

With your legs bent up over his shoulders, he moaned as he buried his mouth against your plush slick flush. One hand slid up to your breast as the other locked its fingers with your own. You moaned and wiggled against him.

He devoured you and smiled to himself as he watched the way your body arched in pleasure. The salty sweet taste of you liquefied his insides. He could feel him twitching as his cock hardened on the bed. After months of bottling in all his desires and having to satisfy himself with his hand and a photo of you in lingerie, his thirst for you was erupting beyond control. He had to remind himself that this was going to be about you.

His hips began rocking against the bed at the sounds your body was making. He was so eager to fuck you, but he had to contain himself to make it last. Yet his hunger for you had his hips grinding against the mattress, aching for any type of friction he could get as he battled with his self-control. His cock spasmed in his pants with every gentle tug on his hair or scrape of your nails on his scalp.  

With his tongue building up your orgasm, it lapped over your folds and concentrated on the overly sensitive nub. He swiped and swiveled over it; the pressure in your depths grew into hot white pleasure. You weren’t going to last much longer.

The hand on your breast slid down your scorching skin to hold your hips firmly in place as you wriggled, wrestling against the implosion and failing terrible to resist until you finally caved in. Your body trembled as your legs shut on either side of his head. He smiled as he proudly admired your reaction, enjoying how quickly your chest rose and fell. The leaking precum from his dick was beginning to sink through his boxers and pants; he was almost certain he’d left a wet spot on the bedsheet.

He lifted himself off and was unable to wait any longer. He needed to feel you on his cock. Kicking his pants off provided you a moment to regain yourself and admired the way his muscles contracted under his skin. This big burly man was yours, all yours.

As he crawled back between your legs and aligned himself to penetrate, you both watched his head slowly push in through your soaking pussy in burning anticipation lathered with only the spit on his fingertips.

His eyes closed tightly shut as he bottomed out and held himself there for a moment, controlling his own increasing implosion.

You could tell he was struggling a bit between satisfying you both and giving into his own carnal needs. You cradled the sides of his face and gently guided him down to kiss him in an attempt to distract him from the wonderful hug of your cunt on his cock.

With an arm propped on the side of your head, he kissed you hungrily as his hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh and pushed your hips against his. His groin brushing on your swollen nub sent fireworks bursting through your nerves, forcing a shy moan from your throat. He smiled and pulled his head back to look down at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As his lips latched onto your neck, his hips pulled back and slowly thrusted forward to begin his pace. Slow and gentle, but so deliciously full and stretched. You held your breath with every push and pull of his cock, clenching around it to hold him inside. You’d never let him go if you could. His cock in you made you feel so completed like this is where you both were meant to be.

His pace started to quicken. A sheen coat of sweat glazed your bodies in the cool blue light of the moon that rained in from the tall windows of your bedroom. The searing heat had begun to bubble from the inside out, oozing from your desperate desire to feel each other deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed out the open door and into the hallway. His balls slammed against your perineum as your wetness began coating the bedsheet underneath, staining it with remnants of love and lust.

With labored breaths, he hugged you tightly against him with his other arm. It was building up in you for the second time and you could tell it was building in him as well. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your toes curled against his hips. The tight embrace of your pussy as you came again had him frantically hammering into you as praises flooded out from his lips.

“Feel so fucking good for me. I-I fucking love you, baby. L-love you so much.”

Releasing you to lock your fingers together, he shuddered with a deep moan and slowed to a stop. You milked every drop. The hot load filled you with an incomparable warmth in your depths. Your walls were coated in his pearly white seed.

He panted as he held himself in your cunt for a moment longer until he finally pulled out and collapsed beside you. You turned on your side to face him. His hands reached out for you and pulled you into his arms. Perfectly nestled against his hairy chest, you smiled to yourself. His heart beating against your ear was the final reminder that he was home. He was here and he was all yours.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #john kinley x you #john kinley x reader #john kinley x y/n #john kinley the covenant

[dellalyra]

Family Formation - Part Seventeen

Request: yes but I have lost it

CW: pregnancy, doctors, a lil spicy, oral and breeding kink kinda vibe, nothing like crazy

A/N: sorry for the wait I was on a trip to see my familyyyyyy I forget who requested this :):) but someone wanted more about the pregnancy and I needed something light and easy to get back into the swing of things - gonna get maybe 3 parts this week !!!!

Masterlist

After the discovery of your pregnancy, you both waited to tell anyone outside of immediate family for several weeks.

Of course, that was the intention.

But things never go according to plan, do they?

Obviously, as your doctor – Shoko found out first. Well, technically – Gojo was the first, then you, then Shoko. Then Nanami walked in and found out. You obviously couldn’t keep such huge news from Megumi, so you told him after a few days.

“Hey ‘Gumi, can you pass me the syrup?” You say to the boy beside you. It had been Saturday morning tradition to have waffles (the only thing Satoru exceeds at making) for about 7 years by now, you no longer had Tsumiki – but it was still important to gather together, you hoped you could still do it every few weeks once Megumi starts at Jujutsu High in a few months. Today though, you and Satoru had made extra tiny waffles and put out a small plate and a small cup. Megumi, never the best in the morning, had yet not noticed the odd place setting and ill-fitting waffles.

But it didn’t take long.

“Why are the waffles so small?” He sleepily asks Satoru.

“For tiny hands, Megumi! Duh! Silly sausage!” He laughs at him, with a wink at you.

“Gotta gets practicing, good sizing ‘toru.” You say, winking back.

Megumi looks so confused between you both but brushes it off as the fact that both his parents are insane.

He eats another waffle (he’s a growing boy), and watches Satoru pile fudge and syrup on his and you put crushed Oreo’s and white chocolate sauce on yours and then moves to grab the coffee pot, when he sees the tiny plate and tiny cup.

“Are you two trying some Alice in Wonderland shit?” He says, completely aware of the harebrained schemes you both concoct.

“Nah.” Satoru says, shaking his head.

“Just getting used to having a little one at the table is all.” You shrug, as if this is a totally casual thing to say.

Megumi’s face remains uninterested if slightly irked for a few seconds before his eyes widen and jaws drops.

“Wait – mom, are you pregnant?” He asks staring at you.

“Yeah, sweetie.”

“Holy shit.”

“That’s what I said.” Satoru chimes in.

“Are you like – okay?” Asks Megumi and you nearly giggle at his awkwardness.

“A little nauseous and tired, but me and the baby are super healthy. You’ll have a baby sister or brother in 7 months' time.” You lean back in your chair with a hand on your slightly bloated belly.

“It’s definitely a boy! And we’re gonna call him Megumi 2.0.” Satoru chimes in.

“No, we’re not.” Megumi replies – sterner than a 15-year-old should be.

“Okay then how about Satoru Junior?” Suggests your husband.

“No.” You mutter, giggling at your boys.

Silence falls as you laugh.

Megumi is looking at the table, and you worry he is unhappy with the news.

But that’s swiftly assuaged.

“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl - it’s gonna be really cool to have a baby around. I always liked the idea of being a big brother.” He shrugs, still looking at the table but you can see a small smile on his face and you and Satoru exchange smiles because for Megumi, this is the equivalent of jumping up and down in happiness.

You asked Megumi to keep it to himself until you were 3 months, he wasn’t really your concern – Satoru was the issue. He could barely contain himself.

At week 14, you were sitting waiting to hear from Shoko whether the little one was a boy or a girl, Satoru had taken to calling the baby ‘lil’mochi’ and you just about melted every time.

“Gojo, Y/N – I would like to formally introduce you to –” Shoko says as she turns the screen of the ultrasound machine toward you.

“Your son.”

You let out a sob and Satoru let’s put a cheer as you leap and wrap your arms around him.

“We’re gonna have a baby boy, ‘toru! Mochi is a boy!”

“Hi Satoru Junior!” He says pressing kisses all over your tummy.

“No.”

You told the rest of the students by getting them all T-shirts with ‘Gojo Babysitting Gang’ on them, squeals from Nobara and tears from Yuuji and Panda and cheers from Inumaki and Maki rang out across the field that day.

As your belly started to grow, your family became so protective that you never walked across the school alone. Megumi was tentative around you, completely unsure of how to handle and approach you, a pregnant woman, but Satoru was the worst.

He had become insatiable. Even more than usual. The first time you turned sideways, and he noticed your tiny bump underneath your pyjamas he went feral, thighs over his shoulders and you pinned against the walls as he worshiped you like a goddess on his knees.

The bigger the bump got, the worse it got.

“Satoru – you can’t get me any more damn pregnant.” You giggled one day as he wiggled your panties down your legs.

“I’m the strongest, I can do anything Princess. Just look so damn pretty, fuck, look at ya, all round with my baby.”

He had taken to loving having you on top, swollen tits bouncing in his face with every rise of your body. There was just something about every single person knowing that he had done that, you were swollen and glowing and plump with his child – that inside you was his baby.

You of course, weren’t complaining – hormones making everything so sensitive that your husband’s already phenomenal talents were even more valuable to your heightened body.

He was so soft with you too, bathing you when you got to the end of your pregnancy, catering to any craving, he would rub Shea butter into your bump with you laying with your back to his chest every night and then he’d put his hand on your lap so he could talk to the baby as you played with his hair.

You were his world, his princess, and you were making a whole entire human – he thinks you might actually be the strongest.

The nursery you guys had decorated was perfect. Forest green walls, fairy lights and toadstool lamps decorating the room – all the furniture vintage and dark wood and the crib for when the baby was older surrounded by the softest sheets money could buy.

The day you were waiting for wasn’t coming as fast as you wanted. You were two weeks overdue now – it was June, it was hot, it was humid and you were getting miserable. You were heavy and sweaty and tired and this damn baby was as stubborn as it’s father. You had taken maternity leave from teaching at the school a month ago but you still somehow ended up there daily. Today, loose flowing maternity dress decorated with strawberries swaying around you, you carried a basket of goodies toward the training field where you knew your husband would be with the first years.

“Guys! Stop! There’s a goddess on the field!” Satoru shouts at the kids, dropping to his knees in front of you and pressing kisses to the bump – receiving a few kicks at the sound of their papa's voice.

“Hi Y/N!” Yuuji says.

“Y/N! You’re the most stylish pregnant woman I think I’ve ever seen, omg!” Nobara squeals.

“Hey mom.” A shrug from Megumi.

“I brought snacks, I was bored as shit at home - there’s mochi and candied fruit, some sandwiches and lemonade.” You say, placing the picnic basket beside you.

“You okay, Princess?” Satoru rises and pulls you into his chest and kisses the crown of your head and you melt into him, feeling at ease now he’s with you. A twinge in your tummy, another Braxton hick's contraction.

“It’s hot and your baby is stubborn.” You mutter, pouting.

“He’s like his momma.”

“He’s like his papa.”

“He’s like you both.” Comes from Megumi who has opened the sandwiches.

He might be right.

You both sit and rest with the first years when you begin talking about your cursed technique and its effects.

“Vine whip? That sounds awesome!” Yuuji shouts.

You stand (with a lot of effort and help from Satoru) and reached out your arms, pointing it at a distant training dummy and using your technique to wrap a vine around them and then smack it to the ground.

You froze.

Cheers erupted from your tiny audience.

You slowly turned.

“‘Toru.” Your eyes widened.

“Princess?”

“It’s time.”

“Time for what?” He cocks his head – the kids are looking between you both.

“‘Toru, my water just broke.”

A beat of silence as everyone’s eyes drops and see the little wet patch of grass by your feet.

“Holy shit!”

And with that you were lifted bridal style and sprinted toward Shoko’s office – choruses of ‘we love you!’ And ‘you got this’ echoing from the field.

Akio Ryu Tadashi Gojo was born 13 hours later.

And welcomed by the most adoring, loving, doting parents the world had seen.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo smut #pixie writes: family formations

[teecupangel]

Ad Altaïr Anon

Curse ye Tumblr! Why must you prevent me from showing the image of t-posing Altair moments before being sucked into The Cube!! (it's absolutely not me being a first-time nooby asker who has never sent a link through ask ever nu-uh it's all tumblr)

maybe this link will work instead, I'm slightly better with imgur links at least :v

https://imgur.com/a/Hl2elSH

And yeah that's it! I never put one on my computer myself simply because i once tried to mod minecraft in the olden days and messed up so badly that I figured i should just leave that sort of stuff alone.

But AH, my heart! The future and doomed Desmond giving them that slight control over the grey so maybe this Desmond wouldn't have to die 😭

but also lol oh boy would Altair get lost in the sauce surfing the web! It worse than when he was alive with the apple because now he doesn't have to eat, drink, or sleep so someone has to pry him out of the web every once in a while.

(The only real modding I’ve done in a long time was for Mugen back in those days. To be honest though, my brother helped me add characters and stuff hahaha)

The “Altaïr interrupts Desmond’s game using an ‘ad’” idea and its sorta prequel sorta sequel for those curious

“We need to talk about Altaïr’s internet addiction.”

Desmond stared at Shaun’s solemn expression for a fraction of a second before he turned his attention back to the instant noodles he was having for lunch.

He didn’t really like soggy noodles.

“Desmond, this is serious.” Shaun placed his hands on the table and towered over Desmond who was hunched to make it easier to eat his noodles.

That was a bad move.

Desmond could just as easily headbutt his nose at this distance.

“I’m listening, Shaun.” Desmond replied half-heartedly before eating once more.

He didn’t understand why Shaun wanted to talk to him about Altaïr’s internet addiction. It wasn’t like Desmond could stop the man from scouring every web page available in Wikipedia in his endless pursuit of knowledge.

… not that he would want to anyway.

“Desmond, Altaïr has been using the computer 24/7. We have to keep the AC on just to make sure the computer doesn’t overheat. Together with the electricity needed for the Animus and our other devices, two of which are now fully being used by Ezio and Connor-”

Desmond slowly raised his head so Shaun would have a warning to pull away. It was still a close call, Desmond’s head almost knocking against Shaun’s nose but Shaun stood and crossed his arms while Desmond took a sip of the soup before asking, “Are you… are you trying to talk to me about our upcoming electric bill?”

“Not ‘ours’ but the building we’re ‘piggy backing’ from.” Shaun clarified, “They’ll definitely think something is up when they see the sudden spike.”

“Then isn’t this too late already?” Desmond countered lightly, “The bill’s gonna come sooner or later. Might just be better for us to book it.”

Shaun grimaced but did not deny it.

Desmond sighed before he said, “How about this. I’ll tell Altaïr to find us a new safehouse and take care of the logistics and stuff. That’ll be his punishment for skyrocketing some random business’ electric bill.”

Shaun opened his mouth, most probably to argue, so Desmond asked, “Unless you already have the next safehouse in mind?”

Shaun sighed as he said, “I’ll tell the others about it. You tell Altaïr about his punishment.”

Desmond waved his hand before lowering his head to continue eating while Shaun stormed out of the dining room, most probably to bother Rebecca.

Or complain to her.

Maybe both.

Probably both.

Desmond waited until he could no longer hear Shaun’s footsteps before turning to look at his phone that was lying next to the cup noodles.

“Congrats, Altaïr. You got what you wanted.” Desmond mumbled.

His phone’s screen lit up and showed Altaïr in front of his homescreen, arms crossed as he said, “Not yet. Not until we’ve finally settled in a more secured location.”

“More secured.” Desmond snorted, “Just say the internet is too slow for you here.”

“Hm.” Altaïr didn’t even bother to give him a proper reply.

Nor deny it.

“Well, at least wait until midnight before sending the plan to everyone.” Desmond reminded him, “Otherwise, Shaun’s going to find out this was your plan from the start.”

“I know. I’m not a fool, Desmond.” Altaïr said calmly before adding, “Eat a fruit or have salad after that.”

“I’ll eat an apple, alright.” Desmond rolled his eyes, “Please don’t repeat to me how bad it is for my body to keep eating instant noodles.”

Altaïr sighed, “Fine. I’ll leave you with your pathetic excuse for a meal then.”

“Thanks.” Desmond sarcastically said, watching as the screen of his phone turned off.

And he can finally eat in peace…

… soggy noodles.

Damn it.

#assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #shaun hastings #ask and answer

[lu-vin-it]

Girls Night

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Baby Momma AU

Summary: Sarah has a girls night with Uncle Tommy!

Pairings: Ellie Williams X Reader, Sarah Williams X Tommy Miller (Great uncle/Niece relationship, totally platonic)

Pronouns Used: She/Her

Word Count: 842

Warnings: OOC Tommy, Lots of talk of food

A/N: Ty @stqrluvr for proofreading ily! Also, this was a request but I accidentally posted it before I was done so I lost it :/

“Momma?” You hear, followed by the door closing.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You dry off your hands. Sarah comes skipping in.

“Can I go over to Uncle Tommy’s?”

“Did he invite you over?” She nods.

“We’re gonna make pizza and have a girls night.” You snort.

“A girls night huh?” You ask putting your hands on your hips.

“Just cause he isn’t a girl doesn’t mean we can’t have them! We’re going to watch Legally Blonde and paint our nails.” She wiggles her nails in your face.

“I’m fine with it, go make sure Mom’s okay with it first though.”

“Where is she?” You hum.

“I think she’s out back with your brother.” Sarah gives you a hug.

“Okay, love you!”

“Love you too, pea.” Sarah walks to the backyard where, sure enough, Ellie sat with Isaac.

“Hey, Einstein!” Ellie calls out when she sees Sarah. The 10 year old grins at the nickname. “How was school, bug?” She asks as Sarah bends down to hug her.

“It was good.” Sarah hugs her 5 year old brother and then sits down next to her Mom. “Can I go over to Uncle Tommy’s tonight? We’re going to have a girls night.” Ellie raises an eyebrow.

“You ask Momma?” She nods. “She said yes?” She nods again. “Then I don’t see why not.” Sarah shoots up with a grin.

“Okay! Bye, love you!” She places a kiss on her Mom’s cheek and then runs back inside. “She said yes! I’m gonna pack my bag!”

“Okay, Pea.” You say with a chuckle.

Ten minutes later, Sarah shouts her goodbyes and rushes over to Tommy’s house.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite 10 year old? Come on in!” Tommy says as he answers the door. “What do you have planned for us tonight?”

“I have Legally Blonde and nail polish!” Tommy gasps.

“Well then we better hurry and make this pizza!” Sarah nods ecstatically.

Sarah was given the task of spreading the sauce on the dough while Tommy got all the seasonings out. Once the cheese was added, they picked their favorite toppings and piled them onto it.

“Does bologna taste good on pizza?” Sarah asks, holding up a container. Tommy shrugs.

“I guess we’ll find out!” He grabs it and puts four slices onto the pizza. “Is there bacon in there?” Sarah searches the fridge for a second before her eyes land on the bacon and she hands it to her uncle.

“Ham too, right?” She pulls out a box of pre-sliced ham.

“Is that even a question?” He grabs it from her with fake aggression.

“What about vegetables? Should we put kale on it?” Tommy makes a disgusted face at her which she returns.

“Yeah okay, that was stupid.”

“There might be some pineapple in there that we could add.”

“Are you crazy?” Tommy rolls his eyes.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it kid.” Sarah crosses her arms.

“My Moms say it’s disgusting.” Tommy scowls.

“Yeah? Well tell them I think they’re disgusting.” The 10 year old giggles. “Now, let’s get this bad boy into the oven.” Sarah rubs her hands together as Tommy picks up the pan and slowly puts it into the preheated oven.

Sarah groans and rubs her stomach as she swallows another bite. Between the two of them, they had eaten all but one slice.

“I’m never gonna have to eat again.” She says, her voice strained.

“Nail polish time?” Tommy asks as he rubs his stomach too. The 10 year old nods. Tommy gets up and grabs her backpack before returning to his spot on the couch and handing her it. Sarah fishes the nail polish out. She had a black one and a pink one.

“Where’s Aunt Maria? I wanna paint her nails too!”

“She’s on night patrol, won’t be home till tomorrow morning.” Sarah sighs.

“I hate patrol.”

“Me too, kid, me too.” He holds out his hands for Sarah.

“Pink or black?” He hums, pretending to think about it.

“Let’s go with black this time.” Sarah nods and starts painting.

“Uncle Tommy! Quit moving!” She swats his arm.

“Sorry sorry! You’re taking forever!”

“Patience! Beauty takes time, Uncle Tommy!” Sarah chastises.

Once Sarah is satisfied with her work, she stretches her hands to Tommy so that he can paint her nails pink. And as it turns out, Tommy was not good at painting nails.

“That’s not my nail! That’s my finger!” The 10 year old shouts in horror.

“Oops, my bad!”

The paint is uneven and chipped and she was definitely going to ask you to fix it tomorrow.

“Let’s watch Legally Blonde now.” Sarah says with a yawn. She hands Tommy the dvd and he wordlessly puts it into the dvd player and turns on the tv. “I love this movie.” She says with a yawn.

“Me too!” Tommy says as he collapses on the couch. Sarah snuggles up against him and pulls the throw blanket from the couch’s arm onto them. She was asleep by the time Elle was recording her admissions tape.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams imagine #tommy miller x reader #baby momma au

[robertdowneyjjr]

and time can do so much

stony loves steve 2022 // 9.2k words

Steve Rogers has a complicated relationship with time. He's the man out of time, the man who's lost everything to time.

But then he becomes friends with Tony Stark, whose love language is quality time. And that's exactly what Steve needs to find a place in this century.

written for the lovely @ralsbecket featuring love languages with a touch of technologically competent steve and post-2012 team as a family. please enjoy a snippet below, and you can read the full fic on ao3

---

Once Steve moves in, a new phase of his friendship with the team begins.

He meets up with Nat three times a week at the tower’s gym and she quickly becomes someone he feels he can confide in. She’s suitably impressed with how quickly he’s grasped modern technology, only to frown in disappointment when she sees the way he continues to dress in what she calls “old man khakis.” She fixes this grave error of his by sending him a bunch of websites to do some online shopping. He finds that he quite enjoys scrolling through the options with Natasha by his side commenting on what she thinks would suit him best.

Clint likes to join Steve whenever he goes grocery shopping. While Steve loves how convenient it is to ask JARVIS to place an order for him, he also enjoys going to the store himself to pick out fresh produce, a privilege he wasn’t afforded when he was growing up in the depression. Clint, on the other hand, loves going just to try out samples, and he eats so much that they always end up buying those items because Steve doesn’t want the supermarket employee to feel like they’ve wasted their time. Over time, he learns that Clint will eat almost anything, and his guilty pleasure is buying trashy tabloids at the checkout line. He has a collection of photos on his phone of the funniest headlines he’s ever read, and from what he’s shown Steve, at least a third of them are related to the Avengers.

Steve gets to know Bruce better through their mutual interest in cooking. With wartime only just behind him, Steve is still learning the ins and outs of cooking, and the new techniques that have been introduced over the last few decades. The easy part is finding recipes online and buying the necessary ingredients. But Bruce is the one who teaches him the specifics, like the difference between baking and broiling, how to efficiently debone a chicken, which type of pasta to use for a certain sauce, and ways to measure ingredients without using actual measuring tools. He never would have thought, when he first met Bruce on the helicarrier, that they would get into the habit of making lunch together several times a week.

Most surprising is how quickly Steve starts to consider Tony his best friend in this century. They learn things about each other that would have never come up if they had continued living in separate households, thanks to how often they both tend to retreat to the common area whenever they have trouble sleeping. They speak in hushed tones in the quiet of the night, Tony confiding in Steve about his nightmares of the wormhole, and Steve sharing with Tony the stories about the friends he left behind in the 40’s.

He tells Tony about his life in Brooklyn before the war. Most of the anecdotes make Tony laugh, which Steve finds absolutely delightful. Others are treated as catastrophic revelations, like when Tony learns that in all the years Steve has lived in New York, he’s never been to the Met. Not even once.

“Seriously?!” Tony exclaims, abandoning his easy lounging position against the couch cushions to sit upright and glare accusingly at Steve. “And you call yourself a New Yorker?”

Steve rolls his eyes, mouth twitching as he resists smiling at Tony’s dramatic reaction.

“In case you forgot, Tony, I was dirt poor.”

“We’re gonna fix this. Tomorrow. You, me, the Met. No excuses.”

Early the next day, Tony makes Steve wait inside the entrance of the museum as he goes to pay for their tickets. Steve is checking out the brochures and the museum map, trying to figure out which exhibits to prioritize when Tony approaches with two pink metal tags in hand.

He clips one to the collar of Steve’s shirt, saying, “I was going to get a senior ticket for you, but since we’re New York residents we can pay whatever we want for admission.”

“I’m guessing you paid way more than the price of a senior ticket,” Steve says as he straightens the pin.

“Technically I don’t have to pay anything since SI is a corporate sponsor. But I did just make a small personal donation, no biggie,” Tony admits. “Now come on, what do you want to see first?”

Still undecided, Steve closes his eyes and randomly jabs a finger at the brochure he’s holding. When he blinks them open again, he sees Tony grinning in amusement at whatever his finger’s pointing at. He looks down and sighs. “I guess Naked before the Cinema it is.”

“Excellent choice, Captain,” Tony says, waggling his eyebrows. He gestures in front of him. “Lead the way.”

For a man who claims not to care much for the arts, Tony is incredibly patient with Steve throughout their time at the Met. He stays quiet while Steve reads the descriptions from each exhibit display and listens attentively when Steve comments on artistic styles. When Steve asks questions, Tony does his best to explain the historical context behind the exhibits but doesn’t pretend to know any more than he does, relying on his phone and JARVIS if there’s anything that stumps him. Otherwise, he keeps his phone in his pocket and doesn’t check it, giving Steve his undivided attention even though Steve’s enhanced hearing picks up the sound of it buzzing with notifications every few minutes.

They have a nice lunch at the Balcony Lounge, where Tony sits back and listens some more as Steve talks about his favorite pieces so far. It’s clear that half of what Steve says flies right over Tony’s head, but he doesn’t complain or change the topic. Instead, he pushes aside his empty cup of coffee and leans forward, asking Steve to explain a bit more about the various art movements they had just seen. Steve hasn’t had anyone to talk to about his interests like this in a very long time, so he continues to ramble on happily, even as his hands start itching for pencil and paper, needing to draw the way Tony is looking at him so kindly, curiosity sparking behind his eyes as Steve speaks.

It’s heady, being the sole focus of Tony’s attention like this. Steve finds he quite likes it.

It’s early evening when they finally leave, having spent the entire day at the museum. He clutches a bag of knickknacks from the gift shop that Tony insisted he buy, telling Steve that he should indulge in the things that make him happy. He hasn’t stopped grinning for hours, so grateful that he’s finally had the opportunity to check this experience off his bucket list. And with his best friend too, no less.

“Wow, I don’t remember if I’ve ever spent so much time looking at art. Or just at a museum in general,” Tony says as they’re standing outside the Met, waiting for Happy to bring the car around.

“Today has been amazing. Thank you, Tony,” Steve says earnestly. “I know art isn’t your thing, but you took the time to humor me anyway.”

“Hey, no.” Tony grasps Steve by the shoulder and squeezes lightly. “I wasn’t humoring you. I just like hanging out with you.”

Steve smiles, taking a hold of Tony’s wrist and squeezing back.

“I like hanging out with you too.”

---

read the full fic on ao3

#stonylovessteve2022 #stevetony #stony #steve/tony #superhusbands #stony fic #i'm so happy i can finally share this #(there is smut so 👀) #kay writes things

[slightlystupidhun]

Playing Games

Listener plays popular pranks on some of the redacted guys. Im glad it’s becoming a series. So far I have done Milo, David, Asher and Sam . lmk if you wanna see someone else and what prank to do.

Asher-

Baabe and Asher had always been a very close couple. They could joke, play, and experiment with each other. Baabe had typically been the more controlled of the pair, however, everyone has mischievous moment every now and again. Baabe was scrolling on social media waiting for Asher to get home since he got extended for tonight’s shift. As they were scrolling they came across a video of someone playing a prank on their partner. Person A was cooking a spaghetti sauce and put a bunch of salt on the spoon before dipping it in the marinara and feeding it to their partner.

Since Baabe was cooking dinner tonight they knew that it would be the perfect opportunity to try this. They began boiling the noodles, laughing as they recalled the time Milo’s Mate broke the spaghetti noodles in front of him. Baabe had never seen anyone become so speechless yet have so many things to say. They were so lost in thought that they didn’t realize their boyfriend walk through the front door. They slightly jumped as they felt arms wrap around their waist.

“Baabe~ whatcha making?” He said looking over their shoulder.

“Spaghetti- I thought it might be nice to not order pizza tonight.” They replied starting to make the sauce.

“Ha ha, very funny,” he kissed their cheek, “Spaghetti sounds amazing Baabe.” He then left their side to go get changed. They knew that now was the time to prep their prank. They took out a spoon from the drawer and filled it up with salt. They then carefully covered the top with marinara so that no salt was visible.

“Back Baabe! I had some trouble finding my pajama shirt but that’s ok because I don’t really need it.”

“I’m glad you came to that conclusion Ash. Now, I remember you saying that you like some saltier flavored marinara sauce that we had last week so I decided to try a new recipe! Wanna give it a try?” They turned around smiling at him innocently.

“Hell yeah Baabe!” He cheered as he leaned forward to taste the sauce. He opened his mouth and took in all of the red sauce. He paused after he did it, his eyes were watering. He slightly covered his mouth as he looked down forcing himself to smile.

“So how is it?” They looked at him grinning in anticipation.

“Uhm- wow, I’ve never tasted anything like it babe- uhm it’s really a good try Baabe” he stuttered out grabbing a glass of water and drinking it down quickly.

“Oh so you like it?! Amazing I was gonna cook it for the next pack get together.”

“Maybe uhm Baabe, it was so good but it uhm maybe had too much salt. Ya know it was really good though just less salt?”

“Oh so just a little less salt right?” They smiled grabbing the second spoon they prepared. “But it was really good right? So you wanna try more?”

“No, I wouldn’t want you to waste it all on me Baabe! Besides we’re gonna have it with noodles right? So let’s save some for noddles.” He laughed nervously scratching his neck. He hated it whole heartedly. It was one of the worst things he consumed. But, if they were gonna try so hard to make it for him, who was he to judge them. That was until, of course he caught a glimpse of their mischievous smirk. He knew it well, it was the one that meant they were up to something. “Actually babe, can I have the next spoon.” To say they were shocked was an understatement but non the less they handed it over. He took the spoon and held it upside down over the sink, quickly discovering the secret to the salty sauce.

“Ash- uhm you weren’t supposed to,” they went to the opposite side of the island after turning the stove off.

“I wasn’t supposed to what Baabe? Find out about your prank?” He dramatically threw the spoon in the sink before striking a pose.

“So dramatic…”

“It’s not drama it’s flair and as William T. Riker said, ‘Flair is what marks the difference between artistry and mere competence.’”With that he ran around the island chasing his mate all through the house. He finally caught them in the hallway and pulled them into a back hug pressing quick kisses to their neck.

“Ash- I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” They spoke in between laughs.

“I forgive you but, be honest… the actual sauce doesn’t have that much salt does it?”

“Hmm. I guess you’ll have to find out. Cmon let’s go eat.”

#redacted sweetheart #milo redacted #redacted audios #redacted asmr #asher x babe #redacted asmr asher #redacted asher #redacted babe #redacted baabe

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 5 // Gotcha! // Day 3

Contents (Warnings): Soft, safe Vore, unwilling prey and more than willing pred. Slight teasing.

Wordcount: 2,057

Side note: This will contain experimental writing, first person (Lynette's view) will be implemented alongside third person for the two other essential characters, (mostly) Alexander and (occasionally) Drake. For those third person moments all their text will be italicized and have the characters name in Bold at the start. There may be other characters I write for in the future using this method but we’ll see...

__________________________________________________

(Sept. 10th, Saturday)

I still rode on the high of my small victory the next day. And as the hot water ran, so did my thoughts. What else can I do about Alexander? Can I avoid him again? Am I going to have to keep doing this for the whole year? There has to be a better way. I couldn’t take those thoughts. The experience was surreal. I put on my uniform early, out of habit from my previous job.

I walked into the kitchen, my sights set on the cereal box on top of the fridge. 

I smirked when I passed Wicks. I held back to the urge to tip his giant mug that said, “if I’m drinking out of this, you know I got zero Z’s.” He chugged it as if it was his last.

“Rough night?” I asked. 

Wicks then choked out and spun around to the sink holding his nose and mouth. Coffee dripped from his hand that covered them, and he set his mug down on the counter. He glanced up at me, his over-creamed coffee that nearly matched his light olive skin still dripped into the sink. 

He glared, a fit of playful anger in his eyes. It made my goofy smile rise higher. He turned on the sink with his free hand and turned his head to splash water on himself. 

“What?” 

He smiled, “you scared me. I thought you had already left. You used to work mornings at that bullseye place,” He got the rag near the sink and wiped his face. “I was lost in the coffee sauce so much that you made me choke.”

“OH-” I giggled. “Sorry. But I guess that explains why you didn’t get me up this morning. You usually barge in if I’m not up by eight.”

He faced me with the rag up. “Yeah, it’s weird working around the same time, huh?”

“Gross, I get to see my brother more,” I said with an eye roll, but my jests were easy to hear.

“I know. I hate that I couldn’t ask for better sisters.” He eye rolled back, then felt his nose and gestured to the bathroom. “You know what, I’m gonna shower since my nose still burns,” he pointed up at me. “BUT don’t go anywhere Lentils. We’re gonna get lunch after!”

I nodded and decided to get a glass of orange juice instead of cereal. 

Everything else about my life was so normal. It was hard to grasp that these last two days were part of the same reality. They don’t even look like monsters. They look human. Alexander just got bigger. No fangs, claws, nothing. I took a few more sips and washed the dishes after, mine and Wicks’s.

I wish I could tell Wicks. But I don’t even know what he’d say or do. Call the police? Or worse, would he try to Fight them? I shook my head. This sucks.

…

Our lunch wasn’t eventful. We went to a drive-through, ate inside the car, and watched funny videos together. We also talked about the wedding. I would have my vacation time after my first week, so I’d request it soon.

If I can avoid Alexander that long. I thought as I drove to work. I got there a little early again. Due to the long walk to the time clock near the kitchen, I wanted to avoid getting to the pizzeria any later.

I saw Alexander and Drake there. I guess they get here early to chat before work? Or maybe they live together? I wasn’t going to say anything to either of them, but Alexander went ahead of me before I scanned my badge. I jumped.

“Good afternoon, buddy.” 

He had a toothy grin. He slid his card first and left. 

I slid my card next, then looked over at Drake, who shrugged, as confused as I was.

When I passed through the kitchen, I didn’t see Edgar working with the pizzas today, but I saw the other guy with glasses there, and I was relieved Alexander worked in the kitchen today too. 

During our spurt of no customers, I cleaned over my station. I heard Viola’s voice from afar. I perked up. Was she talking to me? 

I spotted her chatting with a male. He shared the same pale blonde hair, fair skin, and a strong man-esque figure. Is that a workout buddy, or maybe it’s her brother? I didn’t want to stare, but she met my eyes before I could break contact and then she looked down at her watch.

I hope she doesn’t think I’m creepy for staring.

“I’ll take your shift in a second!” She shouted.

I gave a weak thumbs up. Viola hugged the guy. He left, and she let me go to break. 

I sat alone on one of the couches and noticed the two, Alexander and Drake, came in.

I fiddled with my phone and sulked because even the cute, dumb games I had on here couldn't distract me from my unease. Being in the same vicinity constantly reminded me of what Alexander did and that he could and would do it again.

I stood up once the room softly pinged for me. Viola and I switched back. Then, I heard Alexander’s voice. It was different from yesterday, much more cheery, which made me shiver. 

“Ready to work together again today?”

I couldn’t help but respond to the tall, lean lad, “sure,” I spoke a little too much and asked something I didn't want the answer too. “You’re not mad about yesterday, are you…?”

“I’m not mad at all,” he said, “In fact, I think it gave me a little needed motivation.” 

“Motivation?”. 

He simply hummed, “mhm.” 

Then refused to say anything more.

Keep busy, Lynette. It'll be fine... I hit home run after home run with customers today, yet still perplexed by him.

Alexander's uncharacteristically happy attitude and cheery tone irked me. He had a sales voice, much like myself, but he sounded sincere. What is he going to do? What am I going to do?! 

I couldn’t even go to lunch early as a flux of people rushed in. After it was done, Viola came back to cover for us.

I opened my mouth to ask him about lunch break. He took off his hat.

“I think I’ll be going to lunch,” he said as he walked past me.

“W-wait.” I called out, and I considered pleading. He ignored me and left. I held my hand to my mouth. Now I'm trapped.

My last twenty minutes before lunch felt long. And even after Viola took up the helm, the walk to the break rooms made my heart pound. 

I clutched my badge. I didn’t see anyone during my brief scan in room one. It seemed like their hang-out spot, so I should avoid it.

I went to break room three across from it after I scanned out to lunch.

I saw Drake at the table, the far table near the couches. I looked for Alexander before I stepped more into the room. My eyes didn't see him. It’s only Drake. 

I cautiously walked closer to Drake. He hadn't looked up from his phone since I walked in. “Alexanders not with you?” 

“He said he was gonna look for you.” Drake glanced up briefly. 

“So, he’s lurking…” I muttered. I couldn't see Drake's eyes well enough with his bangs. 

Once I got close enough to the table, he lowered his head. “I’m really sorry.”

“For-” I saw the shadow cast over the table. I didn’t even hear the door.

My body tensed up, and before I could move, he grabbed my upper arms and pinned them to my body.

“Gotcha!”

I couldn’t struggle or whine. Alexander's mouth got me before I had the chance.

Alexander

He hungrily ate, barely savoring as much as he did before. Since Lynette escaped him yesterday, he needed her to fill his craving. Drake tried not to watch the horror. Even with the distracting rich savor her flesh had to him, it took him half the time to finish eating her compared to yesterday, a measly three minutes.

-GLLLRK-

 He gulped down the last bit, then exhaled aloud with satisfaction. An evil snicker escaped his lips.

“You should check your surroundings more, or your delicious body is going in mine.~”

 He felt her fight against him. It feels more like a massage. He brushed his hand on his gut. 

Alexander generally wasn’t picky with who he ate, but he never ate the same prey twice.

Drake studied Alexander, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so much of a predator before. You’re usually shy before you eat them, and then you look like you’re upset with yourself after letting them go.” 

Alexander grew red, “she started it. She didn’t have to try to escape me yesterday.” 

“She’s a human. You eat them.” Drake replied, “do you expect all of them to come crawling to you and offering themselves?”

Alexander began to imagine Lynette offering her hands to him again and saying, “eat me, please.” He got goosebumps thinking about it, “yeah….”

Drake laughed as Alexander realized what he had said. 

“I mean, no. But, it’s not like we don’t let them out.”

“I think it’s the part where we treat them like food that’s the problem, well, the problem with monsters that eat people.” Drake spoke to Alexander from his high horse, “I drink blood from them once a month.”

Alexander grumbled, “yeah, and blood’s fucking disgusting.” He stuck out his tongue. 

Drake shook his head in response. 

Throughout the rest of the day, he felt proud of himself. I wish I could have seen the look on her face. He originally hid inside break room one, then got a text from Drake as soon as she entered three. He expected her to try a different one.

And before Alexander knew it, his sweet time was over. He took a trip to the Infirmary to release Lynette to Sandra’s care.

…

Lynette

I woke up in the nurse’s office again, and she checked over me. I felt drained. 

“I see you’re still here. Did you need the resignation paper?”

“No,” I replied in a stern voice. “I’m going to figure out a way to beat him again.”

She smiled faintly, “is that why you didn’t come in yesterday?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to find ways to avoid him during lunch.”

The nurse chuckled lightly, “I see. Well, I hope it all goes well, and before I forget, Edgar wants to see you tomorrow as you were a bit...busy today.” 

I stood up and grumbled, “He does?”

“Remind him if he doesn’t find you when you get in.” She said. She called my attention before I left, “I also think I should warn you that it’s going to be a lot more hectic soon.”

I stopped next to the exit, “what do you mean?”

“We have a day crew, they work the usual 4:30a.m. to 1:30p.m., and a night crew, you all who work from 2p.m. to 11p.m., but you’ve only met a fraction of the night crew.” She held up three fingers, “there are three individuals right now that will be returning soon. Two went on vacation, and the other went on leave. Lev, Zilla, and Claudia.”

“And are they…”

“Monsters, yes.” She put her lips together for a moment. Her tone always sounded quiet and reserved. “You seemed graced to come when three of them were out….” She sat in her office chair, laying her hands flat on her lap. “I’ll be here if you ever feel overwhelmed. And don’t be ashamed to give up at any point.”

I slumped, my hand out near the handle.

“I’m sorry if I diminished your hope.” She apologized with a nod of her head, her dark brown hair falling over her face. She then picked it up and gently moved it back behind her ear.

I shook my head as I opened the door, “no, you’re fine…I will figure something out.” I didn’t like the fact that I was going to have others to worry about. Then what? If I escape him, I might get eaten by someone else. I felt disgust linger on the back of my tongue. They’re so gross. 

“Good luck,” she said genuinely, “and make sure not to hurt yourself!”

“Thank you, Sandra.” I left for the night. I got in my car and started my drive home. What am I doing with my life?

...

Thank you for reading! :D

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What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#vore writing #vore story #unwilling vore #soft vore #widfali #willing pred #nonfatal vore #v.ore #v/ore

[roonyxx]

Upon a Hill: Chapter 4

Summary: What happens when the new hot guy, Dean Winchester, shows interest in you?

Warnings:  liitttle hint of smut, angst, injuries, bullying, lanuage, tension

Pairings: high school: Teen!Dean x plus!sized!reader

Wordcount: 1708

My Masterlist

Upon a Hill Masterlist

Part 4

You sat alone at lunch, like always… Dean said he would come today but, he wasn’t there. You couldn’t help but think he regretted what happened yesterday…

You dreamed about it the entire night, what would have happened if you uncle didn’t interrupt. How he would have made you feel, his breath fanning over your skin, his hands tracing over every inch of you, lips touching yours as tongues would have danced together. The sounds he would make as he sinks deep into you. His sweaty skin on yours, hips grinding into yours while you tug at the short strands of his hair.

You were so lost in your daydream that you didn’t see Zack approach you. He had his lunch tray in his hands as he passed you by. A wicked smile formed upon his face as he emptied the entire dish on top of your head.

You shrieked as you felt the soup running down your back and the mashed potatoes landed in your hair.

“Thought you wouldn’t mind my extra’s, fatty.” He snickered in your ear.

The whole cafeteria was looking at you, holding their hands in front of their mouths, laughing at you. You could feel the tears rolling down your face, mixing with the tomato sauce you were currently covered in.

“Oh, is fatty crying now ?” he made a pouty face towards you. “I thought you wanted all my food, you fat cow.”

This was the last straw, you stood up, fuming, clenching your jaw as you pushed him hard.

“YOU DICK!” You took some of the mashed potatoes from your hair and threw it in his face, your chest heaving with anger.

He wiped the food off his face, his tongue peaking just underneath his teeth. He was angry, never in a million years did he see that one coming. You stepped back in fear when you saw the rage in his eyes.

“Z-Zack I-…” Before you could finish he had you pinned by the neck against the wall, a crowd was forming around you two.

“You fucking bitch!” his face inches from yours. “This jacket costs more then everything you own!”

You had trouble breathing, his hand only growing tighter around you. One of Zack’s friends pulled at his shoulder “Dude stop, this getting too far.”

“BACK OFF! Fatty here got out of line.” He squeezed harder.

“Z-zack…” You tried, your hands scratching at his wrist to let you go.

“You’re disgusting, no one likes you, why don’t you just move, or better just end it already so we’re all freed from looking at you, you make me sick you fat bitch.” His other hand punched you in the stomach, making you cough. Black spots were clouding your eyes.

In a flash you could breathe again. Falling on your knees, your hands reached up to your neck as you tried to get air back into your lungs, coughing loud as Dean tackled Zack to the ground, he sat with his knees on Zack’s arms, rendering him unable to fight back. His fists hitting Zack in the face over and over. He was gonna kill him…

“D-Dean.” Your voice was too hoarse to be heard over the sound of his knuckles hitting Zack’s face.

“Hey ?! What the hell is happening here!” a teacher yelled as he saw everyone gathered around the three of you. He stepped in.

“HEY !” the teacher ran to Dean to pull him off Zack, but Dean wasn’t gonna give in that easily.

“HELP GODDAMNIT!” he yelled at the guys watching it all happen. Zack’s friends stepped in to pull Dean off.

Once Dean was off, the teacher checked Zack.

“Help me bring him to the nurse now! And you!” he pointed towards Dean, “Principal office now!”  

The teacher didn’t even notice you, but Dean did. He picked you up bridal style and walked out of the cafeteria, past the principal’s office.

“But D-Dean… you have t-to..”

“Sshh sweetheart, let’s just get you safe, I’ll deal with it later.”

Your head rested against his chest as he brought you to his car, he put you in the front seat and hurried to the other side, getting in he pulled you into his side. Starting the engine he drove to his motel. Your eyes felt heavy, wheezing with every breath you took.

“Sweetheart, you have to stay awake for me.” Dean said as he ran a red light to get to the motel faster. You nodded weakly.

He parked the Impala in front of his motel room, getting out he came to your side to carry you inside.

“Sammy, get some ice and the first aid kit.” He said as he laid you down on the bed.

“Is that Y/n ? What happened?!” Sam asked his big brother.

“Sam! Get the things!”

You were getting more and more aware of what was happening.

“Dean ? W-Where am I ?”

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re at my motel room. You’re gonna be okay.” Sam handed Dean the ice, opening the kit next to you. Dean put the ice on your neck. Your head  was pounding, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“‘m tired…” you said as your eyes fell heavy.

“Y/n, you gotta stay awake.” Dean said as he pushed your hair out of your face, you were shivering, the food you were covered in was cooling you down.

His voice faded away as you slipped into darkness.

You felt a thumb brushing over the top of your hand, opening your eyes, you were confused as to where you were, swallowing you whined. Fuck that hurt.

“Y/n ?” Dean’s face came into your line of sight “Oh thank God you’re awake.”

You tried to sit up more, Dean helping you.

“Are you okay ?” He asked.

“My head hurts, and my neck… fuck” your eyes started tearing at the burning sensation in your throat.

Dean got up to take a bottle of water and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” Greedily you swallowed each drop of the cold liquid, soothing the burn.

“What happened ?” you asked him.

“What do you remember ?” His hands rested in his lap and you could see his bloody knuckles.

“Dean…” you sat up and took his hand, “You punched him… ”

He pulled his hand out of yours, standing up to pace the room. “ He almost killed you!”

“Dean…” you got up from the bed, a little wobblily on your legs. “I’m okay.”

“OKAY ?! Look at what he did to you!! Your neck is completely blue! He… He nearly killed you !”

You stepped towards him and took his hands in yours, trying to calm him down. “Dean look at me.” His jaw clenched as he looked at you. “I’m okay now, I’m here thanks to you.” Your words calmed him down. He nodded weakly.

“Could I take a quick shower ?”

He gave you a half lipped smile, “Yeah of course, I’ll see if I can find some clothes for you.”

“Thank you.” You let go of his hands and went into the bathroom, taking off your clothes you looked at what you could safe, your panties where the only thing spared, you put the rest in a plastic bag before stepping into the shower. Washing away all the goo, you started softly sobbing, you never wanted to go back to school. You were ashamed and scared…

A knock sounded on the door.

“Y/n ? it’s me, I’m just gonna put some clothes inside by the door.”

You cleared your throat. “Y-yeah o-okay.” You heard the door open when he put the clothes inside.

After washing your hair two times, you got out, dried yourself off and put on Dean’s clothes. His sweatpants, a big t-shirt and his hoodie, which was good because you didn’t have a bra anymore.

You looked in the mirror and new tears filled your eyes, hands reaching for your neck. It was angry red, you could see his finger prints in a deep purple. It hurt, not physically but his words cut deep too… sobs broke through you, becoming harder because they hurt. The door opened.

“Hey sshh, sweetheart it’s okay, I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around you to pick you up and sit with you on the bed, cradling you in his arms, his head on top of yours. “I’ve got you.”

You angled your head back and took his hands. “You’re hurt because of me.”

“Y/n it’s nothing.” He whispered against the side of your face. You sniffed, taking the first aid kit from the night stand, opening it up. “Y/n you don’t ha-“

“Shut up Winchester, let me at least do this.”

You didn’t see the small smile on his face when you started disinfecting his knuckles, cleaning away the blood to tape them in. Once you were done you brought his knuckles to your face to give them a kiss. “There, all better.” You gave him a small smile. “Anywhere else you’re hurt?”

“My wrist hurts a little, dude’s got a hard face.” You took his wrist and gave it a little kiss too.

“Anywhere else ?” You said.

“My finger too.” He held up his pointer finger, which you kissed. “Better ?”

“These hurt a little too.” He pointed towards his lips, your heart pounded as he leaned closer. His scent wafting over you, making you swallow hard. His hand cupped your face, pulling you a little closer, his eyes on your lips as he licked his own.

“Can I kiss you ?” he asked in a whisper, you could only nod.

His plumb lips landed on yours very softly, like we was afraid he’d hurt you. You closed your eyes and put your hand in his neck, pulling him closer to urge him on. He turned his head to the side to deepen the kiss, you moaned into his mouth as his tongue brushed over your lower lip asking for access, which you gladly granted him. His tongue danced with yours, making you feel dizzy.

He parted from you when the need for air became too much. He chuckled lightly when he put his forehead on yours.

“Finally.” He said with a wide smile.

Part 5

#Upon a Hill #Upon a Hill part 4 #teen!dean #teen!dean x reader #teen!dean x plus!sized!reader #roonyxx #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x reader #angst #dean angst

[jimmypesto]

boblin + 9 please!

bob/linda + road trip!

“Bobby?” Linda says, using the same caution she might if approaching a rabid animal.

Bob’s grateful to be staring at the road, so he doesn’t have to meet her eye. Is his bad mood that obvious? Somehow, he thought he’d been disguising it well.

“Yes?” He asks through gritted teeth. “Sorry. Not mad. Just…focused. On driving. Yes?”

He’s doing an awful impression of someone who isn’t on edge.

“How much longer, do you think?” Linda asks.

It’s the worst possible thing she could say. This stupid car ride was Bob’s idea, and he feels entirely responsible for how lost they’ve become. His intention was to find a gourmet food store, where he would purchase the ingredients for their Valentine’s Day dinner.

Well, not gourmet. Not even particularly fancy. Just a slightly nicer store than the one he’s used to shopping at, where the fruit seemingly arrives on the displays pre-molded.

The plan was to make a white pesto sauce with pasta, and the cheap ricotta at their local market just wouldn’t cut it. For one night of the year, he wanted Linda to experience some proximity to luxury.

“Bobby?” Linda repeats. “Did you hear me, hon? Ten minutes? Twenty?”

A flood of shame creeps into his gut. It’s only their second Valentine’s Day together, and they seem to be moving in a downward trend. At least last year they had food. Starving your girlfriend out is probably the least romantic thing you can do.

“Uh. I wanna say….forty-five? But…I don’t know. I have no idea where this stupid place is. I think the map is…wrong. Broken.”

This is beginning to feel like a nightmare, where every turn is incorrect and his destination may never have existed to begin with.

“Oh, Bobby.” Linda cooes. “Honey, don’t beat yourself up. So, your first plan didn’t work out. Who cares?”

Bob wishes he could have the attitude she does, where everything is funny and all problems are solvable. If he wasn’t driving, he would close his eyes to listen to the cadence of Linda’s voice.

“Lin.” He says. “I completely ruined your Valentine’s Day. You deserve a nice dinner. Candles and flowers. Not that I had those, but…you know what I mean.”

Even with Bob practically begging her to snap at him, Linda doesn’t budge.

“How could you ruin my day?” She asks. “I spent the whole thing with you, didn’t I?”

The question provokes something in him. When she puts it that way, it’s simple. Fancy cheese or not, the day hasn’t been all bad. Before this disastrous road trip, it had even been pretty nice.

Linda had been in the spirit since the moment they woke up, tackling him with kisses and asking how he wanted his eggs cooked.They’d ended up making breakfast side by side, repeatedly bumping into each other in their tiny kitchen. With anyone else, Bob would’ve found it unbearable.

That’s the thing about Linda. She makes good things even better, and she makes bad things not so bad. Even this road trip, a failure on all fronts, has also been filled with her off-key humming and funny stories.

“I guess you’re right.” He admits. “Thanks, Lin. For the perspective, and for…not breaking up with me.”

“Of course not. Well, not if you stop this car and get me food. Seriously, Bob. If there isn’t cheese in my mouth in the next five minutes, we’re gonna have a problem. Or…bread. Soft pretzels? Something with carbs!”

Bob laughs at her growing impatience. She’d devoured her valentine chocolates during the first ten minutes of the car ride, and he’s been waiting for her next craving to kick in.

“Okay.” He says. “Let’s…let’s stop at the next gas station, and I’ll try not to think about how good that pesto would’ve been.”

Finally braving a glance in her direction, he lets her carefree smile soothe his disappointment.

“Gas station nachos?” He suggests.

Linda’s eye light up, and he laughs again.

“Now you’re speaking my language, Bobby!”

#thank you for the ask! #bobs burgers #bob belcher #linda belcher

[bibi-brains]

♡ on valentine's day our love became a memory

a small fic of how Pesci asked Avelino and Melone to be his valentine ♡

CW: mentions alcohol, fluff, and polyamorous relationships. A/N: coming here to drop this, thank you so much Shyna for making this collab I love writing these for my boys and my OC I love them, again thank you so much for that I hope everyone enjoys it!! tag: @/anikasenkujo

Pesci walked around the kitchen for the 3rd time this night checking the food, making sure that he put enough salt and spices, looking in the wine cellar to see if it was the correct wine, and kneaded his clothes every time he passed by the mirror in the entrance hall. His anxiety was on fire that night for what was about to come later.

Avelino and Melone were coming for dinner with him, it was a date, he knew that, the trio had been dating for not less than six months but Melone and Avelino had been in a relationship for over an year. Pesci was denying his feelings towards the couple, wanting not one but both romantically was out of his box, but after Avelino and Melone pulled him to talk and confessed their feelings about him were reciprocated he joined them in the relationship.

Now it was February and Pesci realized they didn't quite have an official date to celebrate so it would be incredible having it on Valentine’s day.

If it wasn't all the things he wanted to prepare. It couldn’t be exaggerated, but not something simple either, dinner sounded cliche, movie night can be tedious, filling his hallway with petals and cooking a nice dinner and after watching a movie… None of these ideas sounded good for Pesci, at least for the moment and memories he wanted to make with Avelino and Melone.

The final straw was when Avelino and Melone were making plans for Valentine’s day and it would mess up Pesci’s plan, making him nervous about all the things he wanted to prepare being lost so he spoke about a dinner at his place. Even so, he wanted something different, being in his comfort zone by having a bit of knowledge could work fine for now. He cherishes other days together with them.

Pesci heard the doorbell ringing indicating that the other two had arrived, probably on Melone's bike for being so fast. Having the last and final check on the pot with Gnocchi, he rushed to the door, stopping by the hallway mirror to have a look at his hair and look, opening it for the two people outside. Avelino was the first to rush inside to greet Pesci, she was holding a big bouquet of hydrangea flowers that was almost crushed when she hugged him while planting a kiss on Pesci’s green-painted lips following Melone, who always gives a passionate kiss on him, both making his heart-race fast.

“Good evening pesciolino.” Melone said, seeing the taller man's face get a bit blushed from the pet name.

“Hmm I don’t know what we’re gonna have for dinner but the smell is reaching the doorway my love” Avelino hummed pleased with the smell of tomato sauce that came from the kitchen.

“Ah it’s something really simple but I think it’s good.

“Don’t say I think” she corrected him, “I know it’s delicious my dear. We love your food.”

Pesci stood in a feeling that he couldn't really describe, but all the nervousness that he was feeling eased, if not vanished, when these two walked through that door. A feeling of comfort and safety, like you found a place to call home, and home was with them.

After pouring some red wine for Melone and wine white for Avelino, Pesci started to prepare the plates and serve what he had made. All three ate, drank, and talked until were full, but still left some space for the desert, the perfect tiramisù that Avelino loved and only Pesci knew how to prepare.

Things could go as smooth as it was but then he remembered what all of this were about as he ate the final act. His nervos got back in his nerves nad filled his body, making a uncomfortable sensation on his stomach. *no need to worry Pesci, they are no strangers and you know their feelings. Everything is okay.* He thought to himself as build up the courage and tried to dissmis his anxiety.

“I wanted.. I-” Pesci took a deep breath to say those words to the duo who were staring curiously at him. “I wanted to… ask. No, I wanted to know if we… not really because we are but-”

“Pesci!” Avelino’s voice cut the air interrupting the man. “You want to ask to be your valentine?” 

By these words Pesci blushed deeply, looking down at his plate still half filled with the tiramisù. “I-I wanted to, I mean I know we are already together but nothing was officially said and I wanted to make something special and romantic like this like I love both of you and wanted to have a special date for us.”

Pesci was nervous and his words were rushed, but he made himself clear. Something about being nervous or under pressure makes his mind work fast and so do his body and actions.

Melone sensing his emotions, put his wine glass down and moved to the other man's side, placing his arms around Pesci’s long neck and smooching his right cheek.

“Ooh pesciolino, calm down and don’t be nervous about it, we are no strangers.” he comforted, making Pesci calm down a little to collect and arrange the words in his mind.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to ask you two to be my partners… well we already are but we don’t have an exact date to celebrate it and I just wanted it to be today to make a special day even more special.”

Avelino was smiling ear to ear, seeing her boyfriend all shy by expressing his affection and love was cute and heartwarming, also preparing so much all by himself only for them was magical to her. Melone glazed at her and went back to Pesci, his answer was a deep kiss planted on Pesci’s now faded green lips, soon Avelino moved to Pesci’s left side and gave the same answer as Melone. Pesci found himself smirking after the kisses having his heart beating even faster than ever, he got emotional for receiving such positive reactions and comments for things he had done for this special night. He wanted everything flawless, but being held like this by both of his lovers was more than that.

#🌹celebrate love collab #avepescimel :: lilac heart shell #avelino :: 💗 #melone #pesci #jjba oc #oc x canon

[frenchpuppycormier]

HI ZOË!!! angst #16 for that sentence starter post if you're still up for some writing. i love getting my feelings hurt 🤡

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Then why are there bruises all over your face?"

—

Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body.

She waves at every animal she sees on her daily walks and patrols at night. She gives and gives to people without expecting anything in return. When someone is having a bad day or just really needs to talk, she listens, even criminals. Most of them aren't any different than the average person, they simply were dealt the wrong hand. She's extremely loyal and doesn't take anything personally. One time, Kara saved a fly that was trapped in a spider's web.

So yeah, Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Which is why today is such an anomaly.

She's in the kitchen still dressed in her navy chinos and baby pink button up with palm trees from when she came home from work. Andrea made her rewrite an article thrice, Jeremy from accounting had broken the copier machine and politely asked for her help in fixing it, she stopped a bank robbery a few blocks down from CatCo when she realized the police wouldn't get there in time, and to top it all off she unwillingly skipped lunch after someone stole her sandwich from the staff fridge.

To say she was exhausted and starving was an understatement. Changing into her pajamas meant she had to walk all the way to the bedroom and Kara was too lazy, even for superspeed.

As she stirs her homemade tomato sauce she taps her phone screen and checks the time. 6:35 pm. Frowning, Kara doesn't see any missed messages or calls from Lena letting her know she's going to be late.

She shrugs to herself and thinks Lena must've gotten caught up in her lab and lost track of time. It happens more often than not, and Kara doesn't think it'll ever change, much to her chagrin. It's bad enough Lena forgets to eat lunch most days, but to continuously forget her phone and watch in her office? Kara knows her wife's a workaholic, but she wasn't aware until now, the fourth night this week, that it was getting this bad.

Kara strains the pasta and cuts the garlic bread while periodically stirring the sauce and checking her phone. She decides to finally turn on some music when the silence of the penthouse becomes too stifling and daunting.

She's in the middle of dancing to ABBA and plating the food when she hears a familiar heartbeat walking down the hall. Kara tries not to listen to it too often—she doesn't want Lena to feel like her privacy has been invaded—but sometimes she can't help it. Her wife's heartbeat is one of the most soothing sounds she's ever heard, and ever since she heard it for the first time, she's just been naturally drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Kara smiles as she hears it get closer until Lena's opening the door and walking through. "Hey, babe! I'm in the kitchen!" she yells, her energetic voice reverberating throughout the house.

There's no verbal response like there usually is, which is the first warning sign. The second is when Lena walks by—she has to in order to go to their room—it's with quick steps and careful avoidance. But Kara's been able to read her like a book since they've known each other, and she knows something's amiss by the way Lena doesn't even greet her with a kiss. She always does.

"Lena?"

Her wife stops frozen in her tracks, head angled down, hair covering her face like a curtain. Lena's heart ticks up a beat, leaving Kara wildly concerned.

"Lena?" she steps around the island and stands in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbles.

Kara tilts her head to make eye contact, but Lena moves her head so she can't. "Then why won't you let me look at you?"

"It's nothing, I-I'm fine."

"And why does that not convince me?" Kara sighs. Lena doesn't move a muscle and she keeps quiet. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She still shows no signs of moving. It's like she's decided her next career move is becoming one of those marble sculptures at the museum people love to gawk at.

"Lena...you're scaring me." She tentatively reaches out and grasps Lena's fingers, tremendously thankful when she doesn't pull away. If there's one thing her wife is bad at, it's letting people in. But she also knows when she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed that holding her hand relaxes and grounds her. "Please..."

Finally, after standing there in an awkward and probably painful way with the way Lena's neck is positioned, she slowly looks up. Kara audibly gasps when she sees her, and what she sees ignites a fire in her chest and a fury in her eyes. "If you're not hurt, then why are there bruises all over your face?"

"Kara.."

"Lena," she breathes and lifts her hands to gently cup her face, tears pooling in her eyes. Her breathing is significantly more ragged than before, and she mentally takes note of why that is. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," she repeats.

Kara frowns and backs away, crossing her arms. "Who did this to you?"

"Please, Kara. I don't want to make a big deal—"

"Who?" her voice is lower and angrier, sending chills down Lena's back. She grits her teeth, "Lena, tell me who did this to you now, so I can kill them."

"Kara, this isn't you," she reaches forward to calm her down, but Kara starts pacing.

"The hell it isn't!" Kara exclaims, fists clenching at her sides. "My wife was beaten for all I know, and she's acting like it's just another day at the office!" she gestures at Lena, exasperatedly. "How would you expect me to act?"

Lena flinches at her tone.

Kara notices, because she always notices when Lena's in distress, and she deflates. "Lena, you're the love of my life, my person, and when you're hurt I can't help how I act. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm overreacting or if I'm yelling, but it's you." She walks back into her space and places her hands over Lena's face, thumbs lightly grazing her cheekbones, careful not to bump her wounds. "It's you," she whispers.

Lena swallows thickly, and when she speaks her voice is soft and afraid. "It was an accident."

"Did someone do this to you?" Kara's jaw clenches as she lets go. She doesn't stray far though, crossing her arms in front of her chest to try and calm down.

"Kara, no," Lena sighs, tears pooling in her eyes. "I...I did it to myself."

"What?" Kara's arms drop to her sides. "What are you talking about?"

"I was in a board meeting," she clears her throat. "Um...I was presenting a new prototype for...for," Lena shakes her head and frowns tensely. She rubs her eyes with tight fists and with a shaky breath, she cries, "Kara, I—I can't remember!"

Kara steps forward and grasps her hands. "Hey, it's okay. Take your time." She rubs soothing circles over her knuckles with her thumbs.

Lena takes a deep breath and tries again. "I was in a board meeting, and I vaguely recall getting a terrible migraine. Everything after that is fuzzy," she sniffles and takes her hands back to wipe her eyes. "Jess said I fell and hit my head on the table on the way down."

Kara inhales shakily, "What?"

"I had a seizure, I guess," she says it with a slight lilt at the end like it's a question she doesn't want answered. "Uh, it lasted about five minutes until the paramedics arrived. They said I was lucky I wasn't doing something else, like driving. It could've been a lot worse."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone call me?," Kara looks at her with pleading but sorrowful eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"We promised each other, remember?" squeezes her hands. "For better or worse," she says with all the conviction she has. Kara kisses her knuckles and asks, "What did the doctors say?"

Lena sniffles and bows her head. "They ran all these tests on me, but couldn't find anything serious as to why I had a seizure. It could be any number of things, but they can't really do anything for me until I have another one," she looks up at her wife, lips wobbling.

"Kara, I'm scared," she whispers. "This is—" her words catch in her throat, and it's hard for her to breathe. "This is—my mom," she cries hysterically, covering her mouth with her hands, "This is how my mom died, she—she had a seizure while she was in the lake and she drowned. I can't—I can't believe this is—this is happening," she hiccups into another sob.

"Shhh," Kara envelops her in a hug and rubs soothing hands along her back. Lena bawls uncontrollably into her neck, hands gripped tightly to the back of Kara's shirt. "I'm so sorry, Lena," she kisses her on the head and murmurs into her hair, "We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

"What if I have what she had?" Lena questions, voice muffled and watery. "Kara...I don't wanna die," her mind begins to fill with thousands of different scenarios and she spirals into a panic, her whole body shaking, "I don't wanna die, Kara!"

"Honey, no," Kara hugs her tighter, as much as she can without harming her, then pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. She pointedly looks into her eyes when she says, "You're not dying. Okay? Not today, not anytime soon, alright?" Lena's face is red and splotchy. She tries to reign in control of her emotions, and she exhales a shaky breath while managing to give a slight nod. "Good. We'll figure out what's wrong with you, and if we can't do that here, then...we'll go to Argo. Their advances in science are way ahead of Earth's, and if that's not enough then I'll personally travel to other earths or other planets until I find a solution. You're not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it."

"Promise?"

Kara palms the underside of her jaw and rests their foreheads together, Lena's puffs of breath hitting her lips. "I promise," she presses their lips together in a chaste kiss and mumbles, "I love you." Kara kisses her again, "More than anything."

"I love you, too," Lena replies and buries her face in Kara's chest, her arms wrapped around her waist tight and what would be restricting if not for Kara’s invulnerable body. A calming minute passes for them in the aftermath of Lena's breakdown, when Lena quietly asks, "Is something burning?"

Lena feels her wife stiffen in her arms. "Shit!"

She pulls back and raises her eyebrows curiously, an amused glint in her eyes as she asks, "Did you just swear?"

Kara extracts herself from Lena's hold and stutters, "N-no, I said sh-sheet," she fumbles over to the stove and turns off the burner. Kara leans over the pot and frowns at the wreckage.

Lena chuckles with such fondness it's almost like their previous conversation has been forgotten. Kara beams at the sound, one of the reasons she fell in love with Lena in the first place; that girl can make laughter sound like music. Even her out-of-control snort laughs are adorable. At least to Kara's ears.

"There's no point in denying it, love, I heard you loud and clear," Lena smirks and joins her in the kitchen, poking her in the side. Kara squeals and feigns hurting by falling to the floor dramatically.

Lena playfully rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. "Baby, get up, the floor is a mess." Kara easily obeys and jumps to her feet with barely any help from Lena. "I married a weirdo," she shakes her head.

"Do you regret it?"

"Never," Lena states firmly. "You're my weirdo, forever."

"I like the sound of that," Kara blushes. Even after being married for five years, and knowing each other even longer, Lena still possesses the ability to fluster Kara on a daily basis.

"C'mon, let's order Chinese."

"You're speaking my language!" Kara kisses Lena on the nose and watches with pure affection as it scrunches. She grabs the takeout menu from the junk drawer before twining her fingers through Lena's and snuggling with her on the couch.

No matter her diagnosis, not matter the outcome, Lena will be more than okay with Kara by her side.

#half of this was written with an edible in my system #so i apologize if it doesn't make sense #lasdkjfldskjf #prompt ask #supercorp #supercorp fic #a lot of angst #but also PURE FLUFF

[drabbles-mc]

Safe & Sound

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @frattsparty​​, @garbinge​​, and Anon: #11 with Bishop: “I almost lost you” kiss (Prompt from This List)

Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending), hospitals, mentions of injuries, mentions of car accidents

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: All three of you sent in this request and that fact alone made my heart soooo happy haha. Hope you guys enjoy it!!

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Bishop has experienced more than his fair share of loss in his lifetime. Every kind of loss you could go through, he’s been there already. He’s lost relationships of every kind, he’s lost friends and family to the inescapable grip of death. From the military to the MC, the numbers had grown too high to count. Somewhere along the way he started to push it all down, become hardened to it. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to function at all. He truly believed that he had hardened past the point of no return, become too jaded for any loss to hit home anymore.

Until Hank walked into Templo one night looking like he’d seen a ghost.

“Bishop…” his voice was timid, which wasn’t at all like him.

“What?” Bishop had been so in his own head, too busy stressing over the MC falling apart to even notice Hank walk in.

“Y-you gotta get to the hospital,” he forced out.

Bishop’s brows furrowed, unsure why he was being so vague, “Why?”

“It’s Y/N.”

He shot up out of his seat, “What the fuck happened?”

Fear was written plain as day on Hank’s face, “I-I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me—I’m not family.”

“Fuck!” he slammed his fist down on the table before racing out of Templo.

His rage was written all over his face—unable to show genuine fear he leapt right to anger. He didn’t know what happened but the reality of it was that it didn’t matter. You were laid up in a hospital somewhere and someone was going to have to pay for it. Everyone who was in the clubhouse saw the tension in his features and stayed well out of his way as he quickly strode towards the door. Angel got halfway through asking what was wrong before he realized that Bishop wasn’t going to offer a word to anyone, his only concern being getting to you.

He tore down the streets of Santo Padre on his bike. By some minor miracle, he got to the hospital safely and didn’t need to be laid up in the room next door to yours. He gripped his helmet tight in his hand as he stormed in, Hank hot on his heels after somehow managing to keep up with him on the wild ride over.

After a very disjointed talk with one of the nurses, who was clearly intimidated by everything about Bishop at the moment, he was finally being led back to see you. Hank offered to go back with him but Bishop waved him off, saying that he was fine.

“Really, Bishop, I don’t know if you should be—”

“I said I’ll be fucking fine, Hank,” he snapped.

Hank backpedaled, taking a deep breath before finding a seat off to the side in the waiting area. He didn’t know what Bishop was about to be walking into—neither of them really did. The last thing he was going to do was leave him there alone. Even if he was acting like a dick at the moment.

The nurse walked him to the doorway, hanging back as he walked into the room. The rage he’d been holding onto began to wear away as he looked at you, his fear and sadness taking over. He set his helmet on one of the chairs as he slowly approached your bed. One hand came up to cover his mouth as tears gathered in his eyes. Once he reached your bedside, the nurse took that as her cue to step away, giving Bishop a moment to process all that was laid out in front of him.

You looked peaceful. There were a few cuts on your face, and your right arm was strapped up in a sling, but the expression on your face was almost one of contentment. For some reason that made his heart break even more. A choked sob slipped past his lips as he reached forward and gently caressed your cheek, as if to make sure that you were really there and really okay. He studied the steady rise and fall of your chest in a desperate attempt to try and calm himself.

“Fucking drunk drivers,” he muttered under his breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

He pulled a chair as close to your hospital bed as he could manage, not wanting to climb up next to you and risk hurting you further. The nurse reassured him that you would be alright, you just needed whatever rest you would be able to get, but he wasn’t going to believe that until you woke up and spoke to him. They might’ve seen you conscious and speaking but until he saw it for himself none of that mattered. He slid his hand into your own, letting out a deep, strangled sigh as he tried not to break down.

Minutes ticked by in hospital silence, meaning the only noise came from the monitors at your bedside, and the occasional sound of loud footsteps from outside the door of your room. Bishop didn’t move a muscle, unable to do anything besides stare at you and trace his fingers over the knuckles of your good hand.

You let out a quiet groan as you started to wake up. His eyes widened, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly in anticipation. You fought to open your eyes, exhaustion still weighing heavily on you. your eyes slowly started to flutter open and you began to register what was happening around you—you felt the warmth of Bishop’s hand clasping yours and you could hear the hitch in his breathing.

“Obispo?” your voice was raspy with sleep, and residual pain from everything you’d been through.

He let out a sob that turned into a laugh of relief, “Querida,” he lifted the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it lightly as he mumbled his words against your skin, “Fuck, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Baby?” you said quietly as you tilted your head slightly to get a better look at him.

He lifted his head, “Yea?”

“Come here,” you took your hand out of his and motioned for him to join you on the bed.

“I don’t wanna hurt—”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured, scooting over to make room for him to join you, your movements slow and rigid as you tried to maneuver without causing yourself more pain.

Bishop carefully settled onto the bed next to you, letting out a deep sigh of relief as he let you lean comfortably against him. He felt your body heat seeping over into him and he couldn’t deny that it was the best thing that he’d felt in a long time, the strongest type of reassurance.

“I love you,” he said quietly, resting his forehead against the side of your head.

“I love you too,” you reached over with your good hand and gently trailed your fingers down the side of his face.

“Hey, sweetheart?” his voice was just above a whisper.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, “Hm?”

He cupped one side of your face in his hand, carefully tracing his thumb along your cheek, sure to avoid glossing over any of the fresh scrapes. His eyes were glassy with tears as he looked at you, and you found yourself with a small, soft smile on your face. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d ever seen Bishop look so vulnerable.

You opened your mouth to say something but before you could get the first syllable out, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, the rough pads of his fingers moving so lightly along your cheek and down to your neck and shoulder. You leaned into him as much as you could without hurting yourself, wishing that you could melt completely into the feeling that you were experiencing with him as the two of you laid together, lips locked. You trailed your fingers through his beard as his lips moved in sync with yours. The slight tension in his body let you know that he was fighting hard against the urge to hold you tight and pull you as close as humanly possible. He was doing everything that he could to make one kiss communicate everything that he wasn’t able to show you otherwise.

When he pulled himself away from you, allowing you to catch your breath, you felt the rigidity in his body start to give way. His forehead rested against yours as he shut his eyes tight, trying to focus on the fact that you were really there with him, that everything was going to be alright.

You knew that there were a million thoughts running through his head, that every person he’d ever lost was coming back to haunt him. You placed a light peck on his lips as you rested your hand on his chest, “We’re alright, Obispo.”

His breath came out shaky as he nodded, “We’re alright.”

There were a few beats of silence as the two of you laid together. Bishop’s eyes were closed as he tried to focus solely on the feel of your body leaning against his. You were fighting the urge to fall back to sleep again, wanting to soak up the small comfort of having him with you for the time being.

You saw someone appear in the doorway. Forcing your eyes to focus, you realized it was Hank. A small smile crossed your face as you nudged Bishop, who immediately opened his eyes and glanced over at the door.

“Oh,” Hank rested his hand on the back of his neck, clearly knowing that he was interrupting, “I was just checking…I just wanted to make sure…I’ll just…it looks like you’re all good here so…”

“We’re good,” you said quietly with a laugh, “Thank you, Hank.”

“Yea, of course,” he diverted his gaze to Bishop, “I’m gonna head back. If you need anything just, you know, call.”

He didn’t wait for a response before disappearing down the hall out of sight. You looked up at Bishop and you could see all the thoughts swirling around behind his eyes, “You owe him an apology of some kind, don’t you?”

He chuckled, lightly kissing your temple, “You sure you’re not concussed or something?”

“You better say sorry when you see him again, Obispo,” you looked up at him.

“Shh,” he smiled, kissing you on the lips, “go back to sleep.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh, “You’re lucky I’ve only got one good arm right now.”

“I’m lucky for that reason and so many more,” he rested his forehead against yours, weight settling back onto his shoulders as he thought about what the gravity of the situation could’ve been, “You’re the strongest fucking person that I know.”

You smiled, brushing your nose against his, “We’re okay, baby,” you reassured him, “We’re safe.”

“Yea,” he placed a tender kiss on your lips, “We’re safe.”

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