#still got a Lot in the pantry to cook with

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hear me out, Wally in a dino onsie.

done & Done

#he is Cozy and has Friends #stuff aside i really want this onesie ngl #its real. i used a reference. and its Glorious #who WOULDN'T want an ankylosaurus onesie???? #scribble garnish #welcome home #wally darling #the art is blocking but Not While I Made This #twas a breeze. a fun refreshing breeze #i gotta get back on the outfit requests #still got a Lot in the pantry to cook with

[shawtuzi]

i’m still deciding whether i want to write for ellie or abby in my next tlou fic but until then pls enjoy these construction worker!eren hc’s bc i am sooo thirsty for him

cw include: black fem!reader, lots of fluff, lots of smut, eren being the cutest thing ever

sfw

construction worker!eren whose only dream in this life is to have a pretty wife with a litter of kids and a big ass house to go with it. he’s already slipped a gorgeous fat rock on your finger and talks of getting pregnant with your first child were slowly but surely happening which meant he was getting closer and closer to what he truly wanted most.

construction worker!eren who is a total mommas boy!! his mom is so very dear to him and to know she adores you just as much as him makes him so so happy.

construction worker!eren who looks so cute in his everyday work outfit. whenever he’s got his hard hat on around you you can’t help but knock on it a few times but it’s okay he thinks it’s super cute.

construction worker!eren who starts his day a six-thirty every morning and is always home by five o’clock on the dot. his morning routine consists of giving your forehead and lips a sweet good morning kiss as soon as his eyes open, a quick fifteen minute shower with music softly playing in the back (usually the trapsoul album by bryson tiller), making a big ass pot of coffee bc lord knows he’ll need it with the airheads he works with, quadruple checking to make sure there’s food in the fridge and pantry for you, another sweet kiss to your lips before he heads out, and then spending five minutes trying to pry you off of him while you beg him to take the day off. “m’sorry sugarplum i cant take off today, gotta save up for that big house we want you know how it is,” he’d always say before shushing your whines with a kiss full of tongue n passion.

construction worker!eren who is so tired and sore when he gets off work but is never too sore to accept one of your bone crushing hugs as soon as he walks through the door to your shared apartment. he’s always extra careful to make sure his hands that are usually covered in residue don’t touch your clothes even though you could literally care less.

construction worker!eren who facetimes you everyday around the same time to enjoy your company while he’s on his lunch break. usually the conversations consists of you telling him to make sure he’s applying a lot of sunscreen (bc this heat was nothing to play about), your plans for what you were making for dinner, and if anyone happened to piss him off that day you’ll surely hear about it.

“how’s your lunch?” you asked giving eren a loving smile as you watched him practically devour the leftover lasagna from last nights dinner. he wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking, a content smile on his lips. “food is perfect honey tastes just as good as it did last night,” you smiled at his words but it faltered just the slightest bit when you saw how reddish pink his cheeks were. “baby have you put on any sunscreen yet? weather app says it’s supposed to be almost a hundred out today,” you pouted wishing so desperately that he was there so you could give his little sunburns kisses. eren observed his face in the tiny box on the corner of his phone, letting out a small hum. “don’t worry about me sugar i’ll put some on before we get off the phone,” he gave you a comforting smile which you returned. you folded your freshly manicured hands together before speaking, “so…for dinner i was thinking steak kabobs?” “now we’re fuckin’ talking”

construction worker!eren whose nicknames for you are sugar, sugarplum, honey, angel, and my honeysuckle (which is a type of flower heje)

construction worker!eren whose stomach is almost as big as his heart lol this man loves him a good home cooked meal!!! he doesn’t know what he did to deserve a wife who feeds him as good as you do but you best believe he thanks his lucky stars everyday for it. and yes he’s fs the kind of man to completely devour his food in record time meanwhile you’ve barely made a dent in yours, this usually leads to you splitting the rest of yours with him bc this man always has room to eat more food.

you had decided to make steaks for dinner and like usual eren had devoured his plate in less than ten minutes. “was it good my love?” you giggled taking a bite of the roasted potatoes you made as side. bc he had a full mouth all eren was able to get out was a satisfied sounding ‘mhm!’ eren had washed his dishes and put them away before making his way back to the table to keep you company while you continued to eat your food, love and adoration swarming in those jade irises of his. without a word you swiftly got out of your chair and got comfy on his lap. eren didn’t say a word but by the way he was looking at your plate you could tell he was dying for another bite. you cut off a piece of steak and held the fork up to his lips with a smile, “go ahead take a bite i know you wanna.” without a second thought eren took a bite and for the rest of dinner you took turns feeding him and yourself.

construction worker!eren who becomes even more attentive and loving than he already is once you’re finally pregnant!!! you have morning sickness?? he’s right behind you rubbing your back and even offers to brush your teeth for you after you’ve finished. you need your feet rubbed?? prop them up and he’ll get straight to work. he even takes more days off work than usual bc he misses your touch just as much as you miss his. ever since he found out there was a little him growing in you he frequently started talking to your belly.

construction worker!eren is a girl dad no ifs, ands, or buts!!!!! crazy story but he had the strongest feeling you were having a girl and low and behold on the day of your gender reveal you found out you were having a girl!! yes he cried like a baby himself and yes connie has it on video.

construction worker!eren who treats your daughter like she’s the finest china when she’s finally born :( the first time he did skin to skin contact with her he swore his heart was gonna explode with how much love his had for the tiny human in his arms. and once she was sound asleep in her lil bed he was quick to leave the hospital to buy you whatever foods you were craving—you deserved the best princess treatment for bringing his lil princess into the world.

construction worker!eren who keeps a polaroid pic of you, him, and your newborn daughter in his worn out wallet, showing it to everyone at his job…and a couple strangers….he rlly can’t help it you two are his pride and joy <333

“hey reiner did i ever show you this picture?” eren beamed holding up the polaroid in reiner’s face for the third time that day. reiner chuckled a bit before nodding, “yes eren you showed me, she’s a cute one you and y/n are lucky,” he smiled and eren nodded in agreement, still staring down at the picture. “yeah…m’the luckiest guy in the world aren’t i?”

nsfw

construction worker!eren who is six foot six and pure muscle. it’s a wonder how he eats so good and manages to look even better but hey! you weren’t complaining. he certainly was lacking down there either baby he’s the full package. his dicks eight and a half inches with two prominent veins on the underside that rubbed against your sensitive walls in the most delicious way possible.

construction worker!eren who has a raging breeding kink but is that really a surprise? whenever you two fuck and he’s able to rlly take his time with you i kid you not he has to cum inside you at least three times or he will not be satisfied. sometimes whenever he pulls out he’ll push down on your lower belly and watch his cum spill out with dark, predatory eyes. majority of the time he’ll use that as an excuse to fill you up for the umpteenth time bc he just cannot let any of his precious cum go to waste.

“so pretty,” eren had a lazy smile on his face as he watched three orgasms worth of cum ooze out of your puffy, spent pussy. just when you thought he had his fill and was ready for a much needed good nights rest you felt his one softening dick begin to harden up against your still trembling thighs. “eren…” you whimpered, but he just shushed you with a kiss mumbling a quick ‘jus one more’ before slipping back inside you with ease. he was extremely low on energy so he wasn’t quite able to fuck into you like a madman like he was before so he just settled for grinding into you. “o-oh honey! f-fuck!” you squealed wrapping your legs around his waist. between his swollen tip continuously bumping into your stomach, and the coarse hairs on his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit you were slowly but surely going dumb. “yeah jus’ like that, f-fuck yeah let daddy fuck a baby into you baby c’mon make me cum.”

construction worker!eren who is nawt a fan of quickies at all!! he’s a man that likes to savor the moment when it comes to sex and if he’s able to admire the faces and sounds you make then what’s the point?? when he’s got you all to himself expect to be occupied for the next couple of hours bc like i stated before he’s not satisfied until he’s cum in you at least three times and made you cum twice as much!!

construction worker!eren who is a certified MUNCH!!!! this man loves having his mouth on your pussy and yes if ur wondering he definitely eats it through your panties. he’s so sloppy and loud with it you’d almost be embarrassed if he didn’t completely turn you dumb whenever he tongue fucked your weeping pussy :(

“mm renny,” your brows scrunched together in pleasure as eren sloppily ran his tongue up and down your soaked folds. his hair was still damp from his shower and was slowly soaking the couch from the droplets falling from his locs but neither of you seemed to care. “couldn’t stop thinking about you today…i mean i already think of you all day but i kept thinking about you in that way and fuck it was so hard to focus. reiner almost ripped my head off from how distracted i was,” as he was talking he was pressing sloppy, wet kisses all over your cunt and the inside of your thighs. he inserted two fingers easily into your dripping center and couldn’t help the groan that rumbled in his chest when he saw how tight you were squeezing his fingers. “you got the prettiest pussy honey, you know that right?” he gave you a small smile before spitting directly on your clit making you jolt. you whined in embarrassment ofc and covered your face with a near throw pillow, whimpering out a pathetic ‘stop ren s’embarrasing.’ eren just hummed and attached his mouth back to your pussy, wrapping his slightly swollen lips around your throbbing clit, “m’never gonna fuckin stop my pretty little honeysuckle never ever.”

construction worker!eren who is a biggg fan of the 69 position. sometimes you suck him so good he tends to lose focus but you don’t mind in the slightest. your big strong man never stops working whether he’s on or off the clock so if he gets a little consumed in his own pleasure who are you to snap him out of it?? if you’re putting some serious work in he’ll moan n groan so loud into your pussy you could cum alone just from that!!

construction worker!eren who had the prettiest moans *sighs dreamily* he’s never shy to let you know you’re making him feel good and it’s so fucking hot hearing his breathy whines and moans especially when he accidentally overstimulates himself which he happens to do a lot heh. you’ve definitely had a couple complaints from neighbors bc of the noise but he don’t even give a fuck!! he knows it turns you on more than anything to hear him be so vocal so why on earth would he ever stop??

construction worker!eren who was soo nervous when you suggested having sex while you were pregnant. it was no problem for him at first but once you started showing that’s when the panic started to settle in—he was so afraid he’d accidentally hurt you or the baby that he kinda went on an sex hiatus much to your dismay, but after some convincing be finally gave in.

you were on your side and he was spooning you from behind, giving your shoulder or neck a kiss of encouragement every once in a while. “jus’ let me know if it hurts at all or you’re uncomfortable okay? cant believe you talked me into this…” eren mumbled into your shoulder. you replied with a soft ‘mhm’ your patience wearing thinner by the second. it had been a good couple of weeks since you and eren last had sex and you were almost sure you were beginning to lose your mind. you’d finally had enough when he came home from his morning jog looking like an absolute dream with his chest heaving and brown baby hairs sticking to his forehead. that’s how he ended up here: one hand securely holding onto your small bump while his other was slowly pushing his dick inside your awaiting entrance. “oh wow…” your eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss, toes curling once he bottomed out. “f-fuck that feel okay hun?” it felt more than okay. you brought your hand to your clit and began rubbing quick circles to dull out the stinging stretch. eren peeped this and replaced yours with his own, the rough pads of his fingers on your clit had your lips trembling. “y-you need to stop this—hah! sex strike and fuck me more please i—i miss this,” eren heard your plea and nodded feverishly. god was he a fool for ever depriving yourselves of each other, he will never be doing this again.

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren jaeger fluff

[alotofpockets]

Jealousy | Mary Earps

Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader

Summary: Mary introduces you to a few of your teammates but ends up getting jealous when you get along with them well.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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After a few months of dating Mary, she invited you over to her place to meet some of her England teammates. Since the girls played all over, you hadn't met many of them. You had already met her teammates at United on a few occasions, as you loved going to watch Mary play. So, the only familiar face next to your girlfriend’s would be her United teammate Ella Toone.

You ring Mary’s doorbell, and the girl opens the door with a big smile plastered on her face, “Hi baby.” She pulls you into a hug, and closes the door behind you. “How are you feeling?” You were sitting on the couch now, with Mary’s arm across the back of it. “I'm a little nervous about meeting your friends but overall I am doing well. How about you?” Mary’s arm wraps around your shoulder, “I’m doing good, and you don’t have to be nervous, they are going to love you.” Mary had just finished her sentence when the doorbell rang. 

A cheery Beth walked into the house, “Hi mate, it’s good to see you.” She hugged Mary at the door. Mary walked her in and introduced the two of you right away. You held out your hand for Beth to shake but the girl greeted you with a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mary has been talking my ears off about you, and that says a lot as I am usually the talkative one.” The blonde jokes. “All good things I hope.” Beth places a hand on your shoulder, “Only good things, don’t you worry. Mary is heads over heels for you.” You blush at the words, hearing that Mary talked about you so highly to her friends meant a lot. 

You continue your conversation with Beth, getting to know each other a little better, while Mary heads to the door again. Leah walks in next and greets you with a hug, similar to Beth. “It’s good to meet you, y/n.” You smile at the girl, “Likewise.” Before Mary can sit down, the doorbell rings again. “So, the both of you play for the same club, right?” You ask Beth and Leah, who are now sitting with you on the couch. “Oh yeah, Beth and I go way back.” 

“Y/n!” Ella yells your way, as she rushes to give you a hug. “It’s so good to see you again. We missed you at the game on Sunday.” You heard a chuckle from behind Ella, “You’ve gotta at least let her breathe if you want her to let you know why she wasn’t there.” Ella realises then that she’s still hugging you tightly, ‘Right, sorry, I got too excited.” Alessia stepped forward and gave you a quick hug, “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Alessia. Don’t mind Tooney here, sometimes she forgets that people have lives outside of watching us play football.” The comment earns the girl a playful hit on the arm by none other than Ella herself. 

You were having a blast getting to know your girlfriend's teammates, the girls were very easy to like, and the conversation flowed easily. Alessia helped Mary in the kitchen with cooking, while Leah helped you set the table. Beth and Ella were deep into a discussion that no one was interested in interrupting. 

When the table is set, you walk into the kitchen to check if everything is going well. “You seem tense, darling.” Your hands instantly reach for Mary’s shoulders and you massage them slightly. “I forgot to buy the sauce for the pasta, and we have nothing in the pantry to make sauce with.” She says, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No worries, I will go to the store and get some right away.” You quickly peck her cheek, and head back to the living room. “Hey, I’m heading to the store really quick.” You tell Leah, “Do you want to tag along?” You subtly nod in Beth and Ella’s direction, who are still having a heated discussion. “Yes, please.” The girl jokes back to you.

The trip to the store was short, as the grocery store was right around the corner. You had asked Leah about her family, and she told you all about her little brother that was currently living in Australia. You could tell that she loved her family very much, and it was a joy to listen to her talk about them. The conversation was still going when you had arrived back at Mary's apartment. Leah follows you into the kitchen, so your conversation doesn’t need to stop. “Here you go, darling.” You say as you hand Mary the jar. You give her a quick kiss on her cheek, before you head back to the living room with Leah. 

Mary looks after you with a feeling a way she hadn’t felt before. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was either, so she decided to put her focus back on the food. When Mary and Alessia had plated the food, and set the plates down on the table, you and Leah were still deep in conversation. Of course, you stopped for a moment to thank the girls for the food, and for a quick toast, but you soon fell back into easy conversation with the striker. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mary kept glaring at you and Leah. You were too deep into the conversation to notice the change in her behaviour at first, but when your attention was pulled to the conversations around the table, you noticed that Mary wasn’t really joining in on the conversation. You place your hand down on her thigh, but unlike the usual smile or her hand meeting yours, the gesture was met with a stoic look. You made a mental note to ask her about it later, not wanting to get into anything while her teammates were over. 

The food was amazing, you thanked both Alessia and Mary again for their efforts in the kitchen. Everyone helped clean up, and soon after they were getting ready to head back home. Leah hands you her phone, “Here, put your number in, and I’ll send you those links.” You quickly type in your contact info, before handing her phone back, and hugging her goodbye. You also hug the rest of the girls, and thank everyone for a great night.

You wanted to cuddle up to your girlfriend the moment that the front door closed, but Mary walked away and sat down at the dinner table before you could. Taking a seat beside her, you put your hand on her knee. “What’s going on, darling?” She shrugs, “Why don’t you ask Leah?” Confusion takes over your face. “Why would I ask Leah, what’s going on with you?” You had never seen Mary like this before, and it worried you. “You’re clearly into her as the two of you talked the whole day, and I even saw you exchange phone numbers.”

It started to click for you then. “You’re jealous of Leah?” Her eyes shot up to yours. “Darling, I’ve been talking with Leah because I love you, you goober. I was just trying to get to know your friends. And for the number exchange, we were talking about some places we have travelled to, and she was going to recommend some places, so I could take you there. I’m sorry if it looked differently, darling. I promise that I only have eyes for you.” Mary’s demeanour changed when she realised that her jealousy was misplaced. 

“Oh, thank god.” She exhales and brings you in for a hug. “I was so scared you’d like her more, and that we would be over.” You shake your head. “Never going to happen, I have everything I’ve ever wanted with you by my side.” Hearing those words did Mary good. She connected your lips in a passionate kiss. Her previous jealousy meant that she wanted to show you how much she loved you. 

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#mary earps #mary earps x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #england lionesses #manchester united women #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #ella toone #leah williamson #beth mead #alessia russo

[adriennebarnes]

Little Bit of Food

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N sees a TikTok video of couple where the women serves her partner more food on his plate than on hers. For research purposes, she just wants to see how he would react.

Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammar errors, SHORT

A/N: since I am Mexican and Peruvian, the foods mentioned are typical foods that I grew up eating, I LOVE these foods so much, if any other Latine readers have suggestions of what dishes should be mentioned, comment below and I’ll tag you when I use them in another one shot. Also, sorry if it’s short, I don’t think I can build off a lot of “story material” over a TikTok trend, you know?

Y/N was watching TikTok and she saw a video that was interesting to her.

It was of a couple and a woman served her husband more food on his plate than on her own. The husband insisted that his wife should have more food and that he could eat something later.

Y/N knew that Henry was going to busy at the gym for a few hours so that gave her plenty of time to make one of Henry’s favorite meals that Y/N introduced him to, and that’s bistec a lo pobre. She bought sliced New York steaks from the Mexican grocery store (there’s always a butcher there), also some tortillas and 2 avocados to make guacamole or a sandwich later. When she went back to Henry’s house, she started cutting up tomatoes and onions so it would give the steak flavor. She put the onions and tomatoes aside in a bowl and got out the white rice in the pantry to wash the rice.

Half an hour later, Henry was came through the door sweaty and with a happy Kal.

“Ay hola, Kal, como te fue con tu papi, hm?” Y/N asked, kneeling to pet Kal.

“You call me papi?” Henry asked, drinking water from his sports bottle.

“When I’m talking about you to Kal, yes. Ain’t no way I’m calling you that though, it’s weird because I call my actual dad, papi. So don’t even think about it.” Y/N warned Henry as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink.

“Too late, I’m already thinking about, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her cheek as he hugged her from behind.

“Stop it. I’m making your favorite so please take a quick shower and then I’ll call you when it’s ready. Do you want one or two eggs?” Y/N asked.

“Two please, thanks love.” Henry said, kissing her lips before heading upstairs for his shower.

Y/N began sautéing the onions and tomatoes in the pan before adding in two pieces of steak for Henry, we’ll, one and a half, she cut a half piece for her plate. She got a plate out of the pantry to serve two ‘scoops’ of rice, adding the cooked steaks with tomatoes and onions on top of it, and preceded to fry two eggs on a different pan.

“Toro, food!” Y/N shouted and Kal calming running. “I said ‘toro’, not ‘oso’, you need to practice your Spanish, Kal.” Y/N said and placed Henry’s plate on his side of the table. Henry came running downstairs with his hair wet but he’s dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt.

“Thanks love, it looks amazing.” Henry said, kissing her.

“That’s good, now eat up, you’ve had a long workout.” Y/N said and that’s when she got a smaller plate, served herself a half scoop of rice, her half steak with 3 pieces of tomatoes and onions, and no eggs. When she sat down and said “let’s eat”, Henry looked at Y/N’s plate, then at his own.

“Darling, were you snacking while you were cooking again?” Henry asked, trying to find a reasonable explanation for the lack of food on his girlfriend’s plate.

“No, no, I didn’t snack at all. Eat before the eggs become cold.” Y/N pointed at him with her fork.

“Are you sick? You didn’t have to cook if you weren’t feeling well, love.” Henry said in a concerned voice.

“I’m fine Henry, I went to Fernando’s market today but the steak was too expensive so I only bought 2.” Y/N lied, she buys like half a pound of steak, there’s still 3 or 4 pieces in the fridge. Henry got up and grabbed his keys. “Where are you going?”

“To the market to buy more steak, what cut do you order a again? Med-ee-ya Libra de what?” Henry asked, opening the door,

“No no no, Henry, there’s no need for that, I can survive without bistec, please sit down and eat.” Y/N said, Henry closed the door, put down his keys, and sat back down.

“What about the eggs or the rice? I’m sure you could fill up on that, you told me you ate that when you were younger when there was nothing to eat.” Henry said.

“The last eggs were used on you, Toro. Now please eat before your food gets cold. You want something to drink? I got chicha (It’s a purple corn drink) if you don’t want soda.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, that’s fine, darling.” Henry said, when Y/N walked into the kitchen, Henry switched his plate for Y/N’s. When Y/N came back with chicha for Henry and soda for her, she saw what Henry did.

“Toro! You weren’t supposed to do that. You had a big workout, you’re bigger than me, you need all the protein you can get from this.” Y/N said, trying to switch the plates back but Henry refused.

“Nope, you cooked all this, you deserve to eat your delicious food. I could find something later.” Henry said,

“But you must be hungry, just eat it, I can make myself some potato quesadillas later.” Y/N said, attempting to get the plate back from Henry but he swatted her hand. “Toro!”

“I’m sorry love, but it’s for your good.” Henry said.

“I Don’t want you to be starving,” Y/N said,

“I won’t starve, my love. Watching you enjoy your food is filling enough for me.” Henry said and Y/N’s heart melted. She got out of her seat to sit on Henry’s lag, placing her hands on his neck to hug him.

“Amor, it’s a prank. There’s more steak in the fridge that I can fry up, there’s a lot of rice on the stove and plenty of eggs. Now please eat while I go serve myself more food.” Y/N said getting off him and grabbing her plate to do exactly that.

“You scared me, love. I was about to head over to the market…where is it by the way?” Henry asked,

“Haha, i can’t even tell you, I just know how to get there.” Y/N said, placing her steak in the pan and she watched Henry eat his meal.

“Delicious! This might even be better than your bistec empanado, did I pronounce that right?” Henry asked,

“Yes you did, Toro, but bistec empanado with sopita aguada is comfort food, along with quesadilla de papas, which I will be making tomorrow, I’ve been craving it,” Y/N said.

“That sounds so good, I have to make sure I work out even more. When I made you my girlfriend, I had no idea you would try to fatten me up.” Henry said and Y/N gasped, flipping the steak.

“I would never, how dare you accuse me. I’m gonna make flan for my friend’s birthday on Saturday so I’m gonna make another one just for us.” Y/N said and that made Henry laugh.

“I love your flan, darling. Your cooking skills put mine to shame.” Henry said. Y/N placed her steak on her place, serving more rice, and began frying an egg.

“I was born with that sazón, Toro.” Y/N said teasingly. She finished frying the egg, served it on her plate, and went to sit down. “Better?” Y/n asked, showing Henry her plate.

“Much better, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her. Kal barked. “Yes bear, you can have some steak too.” Henry said,

The End

Taglist: @warriormirkwood

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction

[flowermiist]

A warm heart - Prologue

Click here to read new chapters... ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn’t something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you’d stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 1.k

A/N: So I’m really excited since this is my very first fic... I still haven’t planned it much but I’m already working on the first chapter as I post this!! If you have any suggestions or comments please leave them below. Comments and reblogs are always so welcome and appreciated.

John had gotten back from base two days ago, he had spent nearly three months stuck in Egypt with some CIA members and his SAS team. Time there went slow, it felt like it would never end, most intel they could gather was messy but the missions were successful.

Sitting on his couch and with his already third glass of scotch, John knew his stomach wouldn’t actually settle for alcohol and a cigar – It was too late to go out, most places would already be closed by now – except for some street food carts and dingy local pubs. So now, both his exhaustion of having spent his whole day locked away in his office finishing reports and filling out documents was mixing with his empty stomach and possible upcoming migraines making him way too irritable and tired to even attempt going out and getting something – Not like he was even in the mood to do so.

If this moment had been one of the irritated man’s childhood caricatures, a lightbulb would have gone on above his head as he remembered the few basics he had gotten from the grocery store in the middle of the road on his way home while getting back home from base. The captain let out a deep grunt as he got up from the couch, grabbing the empty glass of scotch and the TV remote to turn it off and walk to his kitchen.

Opening his pantry, he only saw the basics, some canned tomato sauce and a single bag of spaghetti. John sighed as he grabbed those two ingredients and hopes that it would at least taste decent enough not to make his headache worse. Internally cursing himself for not getting more things from the store – not being home for too long did limit a lot of his comfort and meal options when it came to getting back after a long time, buying food that would expire too soon before going to work would only mess up his pantry and fridge.

When it came to cooking, he wasn’t exactly an expert. Yes, he could defend his culinary skills by making a good English breakfast and a cup of tea but besides that? Yeah, no. Yet for some reason, John didn’t want to admit the fact that he had grown too accustomed to the meals he’d get at base or the pickup he’d order whenever he was home. Almost embarrassing that an officer specialized in unconventional warfare or any kind of missions would find it more difficult to cook for himself than to deploy to the most dangerous and broken places on earth.

Luck had jumped out of his window and the spaghetti ended up tasting horrible to say the least – Was it the sauce? Was it expired? Or did John just get horrible at cooking at this point? Too tired to care, the gruff man washed the dishes and went to sleep. This culinary war wasn’t over.

The following morning was busy, the captain went out for a morning jog then continued finishing up the last reports. His house had been too quiet for his own liking because when a man like John Price has gotten too used to the chaos and noise of all the places he deploys to and filled with all kinds of people, being in his own house feels almost surreal. Almost like he doesn’t belong here, like all he can handle are the noises that will not leave him alone with his thoughts eating him alive.

His own perseverance and stubbornness did not allow him to give up when it came to cooking, he was a grown man for crying out loud! No goddamn way he could be able to handle all the things he sees in his line of work but couldn’t handle himself in the kitchen – he thought.

Closing the other tabs on his laptop, he entered YouTube. After searching for basic recipes to challenge himself, he came upon certain channel – “Y/N’s kitchen diaries.”

Not even ten minutes later, he was already taking notes and focusing on every single detail.

John had prepared one of the recipes for dinner after yet another visit to the grocerie store, a less rushed one this time and somewhere that wasn’t in the middle of an isolated road. Meticulously following every single step shown by the woman in the videos – he liked her voice, it wasn’t like one of those annoying cooking shows from TV that would be filled with ads for kitchen tools and nonsense chatter, it even felt as if he had some company with the video – “Here we have our final result.” She spoke softly as she was showing the results, John looked at her video then back at his plate – It looked and smelled good. “As you can see the chicken is juicy and the smoked paprika gives it that extra flavor. Now our broccoli has that chewy yet soft texture, I personally sprinkle some salt on top of it but that is up to your liking.” A small pause before she spoke again, by then, John was already placing the plate on the dining table before grabbing his phone as the young woman spoke the final lines of the video. “Thank you for watching – don’t forget to comment down below if you have any suggestions or any recipes you’d like me to try. Bye Bye!” – The video ended and John had a small smirk on his face, both proud of himself and amused by how well this went. He clicked on the “subscribe” button and left his phone on top of the counter, walking towards the dining table and taking a seat.

The moment you got home, you kicked off your high heels, grunting from the relief as you stomped on the floor a few times – getting that relief of your feet getting accustomed to flat ground again. Putting your purse aside, you make your way towards the kitchen where you open the fridge and take some leftovers from yesterday and place the plate in the microwave – this gives you some time to rush to your bedroom and get your laptop to continue editing one of your videos, a new lasagna recipe you had been improving and recorded a video of.

While making your way out of your bedroom, you hear the little musical alarm of the microwave going off. You wanted to record a little something to start with the next video; yet you knew you didn’t have the enough ingredients to do so and neither did you have the energy to edit and record at the same time, not tonight at least – “Will do it tomorrow…” you mumble to yourself as you open your laptop and set your plate on top of the coffee table of your living room. – “Thereee we go...” you almost moan the moment your body falls down onto the couch, finally getting some rest.

You took some time to check your channel, seeing if there was anything interesting – YouTube was the only platform you uploaded your cooking videos to as you didn’t see it as a big deal but rather a hobby you enjoyed and relaxed with, the rest of your social media was pretty much private and not about your recipes or small food vlogs. Learning how to edit videos by yourself hadn’t been an easy task – but to you, it was worth it as it helped you clear your mind and not seem too crazy while talking to yourself in front of a camera. Before starting to make videos, you talked to yourself while doing tasks, eventually it just came into your mind – Why the hell not? You wouldn’t seem too crazy if you talked to a camera and recorded things for yourself, right? It was a good reason to talk to yourself, not an excuse. Starting your channel had been a rather spontaneous decision you took two years ago with the difference that nowadays, you are more frequent with your content than you were back then.

Sighing in relief, you turn off your laptop since you had finally finished the last details of the video. You were already stripping off your clothes on your way to the bedroom, not caring about tonight’s shower but rather tonight’s rest, you’d do everything tomorrow.

#captain price #john price #call of duty #john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 #captain price x reader #captain price x you #fem!reader #romance #cod x reader

[babyboydaniel]

Dinner (M)

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Smut, some Fluff | Warnings: 18+, PinV, Oral (female receiving), softdom!Daniel | Word Count: 3.5K

Cooking was one of your favorite things to do. It never seemed like a chore, and even after spending your entire day working, you wanted nothing more than to make a delicious homemade meal. Well, besides cuddling up to your pseudo-nomadic boyfriend. So, after getting home and changing into nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties, you set off to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Daniel was supposed to be home in an hour after being gone for a week, and you wanted to ensure you had dinner done by the time he walked through the door.

You pulled out all the necessary ingredients from the pantry and the fridge while your current playlist blasted from the speakers. There was no better pairing to cooking than good music. You sang and danced as you prepped and chopped all the vegetables before tossing them on a pan to roast in the oven before turning your attention elsewhere. You were so focused on dinner that it wasn’t until you felt arms wrapped around your waist that you realized Daniel had come home.

“Hiya babe,” he whispered, gently kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You’re home early,” you commented, setting down the utensils in your hands and snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“The meeting got cut short, thankfully,” he responded, turning you around in his arms. So you were face to face. His hands rested on your lower back. A warm smile pulled at his lips, and his amber eyes swept across your face, filled with nothing but love. A look that you were positive mirrored in your own eyes. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi,” he echoed just as quietly. 

With you still in his arms, Daniel leaned in and placed a delicate kiss against your lips. A kiss that said a lot without either of you saying anything. A kiss filled with adoration and longing. A comforting ‘welcome home.’ Daniel tightened his hold on you as you wrapped your arms around him, playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. You wanted him closer. No, you needed him closer. You craved his touch after being apart, and now that you have it, you do not know how you survived so long without it. You sighed into the kiss and parted your lips, silently asking for more. 

Daniel chuckled as he nipped your bottom lip. A soft moan floated from you before you pulled him back in for more. Daniel brought one of his hands from where it once rested around your frame, gently cupping your jaw, holding you in place while he slipped his tongue past your open lips. You couldn’t help but let him. You allowed him to take control. Soft noises spilled out of you as Daniel’s plump lips captured yours, and his tongue gently danced against yours. The sounds you made encouraged him further. The once delicate grip on your jaw was now more forceful, keeping you exactly where Daniel wanted. Which you were more than happy to oblige. Your boyfriend had this intoxicating way about him. Every kiss left you feeling drunk and lightheaded. It was addicting, and you were not going to deny yourself from being on the receiving end. 

With a tender force, Daniel pushed you back until you were pressed against the cold edge of the counter. His drool-worthy thigh slotted in between your legs. The rough texture of his jeans met your incredibly soft skin and the dampening fabric of your underwear. The feeling was heady. You ground against him, gasping into his mouth, wanting to feel more. Daniel groaned as you writhed in his embrace. The hardness of his trapped cock rested at your hip. Which spurred you on even more. You bucked against him, catching yourself on his thigh and brushing against his member. 

Daniel slowly pulled back, but not before he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You grumbled and pouted as his eyes met yours once again. Desperate to continue the teenage-like dry humping, which you were not above getting off from. But, much to your disappointment, Daniel held you back from getting any more of what you wanted. 

“I should leave more often if that is the welcome home I get,” he laughed breathlessly. As if you did not react this way every time he returned home. 

“Danny, you are gone enough.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” he smirked, his golden honey eyes sparkling.

“If you are gone any more than you already are, we might have a real issue on our hands,” you responded with complete seriousness.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, babe.”

“I am serious, Daniel,” you stated with your hands on your hips while still in Daniel’s arms.

“Oh, I know you are, babe,” he said while he smiled down at you, “but I love how desperate you get when I am not around.”

“I am not desperate,” you huffed.

Daniel just smirked as if he did not believe you. His fingers slowly began to trace around your hip, giving it a light squeeze as he continued to the top of your thigh. His fingers toyed with the lace there, barely touching you. But it was enough for you to ache for more. Your breathing became shallow, which caused your lover to chuckle under his breath, pleased with your response to his touch. Daniel leaned down, placing his lips against your neck, gently kissing and biting at your pulse point. Moans tumbled from your mouth, and your hips jerked towards his featherlike touch. He snickered as you silently begged for more.

“So, you are telling me if I dipped my fingers in between your thighs, you won’t be wet?” he enquired while slowly running a finger up and down your clothed slit.

“Yeah,” you responded breathlessly.

That is all it took for Daniel to dip his fingers into your panties. It did not take long for him to figure out you were lying. He ran his fingers between your folds, collecting your juices before gently circling your clit. Forcing you to gasp and weave your fingers in his curly hair while he continued to bite at your neck. 

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Daniel continued to rub your clit, seeming to move slower and slower, teasing you. Which was one of his favorite pastimes. You rocked your hips against his hand, hoping to get more. Daniel clicked his tongue against his teeth while he shook his head. He brought his face up to meet yours again; a look of faux disappointment cloaked his features. Daniel pulled his hands from where they resided between your legs and brought them up to your lips. His fingers glistened with your essence as he forced them past your swollen lips, tasting yourself on him. You sucked on his fingers with no hesitation. You moaned as he pressed them further into your warm and wet mouth while meeting Daniel’s heated gaze. Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from your mouth and placed a gentle slap on your desperate pussy.

“Liar,” he laughed. 

“Daniel,” you cried, trying to chase after his touch.

With that stupid smirk that had not left his face, Daniel gripped your hips tight, forcing you to keep still, “What do you want, babe?”

“You,” you moaned while looking up at him. Giving him your most intense ‘fuck me eyes’ that you could muster. 

Daniel shifted his gaze to the ceiling, pretending to contemplate his next decision, “I will think about it.”

Then his arms were no longer on your body. He gently removed your fingers, which were locked in his curls, and put them down by your sides while he stepped away from your body. The warmth immediately left you as goosebumps rose on your skin. You whined as he winked at you as he walked away. He could be so cruel sometimes. In your opinion, he found too much enjoyment in playing with you. 

As he left you standing in the kitchen, Daniel went off to find the perfect bottle of wine to go with dinner as if you did not affect him. He hummed along to the song that played over the speakers while he debated over two bottles of wine. Eventually, Daniel settled on a Cabernet Sauvignon and brought it back to the kitchen where you were still standing. He got down two glasses and poured you both a healthy amount before leaning against the counter, sipping the wine as if he did not just leave you on edge. Daniel began to tell you about his day. He rambled on about different topics. Including the planned improvements to the car and the promotional events he will have to attend at the upcoming race. One that you are excited to be in attendance for. You tried to focus on what he was saying, but all you could pay attention to was the wetness between your legs.

It was during a brief pause while he was going on about updates his engineer gave him that you interrupted his monologue, “Daniel, are you seriously just going to leave me like this?”

Daniel cocked his head as if he was confused, “Like what, darling?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you grumbled.

“I am not. I just don’t know what you are talking about. I’ll need you to explain it to me,” Daniel said as he sipped his wine. His eyes never leave yours.

You swore under your breath if Daniel was going to be like that, fine. Two can play that game. You were not above being a brat about it. So, instead of giving him the satisfaction of telling him how much you wanted his touch, you turned to check on the food in the oven. You slowly bent over, causing the bottom of your shirt to reveal your delicate underwear beneath. The growing wet patch is evident between your legs. Daniel growled as you did so. Not as unaffected as he let on. Everything looked fine, so you stood back up, your attention returning to your boyfriend. His eyes lustfully followed your every move. You took your place against the opposite counter as you met Daniel’s stare. His intense gaze made you feel exposed and completely bare. 

“Dinner should only take about another 35 minutes,” you stated as Daniel continued to watch you. 

Daniel murmured an acknowledgment before setting his glass down behind him. He pushed away from the counter. In a couple of strides, he crowded in your space. The musk of his cologne filled your nostrils and caused your mouth to water. Everything about him tantalized you. He curled his hand around your neck, his thumb pressed to the hinge of your jaw. With a bruising force, he pressed his lips against yours. His tongue immediately forced its way past your closed mouth. It was forceful and dirty, just how you liked it. As fast as it happened, his lips were no longer on yours. Daniel pulled back, lips slick with your spit and hunger in his eyes. 

“That gives me enough time to do this,” Daniel stated as he sank to his knees at your feet.

He glanced up at you from his position on the floor. His doe-like eyes filled with nothing but lust and desire, a carnal need to have you. His slender fingers slid up your legs, gripping at the meat of your full thighs until they met the lacy edge of your underwear that rested there. With one last look up to you, a swipe of his tongue against his lips, Daniel pressed his nose against your damp-covered mound. Taking in your scent before he ran his tongue against the material there. The light pressure against your clit forced your hips forward. Your fingers found their way back to his hair. His tongue slowly trailed up and down your covered slit, teasing you. You moaned as you ground against his beautiful nose. Desperate for Daniel to give you more. 

Encouraged by the sounds he pulled from you, Daniel yanked your soaked panties from your legs. The cold air hits your dripping lips. Daniel sat back on his heels, taking a moment to admire your clear desire for him before returning his mouth to where you needed it most. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder as he licked the wetness that leaked out of you. His nose brushed your clit as he worked you open with his tongue. You humped his face as you tightened your grip on his unruly locks. He worked his mouth up to that magical bundle of nerves that would undoubtedly have you falling apart in no time. Sucking and gently biting there. Daniel groaned as he brought you more and more pleasure. The noises that fell from your mouth were sinful, and you chanted his name as if it were a prayer. His hands clutched the swell of your ass as he brought you impossibly closer. 

“Daniel,” you moaned as you felt yourself rapidly approaching the edge. The rocking of your hips increased as you whined. Your actions only encouraged Daniel on more, eating you out like a man starved.  

“I’m going to come,” you panted, your skin sticky with sweat.

Just as you were about to give in to your orgasm, Daniel pulled back from your pussy. His stubble and lips are covered in you, shimmering under the kitchen lights. A wicked smirk painted his face. 

You groaned, your head thrown back in frustration as you attempted to follow his touch. Daniel smacked your thigh. He gently ran his fingers over your folds, spreading your arousal around as if entranced by how responsive you were to his touch. If he had it his way, he would spend hours in between your legs eating you out. Something that you would be in support of. His expert fingers kept you on the brink of desire but not enough to make the jump. The uncontainable moans continued to fall from your lips. You just needed more.  

With slick fingers, Daniel plunged into your heat. The squelch of your wetness rang out as you yelped. Daniel slowly slipped his fingers out of you before fucking them back into you. Fucking you with his fingers at an agonizing snail's pace. Your breath came in gasps. You pushed against his fingers to prompt Daniel to move faster. Couldn’t he see how much you needed him? Your actions did nothing to encourage him to increase his speed. Instead, he used his free to grasp your hip, halting your movements. 

“Behave,” he ordered, looking up at you, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. Biting your lips, you nodded. 

Pleased with your obedience, Daniel returned to thrust his fingers into you. The obscene wet sound mixed with the forgotten music playing faded in the background. Filthy is how you would describe it. It turned you on even more. Then his mouth was back on you, accompanied by his fingers that were deep inside you. Moaning against your clit while his fingers continued to brush against your G-spot. The vibrations from Daniel’s enjoyment caused you to squeal as you pushed his face deeper into your pussy. Your orgasm was once again closing in on you. 

Daniel pulled back a fraction, pausing from devouring you, “You close, baby girl?” he asked. Though he knew your body well enough to know you were. 

“Mmhmm,” you panted. Fucking against his unrelenting fingers and mouth.

“You want to come?”

You moaned in agreement, unable to form words at this point. Too far gone in pleasure.

“Use your words,” he demanded.

You groaned. Daniel loved hearing you admit that you needed to come, making you beg for what you wanted. In your opinion, he just enjoyed having his ego stroked. 

“Yes, Danny. I want to come. Please let me come,” you begged.

Pleased with your response, Daniel doubled his efforts. Pumping his wicked fingers in and out of your sopping cunt while he sucked on your clit. It was only a couple of seconds longer before you were cumming around his fingers. His tongue lapped up the juices that seeped from you, moaning as he tasted you. You sobbed, with your eyes screwed shut and your head tossed back.  Your grip on Daniel’s hair was so tight you were convinced it must have been painful, but he did not complain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted as you came down, slowly riding Daniel’s face.

Coming down from your high, Daniel placed a delicate kiss against your folds before gently placing your leg back on the ground and standing up. His face lit up with one of his signature smiles, pleased with himself. You responded with a satisfied smile of your own. He brought your face up to meet his, kissing you so you could taste yourself on him, which was addictive. You sucked on his bottom lip as you cleaned yourself from him, moaning into his mouth. You pulled back from him, slinging your arms over his shoulders. Daniel dipped down and kissed your collarbone, sucking at the skin there. He slowly worked his way up your neck while his fingers trailed along your sides. His thumbs ghosted over your hardened nipples when he reached the swell of your breasts. You pressed your chest further into his touch as you whimpered. Daniel pressed his lips to your ear, his tongue flicking out to lick the shell of your ear. His body pressed completely against yours. You could not get any closer if you tried.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Daniel crooned.

Before you could respond, he turned you around and had you bent over the counter. The chill of the countertop leaching through your thin shirt. An enticing contrast to your heated skin. He pushed your shirt up over your hips, where it gathered around your waist. You heard the sound of his zipper sliding down then you felt the head of his cock rub against your wet pussy. Pleasure spread over your body like wildfire as Daniel’s cock caught your clit as he covered himself in your release. Thankfully, he only teased you for a couple of seconds. Then he was pressing deep inside of you. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as you echoed his sentiment. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he pulled back out and slowly fucked back into you. Somehow fucking you at a much slower pace than he fingered you. You needed more. You pushed back against him as he fucked into you. The sound of your skin slapping together reverberated in the space. Daniel leaned down and whispered dirty things to you as he increased his pace. Telling you how beautiful you are when you take his cock, and how your pussy was made for him, that you were his and only his. Your cunt squeezed around his hard cock in response, causing his hips to stutter, and a groan fell from his lips. You could tell that he was getting close, that he was selfishly chasing his orgasm, which you didn’t mind. You were there for him to use. You were there to please him. You were his. Though you were back on the edge yourself. His dick relentlessly pressed against your g-spot. A knot began to form in your stomach. You reached a hand in between your legs, and you rubbed your clit as Daniel continued to thrust into you.

“I’m going to come again,” you moaned.

“Fuck, baby girl. Come for me, come with me,” Daniel panted.

It was with a couple more thrusts that you forcefully came all over his cock. Your juices squirted down your legs and hit the floor, soaking the front of Daniel's pants that he was still wearing. Seeing you release all over him was enough to set Daniel off. He fucked his cock balls-deep into you, filling you to the hilt while he pumped his cum in you. Thick ropes of his cum coating your drenched walls. His fingernails bite into the soft flesh of your hips, and your name repeatedly gasps from his lips. As he slowly came down from his orgasm, Daniel shallowly fucked into you before slowly pulling out of you. Immediately missing the stretch of him filling you up, your pussy clenched around nothing as Daniel’s cum slid out from inside of you, mingling with your juices. Daniel was quick to catch it with his fingers and forced it back into your cunt. You whined as he did so, still sensitive. He bent down to pick up your discarded underwear from the floor and had you step into them.

He turned you around and pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering, “We don’t want any of that to leak out.”

He lightly patted your pussy, laughing to himself. You leaned up to kiss him. As your lips met his, the alarm for dinner went off, scaring you both. You laughed.

“I guess it is time for dinner,” you said as you moved out of your lover’s arms.

Daniel licked his lips, “Lucky me, I got to have my dessert before dinner.”

You groaned at his remark as you bent to open the oven door. 

Daniel laughed, one of those genuine trademark Daniel Ricciardo laughs as he smacked your ass and exited the kitchen to change before eating. 

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 smut #f1 imagine

[sinfulpanda16]

Cramps

Bakugou x fem reader x Kirishima

When you're on your period how do your boyfriends treat you

Your boyfriends baby you a lot more when you're on your period. Kiri has always been really supportive and doting when you were on your period, but it took Katsuki a while for him to get to that stage.

They're really loving. They give you massages, do your household chores for you while you stay in bed, serve you food in bed, and cuddle you. Sometimes one of them stays with you while the other one goes to buy your pad/tampons and favorite snacks. Neither of them have any shame, they know what they're doing, and they love you. Whatever makes baby happy.

Cramps are pretty common. Kirishima gets so sad seeing you suffering and knowing that this happens to you on a basis. Katsuki hates seeing you hurt and if cramps were a person, he would destroy them! Unfortunately, this is one of those times when you have the worst cramps of the year.

Kirishima and you come home early from hero work and as you two walk in your apartment Kiri is already picking you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

You groan in pain you've been cramping like this all day at work. They didn't start until midday at work, had they started earlier Kirishima and Bakugou would have just forced you to stay at home.

Kirishima upon hearing you holds you closer to his chest "Shhh its ok baby. I've got you." he says giving you a kiss on your forehead.

You smile "Thank you Kiri" you say lovingly and nuzzle into his chest.

You arrive to the room and Kirishima sets you down on the bed. He turns on the TV and asks what you want to watch and puts on whatever it is you want. He quickly goes the pantry to get snacks and then comes back to take care of you.

Everything was going well for that hour. He was holding you, occasionally feeding you your favorite chips and then suddenly you feel the biggest stab in your crotch area. You yelp and Kirishima gets worried "Baby! Are you alright?"

You try to smile and tell him "Yeah. Don't worry love. I'm alright." your voice being a little shaky which makes Kiri pout.

He goes in to kiss your lips and then says "Aww my love its ok. I'll be here the whole time holding you. Ok baby?" You smile and respond "Ok". God how cute can your boyfriend get?

You both enjoy that little moment and hear something at the bedroom door causing you both to turn to see. Bakugou is standing there looking at you with concern on his face.

"Cramps baby?" Bakugou asks not breaking eye contact with you. You only let out a weak "yeah" and nuzzle Kirishima's chest again.

Alright that's it, Bakugou doesn't even change out of his hero outfit he only takes off his bracers and heads to the kitchen to cook you your favorite food. He cooks a little impatient, he just wants to hurry up and take your food to you so you can feel better. Time later he finishes and can finally bring your food to you.

He enters the bedroom and see's Kirishima still holding you with the blanket around both of you. Bakugou sits next to you both and talks to you "Here baby. You need to eat." he says, and you see he made (f/f) causing you bounce in excitement. Kiri awes at your cuteness and Bakugou smiles softly at it. Katsuki begins to feed you. It tastes amazing, your boyfriend has always been a natural chef. He continues feeding you and also feeds Kirishima a bit and then soon you finish eating.

Later that night after all of you got cleaned together (Bakugou and Kirishima taking care of you the whole time) the three of you head to bed. Bakugou gives you your pain relief pill and Kiri holds your water ready for you. They watch you swallow your pill like a champ and congratulate you. You boyfriends are so cute and caring, what did you do to deserve them?

You were the middle spoon that night, they gave you your goodnight kiss and you theirs. They fell asleep content knowing you were feeling better.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima #bnha x reader #mha x reader #kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #kirishima x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #kirishima fluff #bakugou x kirishima #bnha x you #my hero academia #boku no hero

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

(cw: mentions of losing a close family member)

König doesn’t really know how to cook.

Well, anything other than the basics… Most of his meals consist of rice, meat and some kind of vegetable. Or like a carton of eggs. And of course, he can warm up meals and cook pasta and put pesto on it. But working in the military his whole life, he never really had the need to learn to prepare something to eat other than those basics, because most of the meals were provided and he’ll eat any- and everything. When he’s on leave, he cycles through his staples and also orders a lot of take-out, just to satisfy the calorie intake he needs at his size.

His grandma used to cook for him, ever since he was a little boy and then when he returned to Austria as an adult, she always made sure to prepare his favourite meals. He hasn’t been back ever since her funeral, he tells me while he gets some ingredients out of the fridge. Eggs, milk and butter. He misses her and her cooking, but that’s just how it is in life. Flour from the pantry. Mixing it all together, eyeballing the measurements, and adding a pinch of salt.

She taught him how to make Palatschinken. Thin pancake or crepe-like sheets of dough that he apparently made too much of. Rolled up, filled with jam and powdered sugar on top.

“Pala- what?”, I ask, wanting him to teach me how to say the word properly.

“Pa-la-tschin-ke.”, he repeats, sounding the syllables out, and I imitate them, until he tells me that I’ve got it.

I sit at the cooking island in his kitchen, on one of the chairs, and watch him pour the thin dough into the hot buttered pan. It bubbles and sizzles as he swirls it around, until the whole bottom is covered. Waiting for it to be cooked from one side. He lifts the edges with a spatula to make sure. Then he looks at me, raising his brows, like ‘Look at me, look what I can do’, lifting the pan of the hob, holding it in front of his body.

Oh, oh, that won’t- He flips it with a rehearsed flick of his wrist, the thin pancake rotating in the air for just a moment, then landing in the pan again.

I coo, clapping excitedly. He bows jokingly, with the pan still in his hand.

When it’s done, he puts the Palatschinke on a plate, spreads apricot jam on the thin dough, rolls it up and then sprinkles powdered sugar over it, setting the sweet roll in front of me. Gesturing me to eat.

I dig in, cutting it, and the fluffy dough almost melts on my tongue, the sweet jam spreading in my mouth as I chew. God damn it, that’s good. Simple, but very tasty. I finish the first one in record time and he puts the next Palatschinke on my plate. I fill it myself, devouring that one as well. He starts to make more, stacking them on a separate plate.

“You wanna try to make one as well?”, he asks me then.

I nod excitedly and get up from the stool. He hands me the pan and the ladle, putting some more butter onto the hot teflon, and I add the dough. When it’s cooked through, I try to do the flip just like he did. The little crepe flops up a bit and then folds in on itself. I burst into laughter and he joins in. Well, that didn’t go as planned.

“Don’t worry, that happened to me a lot of times.”, he says, scrapping the dough into the bin. “We’ll try again.”

So, the same spiel again. Until the Palatschinke is ready to be flipped. He’s standing behind me, we’re both gripping the handle of the pan and he’s looking over my shoulder, coaching me through it.

“Mit Gefühl.”, he tells me. “Carefully, but with determination.”

“I wanted to flip this thing, not get a lecture on how to enter some-“, I quip, but I get cut off when he playfully pinches my butt cheek.

It makes me jump up a bit and I bat his hand away. “König!”, I yelp, with pretend indignation, but he only grins down at me.

“Come on, you can do it.”, he says, nudging the pan in my hand.

“On three. One, two, three!”, I count down and then we flip it, together. The piece of dough rotates in the air and lands in the pan again.

“First authentically self-made Palatschinke.”, he says, with joking solemnity, as he drops it onto my plate. I do the rest of the steps and then eat it as well.

He makes Palatschinke after Palatschinke, telling me some more about his grandma and the dishes she used to cook, until all of the dough is gone. I listen to him and eat a whole bunch of them until I’m so full, I feel like I’m gonna burst. He finishes the rest of the thin pancakes, decimating a whole stack of them with lots of jam and sugar.

“The rest we can cut into small strips and put into soup.”, he explains.

“Into soup?!”, I question what he just said.

“Yes, Frittatensuppe. It’s really delicious.”, he says like it’s a normal thing.

I shake my head. Those Austrians and their weird dishes.

If you wanna try and make your own Palatschinken like metalhead!könig and reader, I got a recipe for you! Enjoy! a/n: this is the start of a little series I'm doing for mh!k x reader because I have so many scenes (some already finished a while ago like this one) that don't have a certain place in the plot and are just sitting in my word document, left to rot, so i'm gonna post them as their own random scenes that are still connected to them! some of it is gonna be sfw comfort fluff like this one, some is gonna be nsfw - stay tuned <3 Wanna get to know them better? Find more chapters in the Masterlist

#metalhead!könig #spending time with mh!k #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

[namecantbeblank]

deathduo family/pissa nation I see you, I hear you, and I sympathize with u. i offer some headcanons to further your copium in these dark days. to be honest, it was between this and angst headcanons for them 💀 let me know if you want those too

- Missas absence has done little to affect Phil or his relationship with him. As an immortal or extremely old being himself, especially one who works for the god of death, he is unaffected by the amount of time he's been away. A couple months away means nothing in the great scheme of things.

- Phil sings some of the songs Missa first sang to Chayanne, albeit badly, as lullabies often. He's attempted to play Missas guitar with the help of Wilbur, but it's never gone quite right.

- Before Chayanne learned to cook from Missa, in the early days Missa would cook for the other two. Since Missa is a skeleton and more active at night, Phil would often fall asleep to the sounds and smells of cooking, and wake up to a fridge stocked with meals for the day. When Missa came back briefly, Phil woke up to an overflowing fridge and pantry from Chay + Missas cooking adventures.

- Missa would never share his recipes with Phil, telling him it was a secret, but the one thing he showed him was how to up his avocado toast game. Phil became obsessed with this recipe and still tries to perfect it, but Missa seems to have a magic touch with this sort of thing.

- When Phil and Missa first started living together, Phil realized his husband is cringefail at living in the overworld. So there was a lot of hurt/comfort and teasing over this. Phil, being the more experienced overworld death practitioner, had to give Missa lessons on how to survive in the overworld, what's poisonous and what's not, etc. In turn, Missa told him stories and taught him songs, how to skip rocks and make the best paints out of natural resources.

- Phil got Missa a cat after hearing about what happened with his first one (When Spreen killed it for a deal w the devil), which he took with him when he left.

- There's an inside joke between Phil and Chayanne involving Missas protectiveness over Chay. "Missa would have a heart attack if he saw you doing that", etc

- I have a headcanon that along with the tickets, each pair also got something that links them to the other. Jewelry, etc. Tldr, the items can lead them to one another and can give insights on how the other is doing, based on it glowing or something. For Phil and Missa, I like to think they got matching earrings. With the distance and time between them, the connection is weaker, but Phil often wakes up to it flickering light, an indication that Missa is still thinking about him.

#pissa #qsmp #qsmp headcanon #blank rambles #qsmp philza #qsmp missa #deathduo #qsmp chayanne

[simplepotatofarmer]

seconds

a short (1,089 words) rivals duo fic about food as love and friendship for @sixteenth-day-event's love month.

Dream didn’t cook.

He had lived on golden apples and pieces of beef that could only charitably be called ‘steak’ and ‘cooked’ and then later he had lived on potatoes, raw and mealy. It had taken months to get the taste out of his mouth. Months of Techno encouraging him to eat until Dream was able to keep down more than a few bites at a time.

It had to be frustrating. Dream had been frustrated, knowing that he needed to eat and knowing his stomach and mind would rebel against it. There had been times he had lashed out and had swept the dish off the table and Techno had rolled his eyes and called him a toddler and a baby and cleaned up the mess.

And he still cooked for Dream, despite it all.

This is so stupid, thought Dream with a groan.

He gripped the edge of the counter and looked down. Half the ingredients of Techno’s pantry sat out: carrots, mushrooms, onions, even potatoes. There were herbs that Dream didn’t know but had passed his sniff test and raw beef that he had dug out of the ice chest.

He had no idea what he was doing.

If Techno was here, Dream would ask him but he was out all day with Phil doing something that was supposed to be secret but Dream knew about anyway because Techno talked and, besides, this was meant to be a surprise.

“How—How hard can it be?” Dream asked the empty kitchen, trying to hype himself up. Outside, the sun was just a little below the halfway point in the sky. “It’s just fucking vegetables and shit in water.”

It was a lot harder than Dream thought.

His hands shook trying to chop the vegetables evenly, the missing fingers making it hard to grip the knife properly and there was one moment where his hand slipped and he grazed his finger, a tiny drop of blood welling up, and Dream had to sit down until he stopped feeling as if his head was full of static. But he had done it.

He had chopped the vegetables (even the potatoes) and then had cut the meat into chunks and had to stop himself from thinking about how easily a person could be carved up. As soon as he was done, Dream had tossed the knife into the sink and refused to look at it again.

Wiping his sleeve across his forehead, Dream began to season his stew. He smelled each herb, tasted some of the spices, dumped a little too much salt into the water and scrambled to scoop what he could out and then tried to mask it with a little more pepper and rosemary. He found dandelion greens and added those, too.

It didn’t taste anything like the stews that Techno made. Dream frowned.

He needed something.

In the back of Techno’s pantry, there was a dusty bottle of beetroot wine, labeled with Phil’s handwriting. That would work. Dream carefully scooped out some more of the water and then poured in half the wine. He added more herbs and spices but stayed away from the salt.

It still wasn’t right and Dream went to the ice chest and pulled out the butter and added a chunk.

Then he put the lid on the pot and let it simmer until Techno got home.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Steam rose off the bowl of stew sitting in front of Techno.

Across the table, Dream was watching him intently, his own bowl untouched, hand on the spoon, waiting for Techno to take the first bite.

“Y’know, you really didn’t have to do this, Dream,” said Techno, stirring the stew a bit.

“Yeah, I know but—but you always cook and I thought—I wanted to cook for...” Dream trailed off, shifting in his seat, finally looking away. “Whatever.”

Techno smiled.

“Nah, I appreciate it, man,” he said. “It looks good.”

That wasn’t a complete lie: the vegetables were clearly painstakingly cut into chunks all of a similar size as was the meat and the broth had a hearty, deep red color to it. Unfortunately, it colored almost everything with a reddish-purple tint to it but that was fine.

It certainly looked better than it smelled because it smelled like Techno’s entire spice rack had been dumped into the pot.

But Dream visibly perked up at his words.

“Yeah? I mean, I didn’t have, like, a recipe or anything.”

I can tell, thought Techno. He said, “Listen, Dream, the secret to cookin’ is you’ve got to cook from the heart, alright?”

A blush, pink and splotchy, colored Dream’s cheeks.

“Ugh. Just—Just eat the stupid stew,” said Dream, not moving to pick up his own spoon.

Techno took a bite.

It wasn’t awful though Techno would have never called it good. There was an odd lack of salt and an even odder mix of herbs and spices, not all of which went together, and a buttery taste that he wasn’t expecting. The beetroot wine was a bit overpowering.

He took another bite.

“Is it—is it alright?”

There was an eagerness on Dream’s face, nervousness in his voice, as he watched Techno.

Techno hadn’t been lying when he said the secret was to cook from the heart. The fact Dream had gone out of his way to cook anything when food had been such a sticking point for him, the fact he had willingly used potatoes when there had been a point he would gag at the mere sight of them, meant something.

It meant a lot.

Techno took another bite, bigger than the first two, and spoke around the mouthful.

“It’s amazin’. You wanna do all the cookin’ from now on?”

Dream scoffed but the blush had deepened and a pleased sort of relief had settled on his features. It softened some of the harshness left behind from the prison.

“Hell no.”

“I’m teasin’ you, Dream,” Techno said, still eating.

Dream pushed his spoon around his own bowl. He was quiet for awhile as Techno ate.

“Yeah—Well, to be—to be fair, you do all of the cooking and I know I’m a pain in the ass,” he said, finally, and finally lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth. Dream’s features twisted in disgust. “This is fucking awful.”

Techno snorted, reaching across the table to pat Dream’s hand.

“I don’t mind.”

One of Dream’s eyebrows jerked upwards.

“Really?”

“Really.” Techno pushed his chair to back to stand. “Now, I’m gonna get another bowl.”

#technoblade #dreamwastaken #rivals duo #dsmp fanfic #dream smp #rivalsblr #sixteenthdayevent #disordered eating mention

[suzukiblu]

currently having EMOTIONS abt your 'Billy adopts kon and it goes p good actually'. Billy's there just like oh man I'm rambling they're gonna think I'm so lame...meanwhile I as a reader (and presumably also Kon and possibly the other characters present??) are actually going 'oh my god. oh my god he's known Kon for like one singular minute and already arranged a flat according to his best predictions of Kon's needs/wants, gave Kon FIRST PICK OF BEDROOM, and has freely offered to learn how to cook AND how to drive for the sole purpose of taking better care of Kon'. like. oh my god. oh my god. Billy is so precious and I want to give him a hug. I hope Kon isn't too overwhelmed or suspicious due to Billy's enthusiasm tho lmao. (pls could there be..more? more Billy adopts kon, if possible?) anyway I love ur writing. thank you. idk how to ask from a sidelong but this is tryingahandinholdingapen btw :D

I gotchu, friend, lol. @tryingahandinholdingapen But yeah I love a good unreliable narrator, one way or the other it's just so fun peppering in all the bits of "the actual situation that the narrator is oblivious to", hahaha.

Rich people are weird, Billy decides, then sets the swiss rolls and zebra cakes and rest of the strawberry shortcakes on the counter in case Kid Flash is still hungry or Superboy wants any of them and closes the pantry. Batman’s just doing his best, he guesses. Though Billy hopes he knows how to coupon, if he’s always buying brand-name. 

Well, he’s Batman. It’d be weirder if he didn’t know how to coupon, Billy figures.

It looks like Superboy ate all of his snack cake while Billy and Kid Flash were in the pantry, at least, which Billy hopes means he liked it. He doesn’t know how much real food Superboy’s had, but Batman’d said he should be fine eating solid stuff and not just whatever he’d been getting in his cloning pod. Though Billy’d still asked if they could get some bottled smoothies and protein shakes and stuff like that to keep in the fridge, just in case. He figured those might be easier for him to eat and digest, if it came up. Or like, maybe appeal to him more, if nothing else? 

Billy has no idea, honestly, he’s just doing his best here. The wisdom of Solomon is pretty useful but it’s not really, like, that much of a parenting guide. 

He is not going to cut Superboy in half. Like, ever. Like he understands the idea of that story but also it is an insane and incredibly freaky story and he is just not invoking it, ever. Just no way.

“If it’s alright, Captain, we should get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive to get home,” Mrs. West says, then sighs as Kid Flash empties the boxes of swiss rolls and zebra cakes in lightning-fast succession, though he leaves the strawberry shortcakes alone. Billy checks in the fridge and offers him a couple of the more filling smoothies–peanut butter and banana should be more filling, anyway, even with a speedster’s appetite. He steals those from convenience stores sometimes, when he can. He can’t be Captain Marvel all the time. 

Well–maybe he could, he guesses. But he does miss being himself, sometimes.

“Thanks, man,” Kid Flash says eagerly, then immediately shotguns both smoothies. 

“Wally,” Mr. West says in exasperation as Mrs. West sighs again. “Don’t eat Captain Marvel out of house and home.” 

“It’s okay, we’ve got lots of food!” Billy promises cheerfully. “I work with Flash, I know how hungry he gets. I bet it’s way worse when you still have growth spurts to get through.” 

“It is so much worse,” Kid Flash mutters vehemently, eyeing the empty smoothie bottles in his hands accusingly. Billy gets him another peanut butter banana one on principle. He really doesn’t want Kid Flash to be that hungry. It’s . . . not a good feeling. 

“We appreciate it, Captain, really, but we’ve got snacks and a cooler in the car,” Mrs. West says. 

“Oh, good,” Billy says, relieved. Mr. and Mrs. West both give him strange, inscrutable looks, then glance back to Superboy. Billy wonders if he likes peanut butter banana smoothies. Though if he liked the snack cakes, there’s strawberry banana ones too, so that might be better? And strawberry kiwi, but that’s probably less filling. “Superboy, do you want a smoothie too?” 

“No,” Superboy says. Billy pauses again, then gets him a strawberry banana one and tosses it over. Superboy catches it, eyes it, and then opens it and takes a sip.

Okay, Billy thinks he’s getting the hang of this. But also they should probably talk about how “no” needs to actually mean “no”. Like, for Superboy he’s sure it’s just like that phase when toddlers want to say “no” to everything no matter what, but it’s still important for him to understand. Billy doesn’t want to accidentally upset him or overstep because Superboy doesn’t know how to really say “no” to something.

Yeah, they definitely need to talk about that, he decides.

#tryingahandinholdingapen #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good! #long post

[cordeliawhohung]

Liquid Smooth [3]

main masterlist | series masterlist

bodyguard!Gaz x fem!model!Reader

it wasn't a waste

warnings: not a whole lot! mentions of blood, a little less bodyguard and a bit more husband material, somewhat mutual pining, some fluff and soft moments with gaz, reader is mad lonely

wc: 4.6k

As it turns out, sleeping with your head resting on the armrest of a couch was not the most comfortable thing in the world, and the kink in your neck reminded you of your unfortunate miscalculation. You woke with a groan as you stiffly lifted your body from the couch. Eyes still blurred with sleep, you glanced around Kyle’s living room as the events of the previous night flooded your memory. 

The break in. How he hugged you. Laying in his bed. Wandering out into the living room. Falling asleep listening to him talk. 

You groaned again as you rubbed the back of your neck, attempting to melt away the knot that formed there overnight. Kyle was nowhere to be found in the living room, but you could hear some sort of rustling coming from the hallway. 

Adjusting your nightshirt, you stood from the couch and began to shuffle down the hallway where you found Kyle in the kitchen. It was a quaint room with a simple oven and limited counter space, but it was completely spotless. He stood with his back turned to you as he rummaged through the pantry, but he must have heard you coming as he quickly turned to face you with a smile. 

“Mornin’ love. Sleep well?” he asked.

You gave him a tired smile before self consciously trying to pat your hair down. Normally, you were a very put together person, always needing to look good for the cameras. But at that moment, you were certain you looked like the world’s hottest mess. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you said awkwardly. 

There was something so exposing about your situation. Perhaps you hadn’t minded it too much the night before due to the adrenaline, but standing in someone else’s home with nothing but the clothes on your back felt odd. Like you now owed a debt just for existing in someone’s space. 

“Figured I’d cook something up for you,” Kyle said as he continued his search throughout his kitchen. “Eggs, toast, that sorta thing.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that,” you assured him. 

“I know,” he responded as he tossed a bagged loaf of bread on the counter, “but I’m not sending you home with an empty stomach. I imagine you’ll already have enough to deal with today, after everything that happened last night.”

You sighed in defeat, both from realizing Kyle was giving you more than he should, and at the thought of having to sort through the logistics of your home. 

“God, I don’t even want to think about that,” you groaned. “We’ll have to check cameras, and I’m sure the police will want a more detailed report. Then I’ve gotta find someone to replace the window. And I’ve already got…”

You trailed off as you felt an odd tightening in your chest. With wide eyes, you quickly glanced around the room, scanning the walls for something. 

“What time is it?” you asked. 

Pausing, Kyle brought his wrist up where he looked at his watch. It was thick, but sat perfectly on the inside of his wrist. 

“Around seven forty,” he said. 

A choked laugh left you as you rubbed at your eyes. A sour feeling started to rise in your throat, and Kyle paused in his pursuit of breakfast to watch you with careful eyes. 

“That a no on breakfast, then?” he quipped half jokingly. 

“I’m supposed to be at a shoot in twenty minutes,” you sighed. “It’s downtown. Fuck I’m gonna be so late…”

“Brunch it is, then,” Kyle hummed as he tossed the bread back into the pantry. “Come on, I’ll drive you.” 

Panicked, you looked down at yourself. The nightshirt and shorts you wore were comfortable last night, but you certainly couldn’t go out looking like that. You had forgotten all about your shoot for that day, so you didn’t even bother to pack an overnight bag, or set your alarm for that matter. 

“I hate to ask this of you, but…”

“Of course,” Kyle butted in, as if reading your mind. 

He slipped across the hallway and into his bedroom where he quickly sorted through his dresser. In no time he had a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt in your arms. A seed of guilt began to eat away at your stomach for taking up more of Kyle’s time, but you pushed that feeling down as much as you could as you slipped into the bathroom to change.  

Kyle Garrick had some long fucking legs, and as you slipped his sweats on, you nearly tripped on all the extra fabric at your feet. His torso wasn’t much better either, and in order to control the cloth, you ended up shoving it into the waistband of the sweats. 

Sighing, you exited the bathroom where you found Kyle shuffling around in the living room. He appeared to be trying to change and gather items at the same time, as the zipper and belt of his pants were wide open while he picked up his wallet off of the coffee table and stuffed it into his pocket. He caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and turned his attention to where you stood in the entryway with a grin. 

“There is no reason for anyone to be as tall as you are,” you quipped before he could say anything. 

His chuckling drowned out the zipping of his pants and the clinking of his belt as he walked towards you. Once his clothing was fully secure, he knelt in front of you where he began to mess with the hem of the sweatpants. His fingers brushed against the skin of your ankle as he neatly rolled up the extra fabric, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks before you were able to do anything to stop it. Why did things feel so different with Kyle? There were countless times where you had to be in close proximity to rather attractive people. God, you didn’t even want to know how many times you had to be nearly naked next to a man for a photoshoot. For you, it was just work, and nothing awkward. 

Wasn’t this work, too? Kyle was only taking care of you, just like you paid him to do. 

“There. All tripping hazards avoided,” Kyle said. He gave the pants a firm tug just to ensure that everything was secure before he looked back up at you. The smile on his face faltered slightly, and his eyebrows raised. “Doin’ alright, love?” 

You swallowed. “Yeah, just worried about being late.” 

Kyle nodded before he pushed himself back on his feet. For a split second, he was so close to you. Close enough that a hint of his cologne sent your mind spinning. That terrible, alluring scent you remembered from the previous night when you hugged him. But then he took a step back before leaning down at grabbing his car keys off the coffee table, and that feeling began to dissipate. 

“Let’s head out, then.” 

Two hours later and you were in full dress and makeup for your photoshoot. Liquid gold hung from your body in silky sheets and your eyelids were painted in the same metallic color. You looked like a goddess, some heavenly creature that had come down to grace everyone with your presence alone. However, you certainly didn’t feel like one. Not with the way your stomach growled so violently it was nearly louder than the industrial fans blowing your direction. 

But your photographer, being the amazing man that he was, told you to take a quick break when he noticed you were more off balance than usual while posing. Stumbling off the set, you took a seat in one of the chairs resting against the wall while everyone on set reviewed pictures and adjusted lighting and backdrops as needed. 

“Twenty minutes?” a disappointed voice spoke up. “You kept everyone waiting twenty minutes?”

You could recognize that voice from anywhere. Anna Lynn used to model when she was younger under the name A.Lynn. With the period, and capital L, as she would constantly remind people. It had become her identity at that point, and you were too afraid to question her too much on it. She came back into the industry just as you were rising to fame, and she offered to be your manager. And when the A.Lynn offers to be your manager, you don’t say no. 

A.Lynn was insanely smart, and knew everything there was to know about modeling, however, there were times where she could be somewhat neurotic. The look in her eyes was all you needed to know that you were in for a long chastising. She had her hands on her hips as she stood in front of you like a mother ready to discipline her child. 

“Do you realize how unprofessional that is? This photoshoot is going to put you on the cover of Vogue, sweetie. I mean, seriously, what has gotten into you?” she demanded. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed. If you hadn’t had a full face of caked on makeup, you would have been rubbing at your eyes. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I just, had a rough night last night and I forgot to set my alarm and-”

“Wait, what happened last night?” For as uptight and worrisome as A.Lynn could be, there was a strong motherly side to her as well. One that was rare to find in that industry and have it be sincere.

“Someone broke into my house last night,” you spoke, voice quivering. “Shattered one of my windows on the ground floor. Could hardly sleep because of it and I just forgot about everything, and I’m sorry.” 

Tears were already falling before you could stop them, and you did your best to pat away the moisture without ruining your makeup. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you. There was some sort of guilty feeling eating away at you, and your brain felt fuzzy. You didn’t even cry the night that crazed protester ripped your dress, nearly exposing you. Maybe something really had gotten into you.

“Sweetie,” A.Lynn said, voice softening as her hands fell from her hips, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I felt like if I did, I was just making excuses,” you sniffled. 

You weren’t sure if it was the tone in your voice, or something else, but A.Lynn’s posture completely changed. She let out a soft sigh and shook her head before taking a step away from you. 

“That’s all I needed to hear. I’m calling the shoot off.”

Your mouth opened in protest, and for a moment your tears stopped due to the utter shock you felt. A.Lynn had been one of the world's most popular models before moving to the management side of things. Even someone who didn’t know her name could tell she held a certain grace and poise about her just from her movements alone. It was easy to forget just how powerful she really was. 

“Seriously? No, I promise I’m fine, I can do it,” you insisted. 

“I saw what you were like up there. You’re clearly not in the right headspace for this, and you looked like you were going to faint. Did you even eat this morning?” she asked with an eyebrow raised. 

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, all you could do was stare up at her as you folded your hands in your lap. “But you said it yourself, this is going on Vogue, I can’t just-”

“Honey, you are one of, if not the, most popular model in the industry. You could ask for a pink pony and someone would find a way to give one to you. We can reschedule a damn photoshoot,” A.Lynn said. “Now go wash up and take the day off. Won’t do you any good to work yourself to death.” 

What a mess. But it wasn’t going to do you any good arguing with her, and you were certain everyone on earth knew that by that point. With a sigh, you wiped at your eyes, no longer caring about the makeup the artists had delicately painted your skin with. You vanished into one of the changing rooms where you shedded your elegant dress and washed your face. Even the best makeup remover in the world couldn’t remove the shiny metallic of your eyeshadow, but your brain was too fried to even care. 

Once you got dressed again, you stood in the mirror for a moment just to look at yourself. It was Kyle’s clothes that you wore. They were too big for you, but in a way that almost felt right, like it belonged. Maybe you were a little scared about how nice it felt. 

Shaking your head as if that would get it to clear, you gathered your things before slipping back into the studio. Most everyone had cleared out of the space once the shoot was called off, but there were a few stragglers putting away items into storage. A.Lynn was still there, and you were surprised to see that she was speaking with Kyle. He towered over her, yet looked non-threatening with a small bag in his hand. 

After he had dropped you off, you had insisted that he go home to spend his day doing something he enjoyed since he spent the night having to care for you. And it took some convincing to get this man to leave. So why did he come back? Had A.Lynn called him? 

Kyle’s eyes caught sight of you the instant you re-entered the room, and he must have said something to A.Lynn because she turned to get a quick look at you too. She waved you down, and you followed her gesture, joining their little group in the back of the studio. 

“Mr. Garrick, being the gentleman that he is, brought you breakfast,” A.Lynn explained. “He also said he would take you home, if you need the ride.” 

For another time that day, you felt the heat rise in your face, but you tried your best to ignore it as you pulled at your - Kyle’s - shirt. It had been awhile since you had felt like a child, and the events of the last twenty-four hours certainly didn’t help. 

“Eat up, and get some rest,” was her final parting words to you before she patted your shoulder and vanished, probably to go talk to some representative about rescheduling. 

You looked up at Kyle with slight apprehension and a little bit of guilt. As always, his expression to you was warm, and a slight smile appeared on his face as he held out the small paper bag for you to take. 

“Brunch,” he explained simply. 

“Kyle,” you chuckled as you took the bag from him, “you didn’t have to go through all this. Did A.Lynn make you do this?” 

“Well, since I couldn’t cook for you this morning, I was planning on dropping by with food anyway,” he explained. “And for the record, I was the one that recommended giving you a ride home. Figured it would be best to check things over at the house before leaving you alone again.” 

His words shouldn’t have made your heart flutter as much as it did, and still your body seemed to have a mind of its own. When you had hired the former SAS soldier, you had expected someone older, gruff, and maybe a bit rude. Slightly scary, for sure. You never thought you were hiring someone who’d let you hug them after a break in, and give you their clothes when you had none for the day. 

“You take your job very seriously, Mr. Garrick,” you teased. 

“Well, whether it’s terrorists or home invaders, I always like to do my job well, ma’am,” he teased back. 

Fuck, this man was going to be the death of you. 

The car ride back to your house was full of the delicious croissant sandwiches Kyle bought, and small talk over the quiet volume of the radio. He was easy to talk to, and incredibly sarcastic in a blunt, funny way. You were certain you would never run out of things to talk about with him, and you enjoyed the fact that he avoided asking questions about your job, so you did the same for him. In that moment, you weren’t a model, and he wasn’t your bodyguard, you two were just… well, something. 

When you arrived home, Kyle entered the house with you. A few cops had taped a large tarp over the gaping hole that the shattered window left the night before, but the glass still created a treacherous path all throughout your living room. The plastic rustled in the soft breeze and it echoed dully off of your mostly bare walls. There was too much space for you to try and cover. Even with a whole house to yourself you were afraid to take up too much space. 

“Want me to do a sweep of the house?” Kyle offered. 

You chuckled at the absurdity of his question. “Proper military style?” 

“As opposed to improper?” 

“Just, do whatever you think is best.” 

Kyle shot you a grin before you let him run loose throughout your house. Most people probably would have felt uneasy about letting someone essentially snoop through their home, but honestly, you didn’t have much, if anything, to hide. A majority of your rooms were empty, save for your bedroom. You kept a few guest bedrooms just to make the place feel less empty, and there was a room that you had attempted to turn into an office, yet you hardly used it except when taking pictures to post on your Instagram. 

While he was busy doing… whatever it was he was doing, you got to work on trying to tidy up your home. The shards of glass was the biggest issue, so logically you started there armed with a broom and a dustpan. You grabbed two trash bags and put one inside of the other in order to make a double barrier against any holes that would be created and began sweeping up pan-fuls of shattered glass. 

You wondered where the person who broke into your home had run off to when the alarm had been tripped. Had they needed the money that bad? Honestly, you probably would have given the money to them had they asked for it. You had more than you knew what to do with, anyway. 

“You’ve got a mini cinema in this place?” Kyle spoke up as he walked back into the living room. 

Pausing, you straightened yourself up with a dustpan full of glass shards in your hand. A sheepish smile crossed your lips before you unceremoniously dumped the glass into the bag with the rest. 

“Yeah. Came with the home when I bought it. Haven’t really used it though,” you admitted with a shrug. 

“Seriously? That feels like a crime,” Kyle said, almost with a whine. 

“It’s not as cool when you’re watching stuff by yourself,” you admitted. 

And it wasn’t a lie. Your theatre was impressive, with complete surround sound that had bass that shook you to your core, and a screen that wasn’t quite as large as an actual cinema, but was larger than any TV you had ever seen before. You could watch any movie or show with stunning sound and images. But there were no words that you could string together to explain the heart shattering silence that followed when it was over. 

You were getting tired of hearing your own breathing. 

“But if you’re interested, there’s a port where you can hook up things like consoles and whatnot. Just in case you’d like to get your ass kicked in Siege on the big screen,” you offered with a grin. 

Kyle opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out; only a simple scoff as he nodded his head in defeat. “Yeah. Suppose I asked for that one.” 

Chuckling, you continued to sweep up the floor. In the time that it took Kyle to search through the house for any unwanted visitors, animal or human, you had hardly made a dent in the mess your midnight visitor left. 

“Got another broom?” Kyle asked. 

You bent down in order to hold the dustpan more stable before attempting to sweep yet another pile of glass up. An industrial sized push broom would have made things go much faster, but you were stuck with your small house broom instead. 

“Kyle, please. You’ve already done so much for me with everything that happened last night. I can clean up a bit of a mess,” you insisted. 

It was as if the universe was trying to prove you wrong, because while you were attempting to sweep into the pan, you felt a sharp sting. A shard of glass had flicked up and sliced the soft flesh that laid between your thumb and forefinger. You hissed at the sting and retracted your hand away from the dustpan. A steady river of blood already flowed from the cut, despite it not appearing to be all that deep. 

“You were saying?” Kyle prompted.

“Christ, I can’t seem to catch a break,” you sighed. You said it with a bit of a chuckle, but only because you were convinced that you’d break down if you didn’t. 

“Hey, c’mon,” Kyle said softly. He braved the stray shards of glass that laid between the two of you and took the broom from your hand before leaning it against the wall. You stood up and held your hand, trying to catch the flow of blood from dripping on the floor. “Do you have a first aid kit?” 

Nodding, you turned your head towards the stairs. “Yeah, I’ve got one in the bathroom next to my room.” 

“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” he insisted, hand coming to rest against the small of your back as he gently urged you forward. 

In an attempt to ignore the warmth of his hand, you focused instead on the crimson pooling in the palm of your hand. It was so thick, and you could feel it coagulating already. 

Just like the rest of your house, your bathroom was impressive. A large, whirlpool tub sat in the far corner, but it was more akin to a hot tub than anything else. There was a regular shower, which you had remodeled to be more similar to a classic shower because you found that the overhead raindrop system got your shampoo into your eyes. Then, of course, a large and extravagant vanity with lighting that was similar to what you’d find in the makeup room of a theatre. 

“Bottom drawer on the left,” you directed.

While Kyle shuffled through the drawer, you held your hand over the sink where the blood splattered into the bowl. Avoiding getting blood elsewhere, you turned the water on and washed the coagulated mess down the drain. 

“Luckily for you, I completed first aid training while I was in basic,” Kyle said as he set the small kit on the counter next to you. “So there will be no bleeding out on my watch.” 

“I’d sure hope not,” you chuckled. 

Kyle grabbed a small pack of gauze before ripping the packaging open. He held his other hand out and made a slight grabbing motion, asking for your hand. Turning the water off, you quickly held your hand for him to take, and he instantly pressed the gauze against your cut to soak up the blood. 

You tried not to look at him. You were certain you would combust if you did. There was no way in the world you would be able to survive looking at him while he held your hand as delicately as he did. Carefully wiping away any blood, but not using so much pressure as to aggravate the cut. He was too kind to you. 

“A simple band aid might not cut it since it’s in such an odd spot, so I’ll try wrapping it instead,” Kyle explained. 

He pulled the gauze away from your hand and checked the amount of blood that was on it. It was already starting to slow, but you could see just how deep and jagged the cut was, like it tore through your flesh more than it sliced through it. Tossing it to the side, Kyle opened up a fresh set of gauze before pressing it against your hand again. Then, he fumbled with a few other items until he found some wrapping material. 

His hands were so large compared to yours, and the way his fingers gently traced the palm of your hand as he smoothed out the wrap made your stomach flutter. Even being around Kyle was electrifying in a way that almost hurt. There was something deep inside of you that ached for him. Something that you needed to ignore. 

“There we go. All better,” he finished. 

Smiling, you turned your hand over to inspect his work. The gauze was held securely in place, and the wrapping was significantly better than anything you would have been able to accomplish by yourself. You looked up to find that he was already looking at you. And it shouldn’t have meant anything. It didn’t mean anything. But you wanted it to. Fuck, you wanted it to so bad. 

“Thank you. For everything,” you said, voice growing soft. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I cut into your personal time.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was my pleasure,” Kyle said as a slight grin began to pull at his lips. “Besides, you make decent company.” 

You giggled at that comment, but only so you could bite back the words that threatened to spill from your lips. He was just so… everything. So kind and funny and sweet it was almost infuriating. Some sort of longing built up inside of you so furiously that it almost felt like aggression. It was like having something just beyond reach. Like waking up from a dream. 

“Well, I appreciate it, but I should let you get home. You’ve wasted enough time on me as is,” you said with a bashful smile. 

Avoiding his gaze, you instead turned your attention to the bloody gauze on the counter and picked it up before carefully walking to the small trashcan next to the toilet. You had hardly thrown the item away before Kyle spoke up again. 

“It wasn’t a waste.” 

Your attention snapped to Kyle, and he suddenly seemed almost unsure of himself. He ran a careful hand over his hair as he looked down at his feet. Whatever uneasiness he expressed quickly vanished as he hooked a thumb into one his pockets. 

“If you need anything else, just call, yeah?” he said, looking back up at you. 

You nodded. “Yeah, of course. And thanks again.” 

Kyle smiled, and you swore you almost broke then and there. Those thoughts swimming around in your mind were dangerous and needed to be smothered, but a part of you enjoyed entertaining them too much. But as you walked him out of your house, you knew that it couldn’t last forever. This little crush of yours. Sure, it felt fun and exciting, but it was fleeting. It was something that would stretch its wings and fly off without you in an instant. 

But for now, you could pretend. If it made that house feel a little smaller; if it made the nights less quiet; you could pretend. At least for a little while. 

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #bodyguard!gaz #f!reader

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

GOOD NIGHT KISS!

their bedtime routines with you

gender neutral reader

BACHIRA MEGURU!

midnight snacks!

It becomes a night time ritual of sorts, for you to be all ready to hop into bed and go to sleep, only to hear some kind of odd rustling in the kitchen. And without fail, you always find your boyfriend in there cooking up a storm: drizzling sugar and honey onto whatever concoction he’s created. You know Bachira needs to eat a lot to keep his energy up; not only is he still a growing teenager, he’s also a full-time athlete and someone with a horribly insatiable sweet tooth. But you have to give him credit for his skills—no matter how empty your fridge seems, Bachira finds a way to craft something up without fail. And whenever you come out to investigate his latest masterpiece, he’s eager to share it with you. He claims things taste better when you’re there to indulge in them with him!

A sickeningly sweet scent hits your nose when you shuffle out of your shared bedroom with Bachira, and you can’t help but let out a defeated laugh when you see him cheerfully cooking up a large stack of waffles in the kitchen. In good Bachira-fashion, every inch of those waffles are drenched in sticky syrup and covered all over with a generous helping of whipped cream. 

“This many waffles at this hour?” You slide into a seat, and Bachira glances up from the batch he’s cooking to grin at you. 

“Yup! Got hungry. I saw a box mix in the pantry when I was digging around, and I just knew I needed to have some!” He explains sheepishly. “Do you want a fork? You’re welcome to them, you know.”

“I’ll steal a bite later.” You eye the big stack slightly and glance up at Bachira. “You shouldn’t eat too much before bed though! You’ll get a stomach ache if you eat too many sweets. Or a cavity, even.”

He puffs his cheeks out and shoots his best puppy eyes at you, his plump lips curling into a boyish pout. “But I’m hungry! You wouldn’t want your boyfriend to go to bed with a growling stomach, would you? That’s mean!”

“Hey, I’m only trying to look after you,” you chuckle as you put your hands up in a defensive display. “Although I guess you’ve always been better at digesting sweets than anyone else I know.”

“I deserve a little treat before bed!” He flips over the waffle maker, letting out a dreamy exhale at the scent of dough and vanilla wafting through the kitchen. “It gives me the energy to work hard at playing soccer! And it’s fun to make all these snacks! Especially when you’re here to eat them with me.”

“Well, let’s not take too long,” you murmur. “I’m sleepy, and all I need right now is some cuddles before bed.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n!” Bachira brightens up. “One serving of waffles and cuddles coming up real soon, made specially just for you!”

YUKIMIYA KENYU!

skincare!

Yukimiya’s surprisingly humble about his job as a model, but as quiet as he stays about it, you know he takes his gig seriously. He always takes his time in the shower, making sure his hair curls just right, and the array of lotions and creams he has on his nightstand is always dizzying to count. But if there’s one thing he’s a stickler for, it’s including you in his little routines. He thinks it’s adorable to do his skincare with you, and you can always catch the hint of a smile when he offers to test out a scrub he’s bought on you or to try matching face masks together. Although lately, you’ve noticed that Yukimiya’s been insistent on seeing how much softer your skin’s gotten by kissing you all over—totally to figure out which products work best!

“It tickles, Kenyu!” You can barely keep yourself from wiggling in your seat. Your boyfriend’s face is scrunched up in concentration as he carefully applies an ivory-colored moisturizer to your cheeks and neck. He’s told you to stay still multiple times, but whenever you feel his fingers rubbing slow circles into your skin, you keep getting all giddy and giggly. 

“I’m trying my best to do this quickly,” he protests. His tongue sticks out between his lips slightly, and his forehead is scrunched up in concentration as he swirls another helping of cream to your face. You bite back a loud chuckle, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around dangerously. He shakes his head endearingly when he sees you choke back a laugh. “But I can only go so fast if you keep squirming!”

“Hey, I can’t help it!” You swing your legs on the little bath stool Yukimiya has you seated on. “You’d get all ticklish too if someone as cute as you was getting all close and handsy!”

The dark-haired boy raises a cheeky eyebrow, and his orange eyes lock onto yours with a playful glint at your words. His fingers trace the delicate outline of your face, and your heart skips a beat when you feel his fingertips ghost over the edge of your lips.

“You think I’m being handsy? I’m barely touching you,” he whispers, the tone of his voice suddenly low and electric. You swallow nervously, the jitters inside your ribcage flaring up even more. 

He grins, setting down the small pot of moisturizer. “I’ll show you what me ‘being handsy’ really is then, love. Maybe that’ll help you with being ticklish… Is that alright?”

SENDOU SHUTO!

kisses before bed!

Sendou has a horribly needy streak. He can’t help it—he’s used to being the ace of the (now former) Japanese U20 team, and he’s always dreamt of having a lover that would fawn and obsess over him as much as he does. He likes it when you indulge his romantic fantasies a little, and he gets awfully clingy whenever he’s sleepy and it’s time for bed. No matter what the mood is, Sendou swears he can’t sleep properly if you aren’t there to give him a kiss before he goes to bed. You two could be in the middle of a heated argument or cracking jokes; he isn’t letting you roll over and snooze until he’s gotten his allotted amount of attention from you. He’ll blush and get all shy asking you for a kiss, but the bashful grin he has afterwards makes it all worth it.

“Hey.” Something pokes at your side, and you grumble, swatting absentmindedly as your mind clings to the strains of sleep threatening to overtake you. You whine loudly, wanting to go back to the comfort of your pillow, but another poke at your ribcage jostles you back awake.

You crack your eyes open, clearly disgruntled. “What do you want, Sendou?”

“A good night kiss,” he sheepishly replies. Your eyes adjust to the lighting as your boyfriend wraps his arms around your waist, slipping under the covers to take his place next to you in bed. “I ask you for one every night. Don’t tell me that you don’t remember our little bedtime ritual?”

You blink at him. Oh. Right. He looks so pathetic, lips pulled into a slight pout as he shoots his best attempt at puppy eyes at you. Could you believe that this man was someone who was on a national Japanese soccer team? The one that believed he had enough charisma to pull a Hollywood actress?

“Sorry,” you reply, reaching over to fluff up his hair. You thought dating a soon-to-be professional soccer player would mean more glam and spotlight, but all you got in return was a wet dog of a boyfriend who followed you around at the heel if you didn’t devote enough time to him. Not that you minded—frankly speaking, you liked knowing that you held so much power over him. “I got sleepy, and I must have dozed off while you were getting ready.”

“Well, now’s the perfect time to give me one,” Sendou sings, and he sticks his face out. You roll your eyes, but you still reach over to press your lips gently against his, savoring the way the boy immediately melts into your touch. You make it quick, and when you pull away, Sendou giggles happily and settles down to spoon you from behind.

“Happy now, Mr. I’m-going-to-marry-a-Hollywood-actress?” You tease gently. You don’t need to be looking at him to know that he’s going to be pouting at you again, and Sendou buries his head into your shoulder.

“I’ll be happier once you let that stupid nickname go,” he murmurs into your skin. His hair brushes against your jawline, and he twists his head to kiss your cheek. “But as long as I’m with you, I’d say I’m pretty happy.”

MICHAEL KAISER!

lets you steal his robe!

Kaiser stands on top of the world. He takes pleasure in destroying and knowing that he’s superior to everyone who dares stand before his path. Despite knowing this and knowing that no one could hold a candle to the man that he is, Kaiser’s rendered completely useless and lovestruck when it comes to his stupid crush on you. You could spit in his face and call him stupid, and he knows he’d go skipping off to Ness twirling his hair and blushing. Luckily for him, you found some part in your heart to love him back, and you take advantage of it every night when you steal his bathrobe and snuggle up in it. It smells like him, and you have no issue dozing off in how big and fluffy it is. 

“Darling.”

You keep to your side in your bed, grinning to yourself as you settle deeper into the fluff of his expensive robe. Was there anything better than this? Being all cozy and ready for bed, buried in a mountain of pillows and blankets, topped off with what you swore was the fuzziest robe known to mankind.

“Darling,” Kaiser whines again, tugging at your blanket burrito. “Darling, I’m freezing out here.”

“That’s what you get for trying to go to bed shirtless.” You don’t even bat an eyelash. Kaiser whimpers like a wounded dog, curling up next to your blanket fort in nothing but his boxers. You knew that he fully intended on having his bathrobe to warm him up, but when he wasn’t paying attention, you had run off with it instead. 

And if you were in any other mood, you would have stroked Kaiser’s ego a bit. You would have coaxed the robe off of him by gushing over his tattoo, getting him all smug and conceited just so you could steal your boyfriend’s pajamas off of his shoulders. Either way, you fully intended on leaving him shivering next to you while you indulged in the warmth.

“I’m going to catch a cold!” Kaiser dramatically bemoans. He flops down next to you, slapping a hand over his forehead and everything. “My own partner doesn’t love me anymore! I’ll die cold and hungry and shivering with illness. No one cares about me anymore-”

“-Oh, shut it,” you cut him off and unravel part of your blanket. Any sign of Kaiser’s “illness” quickly disappears as he leaps into your arms, sticking his body right up against yours as the layers of cloth envelop him in much welcomed warmth.

“Is that better?” You ask, letting him cling to you like a koala. He lays his head on your shoulder, nodding contently. You fight the urge to pinch him for being so clingy and theatrical, but he looks so happy swaddled in your arms that you don’t have it in your heart to be mean.

“Much better,” he purrs. “I’m all ready to go to bed now. If we sleep this close together, do you think we’ll dream of each other? I’d love to think about my sweet darling fast asleep, dreaming about me… How romantic!”

You grit your teeth. “I’ll kick you out back into the cold, you twat.”

“So mean!”

x

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bachira meguru #yukimiya kenyu #sendou shuto #michael kaiser #x reader #my writing

[ellephlox]

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 

Barefooted. 

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” you croaked. 

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 

Blood. In the mucus. 

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?” 

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #Daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel #MCU #hurt/comfort #reader #reader insert

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna's Wife and Yuuji's Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 1

I’m an actual big sister–the eldest. What a pain. But who can hate someone as adorable as baby Yuuji? I’d hate the world less if there were more Yuuji’s in it. 

You were neighbors with grumpy old man Wasuke Itadori. The other children and even most adults didn’t like him, but you got along well with the guy. You liked that he didn’t talk down to you like the other grownups.

As a child, you hated children. (You hated people in general, but kids were a piece of work.) One exception was Yuuji. You met the toddler when Wasuke announced that he was now an orphan. 

Yuuji was a loud baby, but that wasn’t always a bad thing. When he cried, he let out fat globs of tears and his cheeks swelled. But it didn’t take much to make him happy. Just seeing you made him smile that toothless smile of his. 

He seemed to like you a lot. Maybe because you shared his grandpa’s personality. 

Over the years, you grew close with the Itadoris and you always walked to and from school with Yuuji.

You didn’t have any clubs or after school activities because you preferred to watch over Wasuke, who would yell at you for neglecting your social life. 

You were there to hold Yuuji’s hand when the eldest Itadori died. 

Yuuji didn’t cry and you didn’t want to force him to talk, but you became more sensitive and protective of him. 

Despite his protests, you cleaned the Itadori home, did Yuuji’s laundry (which you haven’t done since he was in grade school), restocked the pantry, and cooked his meals. 

One night, however, Yuuji didn’t walk home with you because he had a meeting for his club, but he promised he’ll come back in time for dinner so you carefully prepared his favorite meal. 

Yuuji was a good boy, the best boy, actually. He was genuinely sweet to everyone, he did his chores, and above all, he always, always informed you if something changed in his schedule because even though he was taller and stronger than you, he knew how much you worried. Even during the rare moments of disagreement between you two, he would always inform you if he couldn’t make it to an appointment. 

So when a whole hour passed without so much as a text message from him, you grabbed your bag and jumped out the door and into a cab heading straight for his high school. 

Your breathing became heavy the moment you reached the place. Something was wrong. Your bones ached. 

The air was heavy, thick with tension as you shakingly destroyed the campus gate lock with a rock. 

Yuuji was family to you. You practically raised that boy. If anything happened to him you would never forgive yourself. 

You didn’t have to search far for him though. A giant mass, some creature blocked the moon from high above and you just knew your brother was there.

You never ran so fast your whole life.

As Yuuji was being wrangled by the monster, your body moved before you could think and you ran forward.

“Yuuji!” You screamed, throwing a rock at the creature’s eye.

The thing didn’t let go of Yuuji but it was definitely paying attention to you now. 

Frozen, you watched futilely as it reached for you. 

Like a voice in the water, you heard a stranger call out to you–you didn’t even realize that someone else was here. It didn’t matter. You were going to die. You shut your eyes, silently asking Yuuji for forgiveness. 

Time stills–

Your tears pool.

But nothing comes.

You dared to open your eyes and realize that you’re not even standing anymore. You had collapsed on the ground. The monster was nowhere to be found.

Looking down at you was Yuuji, but at the same time, it wasn’t Yuuji. Sure the man in front of you was wearing his jacket and had his pink hair, but this wasn’t your brother.

“Finally,” the imposter whispered and your heart sped up with familiarity. 

“I found you.” He stretched forward his arm, trying to touch you but someone clapped and you gasped–a third party now cradled you in his arms. 

“Sorry,” the white-haired stranger holding you chuckled, but he wasn’t talking to you, he was talking to Yuuji’s imposter. “We can’t have you hurting civilians now, can we?”

There was a pause in the air.

You gulped. 

The tattooed Yuuji glared at the man holding you. “Let her go, or I’ll–”

He grabbed his cheek and when he spoke again, you could hear Yuuji, “Hey, what’s going on now? Give me back my body!”

“Y-Yuuji?” You muttered.

“Ah, nee-chan! You’re safe, thank god!”

“What’s happening?”

“That’s my question.”

Yuuji’s face turned again, and the voice of his imposter growled, “Don’t address my wife so casually, you brat.”

Another pause in the air.

You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but you would’ve laughed at everybody else if you weren’t so baffled at the declaration.

The imposter: <(￣︶￣)>

Yuuji:  ( ・◇・)？

The the fair-headed stranger holding you: Σ(ＴωＴ)

The black-haired teenager you’ve never met before: （￣□￣；）

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Yuuji’s chin turned and he spoke up, “Nee-chan, I didn’t know you were married.”

Another head turned. “Don’t call her ‘nee-chan,’ and how dare you look straight into her eyes.”

“Nee-chan, have you considered getting a divorce?”

“I’m not married, Yuuji!”

Part 2

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #reader insert #sukuna #sukuna x y/n #reincarnated #reincarnation au #soulmates #i guess #yuuji is the goodest boy #protective sukuna #wife y/n #husband sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #sukuna ryomen #civilian y/n #civilian reader #big sister y/n #onee-chan #nee-chan #angst #hurt/comfort #funny??

[theadorableapprentice]

Take a Break

MC x Barbatos Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1,264

A/N: I'm not as proud of this one as I was hoping I would be, but I hope you all enjoy it. I think Barb deserves a break, okay? Poor demon must be exhausted.

Barbatos was tired, exhausted even. He hid it behind that smile of his well, but you knew better. You could see it in his eyes and the way he took a few extra seconds to open them that morning. But work in the Demon Lord’s castle never comes to an end. That’s what Barbatos would tell you any time you asked him to sit down for even just a minute. 

Today was supposed to be even worse than normal. There was an event Diavolo was putting on for the students at RAD so Barbatos’ tasks for the day had grown exponentially. You just felt… sad. He’s been working at this pace for who knows how many years now. You’re surprised the demon hasn’t burnt out. Or maybe he had, but he just refuses to show it. 

You didn’t plan this originally. No, originally you just wanted to cook him dinner and maybe give him a shoulder massage. I mean, he deserves to be taken care of for once. However, you slowly realized that with how busy he was today, there was going to be no time for him to stop and let you do these things for him. He has a castle to take care of and an event to make sure runs smoothly after all. So, modifications had been made. With Diavolo’s approval, of course. You’d need his help for this to run smoothly anyways, and well, Diavolo has secretly been worried about Barbatos too. 

You sent Barbatos a quick message. “Hey Barb, I won’t be able to make it to the RAD event today. I got held up with something else. Please don’t work too hard.”

Barbatos was quick to respond. “I understand. Let me know if you require any assistance. I shall see you tonight.”

You smiled and shook your head. You put away your D.D.D. and grabbed the list of tasks you wrote down. Little D No. 2 was kind enough to tell you everything Barbatos would usually have done around the Demon Lord’s castle today, were the RAD event not taking place. It was quite the long list and it only made you feel a bit more worried about how Barbatos does everything everyday. 

You decided to knock out the harder tasks first. Chances are, you wouldn’t finish up everything on this list, so you wanted to at least get the more challenging and time consuming tasks out of the way first. 

Doing these tasks without Barbatos knowing was proving to be more difficult than you originally thought. While he was indeed busy with the RAD event, he kept making trips back to the castle to grab different things, most likely in an attempt to correct things that weren’t going to plan. At one point you thought he saw you while you were cleaning the kitchen. You were quite lucky that the pantry was large enough to fit you and Little D No 2 inside at the same time. 

You watched through the crack in the pantry door as Barbatos walked briskly back and forth through the kitchen, grabbing various things he needed to fix whatever one of the brothers surely did. It was rare times like these that Barbatos dropped his mask and you could see how tired he truly was. It only made you more determined to help.

Unfortunately time moved a lot faster than you thought it would. The RAD event was finishing up soon and you weren’t even halfway done with the list. You still needed to start on dinner as well. Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

You pulled out your D.D.D. and sent a text to the Purgatory Hall groupchat. “Friends, I am in need of assistance. Please meet me at the Demon Lord’s castle without alerting Barbatos of your disappearance.”

It did not take long before Solomon, Simeon, and Luke were running into the castle.

“MC, are you okay?”

“What do you need help with?”

“Why couldn’t we tell Barbatos?”

You handed them each a paper with two tasks on it. “Finish these tasks for me in the next hour and I will owe you big time. Solomon, I’ll even try whatever monstrosity of a meal you decide to cook up next.” 

This surprised Simeon and Luke. They knew you were serious and got to work without saying another word. And you thought it was going pretty well. Key word: thought. You and Simeon started arguing about how to correctly clean a leather couch. Luke was struggling to reach the shelves he was trying to dust and had knocked a few things onto the ground. And Solomon managed to turn a spot on the carpet he was cleaning blue.

“What is going on here?” Everyone froze at the sound of Barbatos’ voice.

Solomon looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Scram!” 

The angels and the sorcerer disappeared in a flash, leaving you and Barbatos. 

“Hey Barb… You’re back early… How did the event go?” You moved in front of the blue spot on the carpet, hoping to conceal it from his eyes. 

“MC, what is the meaning of this?” He moved slightly so he could see what you were hiding. 

“Well… in my defense, Little D No. 2 told us that you used this carpet cleaner in here.”

“Did you dilute it or just go straight to cleaning?” 

“Er… I think Solomon just started cleaning. Honestly, they need to make the directions on those cleaning solutions bigger. It’s a wonder anyone uses those things correctly.”

Barbatos lets out a small sigh, but not a frustrated one. “MC, is this what you were up to all day?”

You nodded, feeling a little sheepish. “It was originally just me, but when I realized I didn’t have enough time to finish the long list of tasks you somehow manage to get done everyday, I enlisted help. Surprise?” 

Barbatos smiled softly. “MC, you did not have to go through all the trouble. I can manage my tasks quite well.”

“I know you can, that much is obvious. However, you need a break. You work so hard I’m surprised you haven’t dropped from exhaustion and if you keep going this way I’m going to start… I dunno… Bribing the Little Ds to do more of the cleaning. So… So just sit down and let me fix this.”

Barbatos let out a small chuckle. “I take it that this was why the Young Master was giving me tasks for the event such as ‘round up every person with a blue shirt’?”

You gently move him to sit down on the couch. If anyone else were to have moved him like that, you don’t know what would happen to them. Special partner privileges. “Maybe I should’ve asked someone else to keep you distracted.” 

“If you insist I take a break, I will. However, I must insist that you spend the time with me instead of cleaning. I’d much rather sit with you than watch you do my tasks.” 

You smiled and grabbed a book off a shelf. “Fine, but I’m going to read to you. Now get comfortable.” You sat down next to him, cuddling into his side. 

“By the way, you were correct on how to clean the couch. A vinegar and water solution with a microfiber cloth is a safe method.” 

You pulled out your D.D.D. and hit the voice recording button. “Say that again please.”

It was safe to say you and Barbatos spent the rest of the night together. Maybe, just maybe, he might start taking more breaks.

#obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me x reader #Take a Break