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atomicami · 5 months

Text

comfort crowd

boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍

You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.

A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.

The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.

Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.

You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.

“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.

She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.

“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“

“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”

You simply nod at her in response.

“Alright then, Abby.”

After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:

“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”

Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?

Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.

That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.

And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.

You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”

You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.

“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.

Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”

Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.

Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.

Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.

She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.

You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”

As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.

You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”

“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.

“Right, thank you, Abby.”

You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.

Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.

But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.

The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.

Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.

And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.

The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.

You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.

Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.

As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.

Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.

All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.

Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.

You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.

It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.

Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?

Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.

At that moment, she wanted to make things right.

Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.

Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”

Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.

She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:

“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”

Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.

Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”

You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.

You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.

“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”

The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”

It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…

Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”

You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.

“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”

Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.

Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”

You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.

Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.

“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”

Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”

You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”

She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.

“…you.”

A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”

You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.

“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.

And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.

But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?

You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.

Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.

Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”

With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.

However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.

Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.

You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.

“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“

“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”

You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“

“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.

“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”

Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.

Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.

“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”

The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”

You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.

So you give in this time.

“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”

And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.

Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”

You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.

“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.

You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.

“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.

Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.

That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.

So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.

“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.

You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”

You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”

“Better than him, right?”

“Yeah. Better than him.”

A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”

You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.

Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.

The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.

Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”

“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”

You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.

She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.

“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”

Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.

“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.

“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”

All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.

The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.

Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.

At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.

Abby was waiting for you to cum first.

You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.

“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.

“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”

At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.

“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.

Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.

Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.

Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.

Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.

You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.

Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”

You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.

And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.

1K notes · View notes

yunhoszn · 1 month

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horses are still overrated

pairing jeong yunho x f!reader word count 2k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, mentions of voyeurism, dirty talk, marking-ish, mutual masturbation, kissing, slight cum eating shhhhh don’t say anything, pet names: baby, babe, princess

summary new relationships always have room for experimenting, and well, you and yunho are no exception.

more ok so i tried doing these in ask format but i didn’t like it so we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming with a little update :P anyway,, this was for this request! it’s meant to be an extension of save a horse, ride a cowboy but can totally be read as a standalone! i kinda strayed from the initial req, but i hope this is still good… it’s still yunho day so <3 ALSO @bro-atz thank u for betaing my love i appreciate u so big!! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

The few weeks that have passed since you and Yunho have confessed to each other have been nothing short of blissful.

He makes you feel like you’re soaring, ensuring that your happiness is the top priority. He embraces you in a way that’s not only physical, but emotional too. Like his feelings for you are their own special hug of warmth that envelopes you when you need it most. You could never get tired of him, could never return to your life back home like this summer never happened.

Because in all honesty, this summer was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you.

You have a small smile on your face as you reminisce about the wonderful time you’ve spent here so far, leaning back into the bench on the farmhouse porch. Initially, you were sitting here to openly gawk after Yunho as he rounded up the cattle, but now you were too giddy to pay attention to that. You don’t notice him walking towards you directly, Yeoreum tailing behind him.

“What’s got you so cheesy today?”

You blink at his question, feeling a bit bashful. You’ll never get used to this view. “I was just thinking about us, and how happy you make me.”

“That’s cute,” he mirrors your expression, one hand on the back of the bench to hold his weight and the other coming up to cup your jaw, lips pecking yours gently. “Ready for dinner?”

“I have a confession to make,” you start as you’re washing the dishes after dinner.

“What’s up?” Yunho asks you from the other side of the kitchen, putting away the leftovers. He shuts the refrigerator and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. You swallow thickly.

“I’ve just had this on my chest for so long and I need to get it off before I explode,” you ramble, avoiding his eyes as you scrub a plate. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise,” he chuckles, and you can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. “I won’t judge you.”

Your sigh comes out as more of a shudder, Yunho’s arms wrapping around your middle and his chin resting on your shoulder. The new proximity makes you ten times more nervous to say your piece, your heart beating erratically behind your rib cage. This is fine. This is great actually. (No it’s not!)

“Do— um— do you remember the day before Seojun and I broke up?” Your hands are trembling slightly.

“When you gave Yeoreum a bath, right?” He nods, the movement bothering you slightly because it has his chin digging into your shoulder uncomfortably. “What about it?”

”So…” You have to pause the dishes, your hands clamming up so much that you think the handle of your sponge will fly out of your grasp. “That night, when my lightbulb went out, I actually went out to go grab you. But— uh— I saw something… else… instead…”

Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely too mortified to even think about what his reaction could be. It’s been a minute since the ordeal played out, so really you didn’t have to say anything. Part of you felt like you couldn’t continue this relationship in good conscience without being totally honest, though.

Strong hands wrap gently around your wrists, turning you around to face him. He tsks, “Open your eyes, princess.”

His eyes are soft, no hint of disappointment or disgust on his features as he stares back at you. His lips curl into a smug smile after a couple seconds, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. You blink at him, a little confused by the shift in atmosphere, but not complaining.

“You’re not—?”

“You watched me fuck my fist, is that right?” Yunho asks so bluntly, so vulgarly. “Tell me, what did you do after that?”

It’s easy to divert your gaze again, focusing on how interesting the material of his button up suddenly is. It’s one thing to admit that you stood there and watched for a bit, it’s another to admit you stuffed yourself with your own fingers not even fifteen minutes later. But you think he already knows that, based on your behavior and some good ol’ context clues.

“I… I touched myself,” you whimper, ashamed of how you’re getting turned on. The worst part is the fact that he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying the way he has you folding for him so quickly. “To the thought of you…”

Yunho’s grip on your chin tightens and his eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot…”

You weren’t sure how this would go, and a piece of you genuinely thought he might even end things with you. Any other person would think you were sick and perverted, but not him. It makes you feel a lot better and a lot more secure in your relationship.

Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, grazing the pad of his thumb. He hisses, cursing under his breath, letting you wrap your lips around and suck the finger. Yunho stares with not a single coherent thought behind his eyes. He’s losing his composure, pressing his thumb down on your tongue.

“Do you think you can tell me? How exactly did you touch yourself?” He purses his lips, his free hand slipping into the opening of your overalls, dragging his finger along the exposed skin of your waist. You shake your head with a whine.

”Yun… That’s embarrassing…”

He pulls his hand out of your overalls, hooking the digit into your belt loop and yanking you closer. His mouth is dangerously near your own, lips brushing yours when he speaks. “I wanna know. Need to picture my pretty princess fucking herself desperately ‘cause her fingers aren’t enough to get her off.”

Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenching around nothing just by his words alone. Yunho had always done such a good job at being the sweet and doting partner everyone wanted. He was attentive, praised you like you were a living, breathing goddess. But this dirty side of him is different. And you like it a lot more than you should.

“O-Okay…” You swallow thickly, and suddenly he’s spinning you so his chest is to your back. He urges you towards the bedroom, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking the supple skin gently, tenderly.

”Go on,” he says between kisses, still pushing you until you’re standing in the middle of his room. Your eyes already feel heavy and you haven’t done anything yet. “Tell me.”

”I— um— I thought about your hands and how big they are,” your tone is shaky, and you hope you don’t sound stupid. “Thought about how good it would feel to have them all over me. I pictured that it was your fingers inside of me. Imagined your cock, and how big it is.”

“Is that so? I’m just not getting the visual, babe. I think I need you to show me.” He hums, a hint of amusement in his voice. As if this couldn’t get more embarrassing, now he wants you to finger yourself in front of him? You’re about to protest, but he’s pressing your lower back to the mattress and talking against the corner of your mouth again, teasing you because he knows he can. “If you’re good for me, I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t be able to forget the shape of my cock.”

You nod with a whimper, hopping onto the bed and scooting all the way up to the pillows. Your hands are wobbly as you undress yourself, unbuckling your overalls and kicking them off your feet. Of course you chose the worst day to dress the part. Yunho sits at the edge, watching you with an unreadable expression.

When you’re in nothing but your top and panties, he clears his throat, leaning back onto his palms. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Move your underwear to the side for me, princess. Let me see your pretty pussy.”

It’s almost impossible to hold back a moan, following his instructions. You glide your middle finger through your folds, showcasing how you’re practically dripping for him in the amount of time it’s taken you to get from the kitchen to here. He exhales through his nose, legs spreading to give you a glimpse of an uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants.

You sigh deeply at the sight, circling your finger around your clit slowly. The thought of being the cause behind it, of getting Yunho so hot and bothered, drives you crazy and has you curling your toes.

“Just like that,” he encourages, tossing his denim button up to the floor. He palms over his erection, tilting his head slightly. “Can you do some more for me?”

“Mhm,” is all you can manage to force out, doing what he asked. You shove your ring and middle fingers inside of yourself, finally releasing a moan at the intrusion. You keep pressure on your clit with the heel of your palm. There’s silence between you save for the occasional whine.

Yunho shivers, shimmying out of his pants so he can stroke himself freely. You gawk at him with bated breath, biting your lip as your fingers pick up their pace. There’s a knot that settles in the pit of your stomach, tightening and tightening in preparation for that special moment.

The view of him spread out in front of you, fucking up into his hand with hooded eyes trained on your own playing with your cunt, is too much. He’s wearing that same godforsaken white tank top as he was the night you saw him, the muscles in his forearm and bicep flexing with each twist of his wrist, each pump of his cock.

You feel like you’re drooling, ogling at him like he was a piece of meat. But you couldn’t help it. Yunho was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. The longer you stare, the further you fall. That’s a conclusion you’ve come to a little too late.

“‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, head almost clunking against the headboard. “Wanna cum with you.”

“I’m almost there, too, baby,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he runs his thumb over his slit. That has a loud whine spilling from your lips, your feet digging into the mattress. You don’t know how much longer you can last.

Your fingers try to reach that spongy, sensitive spot deep in your cunt, but you can’t. It seems that only Yunho’s long, thick fingers could accomplish that feat. No wonder you were so obsessed with his hands.

You opt for using the fingers of your free hand to swipe quickly at your clit while the others curl and thrust into you, inching you toward that steep cliff that has stars decorating your vision. Judging by the volume of his sounds getting higher and higher, you can tell Yunho’s right there with you.

One particular absentminded curse from him has your brain short circuiting, that promise of release washing over you almost violently. Your body aches and quivers, orgasming harder than you ever had just with your own hand. (You’d like to think the presence of a certain cowboy had everything to do with it.)

He groans and follows behind shortly after, painting his hand in milky white. The two of you try to catch your breaths, laying there for a couple moments to recuperate. After a while, Yunho leans over to kiss you gently, squeezing your cheeks with his cum covered hand. You scrunch your nose.

“You’re getting it on my face!”

“That was the goal,” he laughs, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You roll your eyes, licking away whatever was near your mouth. He groans again. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me? Purposely?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I remember being told you’d fuck me if I did good for you. Where’s my reward?”

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”

#atzhouse #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunhoszn #📮 — reqs

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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months

Text

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña

Summary: You've never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. But when you and Javi celebrate it for the first time together, he goes out of his way to make sure it's everything you want and more.

Pairing: Fiancé!Javier Peña x F!Reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do that pls), face sitting, oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (it's me), PREMATURE EJACULATION, cumming untouched, subby Javi (he is no better than a teenage boy and can barley keep it together bc he is so obsessed with you AH), Javi picks you up to carry you, Javi being a hopeless romantic, sweet, cute fluff bc I said so

A/N: HEYOOOO. It's me, back with our favorite menace couple 🤪 You know damn well Javi goes all out for Valentine's Day, bc Javier Peña is a man in LOVE and the world's biggest softie (I will not be taking counter arguments, it's fact). So in love, in fact, that sometimes, things are finished before they're even started!!! Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!! 🫣💕 Unbeta'd bc my body won't let me sleep and I'm too exhausted to edit

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

You hated Valentine’s Day.

Well… Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word strong enough to try and convince Javi that the last thing he needed to worry about doing was going all out for you on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Because for a very long time, all Valentine’s day was for you was just that- another day in the middle of winter.

For as long as you could remember, you had either spent Valentine’s day alone, wishing you had someone special to share it with, or the person you were sharing it with really didn’t give a shit about you, bought you some chocolate and flowers to cover their ass and called it a day. Your most recent ex had been kind enough to follow your request about not making the holiday anything special by forgetting about it completely and ditching you to go to a hockey game with his friends and then drunkenly calling you to come pick him up that night.

It was safe to say that Valentine’s day really didn’t mean much to you at all, or at least you thought it wouldn’t, until you’d met Javier Peña- A man who had quite literally bumped into you and proceeded to change the course of your life for the better and found yourself falling head over heels for, so much so, that it didn’t take you long to realize there was no one else that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than him- leaving your first Valentine’s day together also the first time celebrating the holiday with your fiancé, now that the two of you had gotten engaged. It also meant your first of many years of having to convince Javi that he really didn’t need to do anything special for you to celebrate, and that just getting to spend time with him was more than enough for you.

Unfortunately, it was not good enough for Javi.

“Baby, I’m being serious, I promise I do not care. I would be happy if all we did was got pizza and watched TV together. All I wanna do for Valentine’s Day is just spend time with you. I don’t need a random weekday in February for you to prove that you love me, I think you’ve already proven that, Jav.” You laughed, pausing from washing dishes to pull your left hand out of the kitchen sink to point to the engagement ring on your finger. You found yourself now laughing even harder at Javi’s audible sigh as he snuck behind you, flushing his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, practically feeling the weight of his signature puppy dog pout drooping on you.

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m not gonna not do anything. And you deserve much more than pizza.” Javi sighed, pressing a kiss on your cheek, squeezing you in his grasp just a little tighter, making you giggle as he flipped you around to face him, caging you under his broad body against the kitchen counter. “You have to let me do something for you, Hermosa.”

“I don’t know Jav, pizza does sound really good. You really think you’re gonna be able to top pizza?” You teased, raising your eyebrow at him and sporting a sarcastic smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Oh shut up, you dork. Seriously, Osita. I totally get if you don’t wanna do anything big, but, I am not doing nothing for my beautiful fiancé on Valentine’s Day. You deserve it. How about this? If you don’t wanna go out, then I am making us reservations here at Restaurant Peña.”

“Oh, Restaurant Peña? They must be new around here, never heard of them before. Does the chef take requests?” You smirked, biting down on your lip to keep your goofy grin from growing between your cheeks, only giggling more as Javi leaned in to pepper ticklish kisses across your face.

“Normally, no, but I have a feeling the chef can make an exception for you.

“Does the chef make pizza?”

“The chef will make fucking pizza if you want pizza.” Javi laughed, rolling his eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around in a fit of laughter before setting you down on top of the kitchen counter, slotting himself in the open space in between your legs and digging his fingers into your hips. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll make it for you.”

“You choose, Chef Peña. Surprise me.”

“Hermosa, you hate surprises.”

“Well, then whatever you’re making better be good.” You shrugged, cocking your head to the side with a smug grin.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, no shocker there. Seriously though, thank you, Javi. This is really sweet of you. You know you don’t-”

Cutting you off, Javi brought his lips to yours, cradling your jaw as he swallowed the rest of your sentence, making your heart flutter from the electric kiss your fiance had just given you to politely shut you up.

“I know I don’t. But I want to. Te amo, tozuda (I love you, stubborn).”

“I love you too, pendejo (jerk). Now help me down, I have dishes to finish and a menu to plan for Laredo’s newest top chef.”

As you pulled up to the parking lot of your apartment, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Javi had already beat you home to get a head start on your Valentine’s Day dinner, laughing to yourself in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky that you had found someone that genuinely cared this much about making something so special just for you.

As you fumbled for your keys and pushed open your front door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence.

He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.” He cooed, now pulling away from his embrace to reach behind you for the bouquet of daisies that had been hiding on the entryway table, handing them over to you with another peck on the cheek.

“Javi, these are, baby, these are beautiful. Did you- you left work early just to do all this?” You grinned, burying your nose in the flowers before looking around the living room to admire the setup Javi had prepared for the two of you, finally meeting his soft, sweet gaze staring down at you.

“Maybe. You’re Restaurant Peña’s first customer, wanted to make a good impression. Speaking of which, dinner is almost done, and as much as I would love to do nothing but stand here and kiss you, the chef doesn’t want to be the first meal he serves to be burned to a crisp.”

“Well in that case,” You paused, giggling as you pressed up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his plush lips, “I better go change for this classy event. Can’t wait to see what the chef has in store.”

Handing your flowers back to Javi, you set down the rest of your things from work, and quickly scampered back towards your bedroom, peeking back out of the doorway to shoot Javi a quick wink, making him quietly laugh to himself as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head, trying to hide the completely lovestruck smirk plastered all over his face before heading back to the kitchen.

Gently closing the door behind you, your face mirrored Javi’s, heat creeping through your cheeks, grinning to yourself as you made your way to your dresser, starting to shuffle through your top drawer, looking for personal Valentine’s Day gift for your fiancé that had been hidden away under your folded piles of socks and underwear.

After digging for a few moments, you felt the lacy texture running through your fingers, pulling out the new lingerie set you had bought a few days ago to surprise Javi with. You quickly shimmied out of your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket next to your bed before slipping the delicate fabric over your body. Although this wasn't the first time you had surprised Javi with an outfit like this, you’d never get over his awestruck reaction, watching his eyes grow wide with his hungry gaze, ravishing in every inch of you, barley keeping himself together enough even remain coherent as you revealed yourself to him.

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you pulled one of your nicer, fitted black dresses out of your closet, hiding the matching red bra and thong held up by the lacy garters around your thighs, quickly touching up your hair and makeup from your long work day before making your way back out into the kitchen to greet Javi, back turned to you as he picked up two plates off the counter to bring to the table, nearly dropping them in the process as he turned around to see you standing in front of him.

“Fuck me…” He muttered under his breath, his jaw nearly dropping as he gave you another once over after looking you up and down, having to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, having enough sense to set his plates full of food down on the table before they ended up on the floor. “Baby, you look- fuck, you look fucking stunning.”

“I heard Restaurant Peña’s a nice place, figured I should dress for the occasion. Plus,” You smirked, taking the few steps to close the space between you and Javi, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing up on your tiptoes to giggle in his ear, “I heard the chef here is really sexy. I’m really hoping that he’s free after dinner so I can treat him to some dessert.”

“Jesus fucking Christ… Hermosa, if you keep talking like that, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.” Javi groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked down at your mischievous grin, letting out another deep breath as his hands traveled down the curves of your waist, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, kneading it over the fitted fabric covering it. “Fuck… can we just skip dinner and go straight to des-”

“Javi! No! You made me this whole delicious meal, I am not letting you skip this because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, giving Javi a playful nudge, taking a step back to cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him to tease him, even you knew damn well you would have been more than happy to give in to Javi’s plan, but the gurgle in your stomach and the inkling you were going to need some energy for the night ahead gave you enough logic to at least have some rational thinking left in your brain.

“Fine…” Javi sighed, holding up his hands in defense, laughing at your sassy remark, stepping back to the table to put both your plates in their rightful spots before making his way over to your chair to pull it out for you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you sat down, the hot breath of his words dancing across your neck as he spoke. “Can you blame me when you look like this? You keep fucking teasing me like that, Hermosa, and dessert’s about to get very interesting.”

You could feel the rasp of his voice shoot straight to your core, your thighs instinctively clenching together to try to keep the ache growing between your legs at bay, letting the softest moan escape from your lips, using every ounce of brain power you had left to try and conjure up some sort of response.

“Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Depends, which one do you want it to be?”

“Whatever the chef wants.”

Although the dinner that Javi had cooked was absolutely delicious, after adding a few glasses of wine during your meal to the already thick and palpable sexual tension in your kitchen was not helping either of your causes, the two of you probably rushing through eating much faster than you had intended to when the night had begun.

Taking the final sips left in your glass and watching the last bits of your plate cleared, all your inhibitions had been thrown out the window, giving Javi longing look as you stood up out of your chair, pushing in your seat and slowly slinking your way over to Javi, lifting your leg over his lap as you straddled him in his spot, your hands slowly running up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning button by button as you nipped at his ear.

“So, are you ready for dessert? I think I have a treat for you that you’re gonna like.” You rasped, trailing kisses across his neck and jaw, your lips meeting his in an electric passion, catching the muffled moan escaping his mouth as you began swirling your hips feeling the bulge beginning to grow in his pants.

“Fuck… Yeah? You gonna tell me what it is, huh, Hermosa?” Javi groaned, his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pressing you down further into his crotch, making you whine as you felt his hard length beneath you rubbing against you, only fueling the fire burning in your stomach and the wet patch growing in your underwear.

“Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out.”

You could barley finish your sentence before Javi was tightening his grip around you, standing up out of the chair to lift you up as he stood, carrying you to the bedroom as you stumbled down the hallway, becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth as the back of Javi’s knees finally hit the bed, situating you back in his lap. His hands roamed relentlessly over your body, letting his hands creep up your thighs, pushing up your dress high enough to stop in his tracks as he felt the lace of your garter band, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the realization of what treat you had to offer for him.

“Oh fuck… Baby, are you- what do you have on under here?” He asked, breathlessly, very clearly knowing the answer before he had even asked the question, his hands now pushing further up your legs, his fingers dancing across the delicate waistband of your thong as he looked up at you with his pleading brown eyes, now growing darker and darker with lust.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi.” You mewled, reaching behind you to unzip the back of your dress, letting it fall of your shoulders and reveal the red bustier underneath, the floral, lacy pattern leaving very little to the imagination, and leaving Javi’s jaw to practically drop to the floor as you showed off your hidden outfit.

“Osita… Fuck… This all for me, sweet girl? Jesus Christ.” he practically whispered to himself in disbelief, soaking in every inch of you as you stepped of back off his lap to let your dress fall to the floor, unveiling your lingerie in its entirety in front of him. Letting his elbows rest on his knees, he brought his hand over his mouth, gaping open in awe, soon balling his hand into a fist and biting down on his knuckle as you slowly turned around in a circle, showing off all angles of yourself before meeting Javi’s gaze again, smirking to yourself at the incomprehensible mess your fiance had become.

“You like it?” You giggled, raising a knowing eyebrow at Javi as you stepped back towards him, running your hands up his strong thighs hanging over the edge of the bed, letting your fingers barley brush over the undeniable tent in his pants, teasing at his belt buckle before dragging your hands back down, resting on his knees.

“Y-yeah, I- yeah, fuck.” Javi gulped, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to find a way to string together a coherent sentence as you let your fingers trace over his legs and crotch, melting into a puddle under your touch.

“Yeah? I had a feeling.” You smirked, now palming at the bulge in his pants more firmly, eliciting another audible moan from Javi, his breath becoming heavy and shaky as you sat yourself back over his lap, your ass resting perfectly on top of his erection as you began to slowly swirl your hips over his. Your hands worked their way down the rest of the buttons of his shirt, creeping between the parted fabric to rest your hands on his bare chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you sucked at his pulse point, whispering against his skin. “You gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, baby?”

There were few times in his life where Javier Peña had found himself at a complete loss for words, but you had him wrapped around your finger as you sat in his lap, all dressed up just for him, whispering sweet praises in his ear did something to him that even he couldn’t quite comprehend. Truth be told, the only thought he could process right now was the all too familiar clench in his stomach and tightening in his balls leaving him on the verge of busting in his pants before you had even touched him.

Scrunching his face in concentration, Javi nodded rapidly as his hands dug a bruising grip into your hips, every grind of your ass against his crotch only tightening the undeniable knot in his gut. Javi was convinced he’d be strong enough to keep it in check, as long he could use every ounce of his being to focus on not falling apart. But that was before you decided to fight dirty and press every button you knew to make Javi absolutely crumble.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby. You want me to touch you, Javi? Let me make you feel good, sweet boy.” You cooed, nipping at his ear as your hands ran through the thick, dark curls of his hair before sliding down the width of his broad shoulders, sliding his shirt down his arms and gripping around his biceps as you sunk your hips deeper and deeper into his lap.

Before he even had time to process what was happening, Javi found himself instinctively bucking his hips up into you, holding on to you for dear life as he let out an absolutely wrecked moan, slumping his head into your shoulder as you felt a warm, wet sensation begin to spread below you.

“Fuck… Fuck me…” He whispered, silently cursing himself over his shallow breathing, making you pause in confusion as you looked down at Javi, taking a moment to quickly piece together in your brain what had just happened.

Javi had just cum in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“Javi…Javi, did you just-”

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck me.” Javi grimaced, running his hand over his face, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling, his cheeks turning red in pained embarrassment, not even able to bring himself to make eye contact with you until you brought your hand under his cheek, gently cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze onto you, locking his lips in an intense kiss before either of you had the chance to speak.

“Well, that’s a first.” You giggled, trying your best to lighten Javi’s clearly distraught mood, feeling his pouty frown through your kiss. “Javi, it’s okay, we can just- Oh!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s back was to the bed, dragging your body across his chest until you were straddling just below his shoulders, his hands digging into your ass and pulling you closer towards him.

“Nuh uh. I just need a few. Lemme make you feel good, baby. Please. Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you, please, Osita.”

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself like this- you being the one who turned Javi into a whimpering and babbling mess, begging for forgiveness. And even though it was a position you found yourself in often, you very well knew that you were going to take advantage of every last second.

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on making it up to me, Javi?” You cooed, cocking your head to the side apathetically, arms crossed over your chest as you sat straddling Javi’s.

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Fuck, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I wanna taste you so bad.” Javi moaned, his sweet, brown eyes pleading with you for just a taste of the arousal that had been steadily pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” You paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a passionate kiss, your teeth tugging at his plush bottom lip as you pulled away to nip at his jaw, “and what if I still want you to fill me up after you’re done? What if I need you to fuck me full of you?”

“Jesus fuck…” Javi groaned under his shallow breathing, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Hermosa. I promise.”

“Good boy.” You mewled, running your hands through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair before shuffling your body so your lace covered and soaking heat was hovering over Javi’s face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit, nudging your panties out of the way. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced your hands by burying them in his hair, tugging at the ends of his thick curls.

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You cried, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone.

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning. Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high.

Dipping his tongue into your hole, his muscle plunged into your cunt, drinking up your arousal while the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, making good on his promise to redeem himself from earlier, not letting up until he felt your body tense and legs begin to shake as you came again, feeling about as sturdy as a pile of jello at this point.

Your body went slack, draping your upper half over Javi’s body as you felt his face free from out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin and pleading eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gazing back up at you.

You had caught your breath enough to sit yourself back up, looking over your shoulder to see the bulge in Javi’s pants was back in full force, slowly scooting your way down his chest and stomach to sit yourself back on his lap, grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you began to gently tug at the straps of your bra, letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up like you promised? You smirked, slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor and leave your top completely bare.

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.

“Good.” You smirked, “Gotta ask nicely, though.”

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his pants down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had left additional stains on his boxers, mixing with his premature spend from earlier.

“Hermosa, please. Please, baby. I need you to fuck me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft.

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the arousal that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him.

With his shaft sufficiently slick, the both of you gasped as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. Can’t wait to feel you dripping down my thighs. Gonna keep me full of you all night.”

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly.

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.”

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone again. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your bedroom as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.”

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.”

It wasn’t often that you had seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom, and holy shit, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Javi had already cum once without you even touching him, and now, he was so worked up he was teetering on the brink of falling apart again.

In a frantic desperation, Javi sat himself up, caging your chest against his, wrapping his arms around your back as he held you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck, sweaty curls of his hair resting against your shoulder, while he fucked up into you, each thrust becoming reckless than the last.

“Oh fuck, Javi, fuck, don’t stop- fuck, fuck, I’m gonn-ahhhhh”

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as you felt your body go numb, euphoria flowing through your veins while Javi fucked you through your high, quickly chasing his own.

“That’s it baby. Fuck, Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” Javi quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside your pussy, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth.

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, his body still slumped into yours until you began running your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look back up at you, the blissed out grins on both your faces making you let out a quiet laugh of surprised disbelief at what had just happened.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier Pena.” You giggled, cupping his face, tilting it up towards yours and locking his lips in a long and tender kiss.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby. Fuck, that was hot. Sorry, uh- sorry about earlier.” He sighed sheepishly, gesturing over to the very thoroughly stained pair of pants now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“It’s okay. Definitely a good confidence booster if me putting some lingerie on for you is enough to make you blow your load faster than a middle school boy.” You snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge as he rolled his eyes at you, letting out a little sigh.

“Shut up. You have no fucking idea. God, you’re so fucking sexy, you know that? I can’t believe you get to be my Valentine for the rest of my life. I’m a lucky fucking man, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I could say the same, handsome. I love you, Javi. Alright, what do you say we go clean up so we can have real dessert. I have a whole plate full of cookies left over from our class party, along with some very questionable candy from several 3rd graders.”

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

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adriennebarnes · 2 months

Text

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

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nu-suave · 3 days

Text

OH NO! HE'S IN LOVE! feat. kamo choso

word count. 1191

summary. choso, realising he’s in love and trying to navigate the aftermath. a/n: my best friends found this account. hi pookies x also, this is a reupload, so if you've seen it before that's why <3

It takes Choso a while to figure it out. It’s a natural process with him; irregular texts becoming daily conversations, taps on the shoulder to catch your attention turning into clasping your hand in his whenever you’re in public, words of affirmation becoming constant sweet comforts. He doesn’t even realise how close you’ve gotten until you’re making dinner together one night, Yuuji on the phone with Megumi in another room. You’re leaning into his side, one hand resting where his forearm meets his bicep and the other stilling the spoon he holds onto, bringing it to your mouth for a taste.

“It tastes really good,” you compliment. You smile at him, eyes coy from where they flash between your lashes. “You’ve been improving really quick, Choso. At this point, you’re a better cook than me.”

“You know that’s not true,” he says. “I learnt it all from you. And Yuuji.”

“Yeah, well, neither of us are ever beating Yuuji in terms of skill,” you laugh to yourself, letting go of the spoon so as to lean back against the counter. Your hand stays resting against his skin, a burning warmth that has his breath leaving his throat in a soft exhale. “Still, it’s good. You’re making me jealous - if only I could have you as a personal chef. Eating like this every night… what a dream.”

Oh.

In three small words, it clicks into place; what a dream. Choso is suddenly, overwhelmingly hit with the thought of it. You and him, living in a small house and cooking dinner together every night. Yuuji passing by, calling you his elder sibling alongside Choso, making a joking comment about how clingy he is with you. Sharing a meal, just the three of you, washing dishes side by side so close your shoulders are brushing, constant idle conversation floating between the two of you as he washes, you dry. Yuuji complaining about schoolwork at the kitchen counter as you hum in acknowledgement, complaining in turn about what happened in your day. You two at the end of the day, one bed between the pair of you, his arms wrapped around you or you around him or maybe interlocked with each other, breaths mingling in the small space between your faces as you succumb to sleep. You running your hands through his hair, him burying his head in your shoulder. The ability to talk about you as his partner, his spouse, his one and only. For you to drag him before your friends, lay your head on his shoulder, and mutter the words this is my boyfriend, Choso.

What a dream, indeed.

He wants so intensely it hurts, so intensely he doesn’t realise you’re trying to catch his attention. His attention focuses on you like it belongs there, eyes resting on the face that, now that he’s thinking about it, he’s long since memorised. Your lips are curling into a playful grin, eyes alight, and your hand moves to flick his shoulder. “What’s got you so distracted? The idea of being my personal chef is that unappealing, huh?”

“I’ll make it for you whenever you want,” he says fervently, “just ask. I’d love to cook for you.”

“Oh.” You blink, smile twitching as you move to cover your face. You’re bashful. “You’re such a sweetheart, Choso. I was just joking.”

“I’m not.” He clears his throat, missing your hand on his arm, leaning into his space. Fingers twitching, he carefully leans forward, his hand covering your own from where it rests on the edge of the counter. Your smile remains unchanging, as if this is a normal occurrence; in context, with this new - or rather, something that’s always been lurking there, only now brought to light - feeling churning in his gut and sending tremors to his heart, he realises it is. Affection has always come so easily when it’s with you. His lungs are too small, breaths too shallow. Is it bizarre, to feel as though you’re the air he breathes? “I enjoy cooking with you. For you. I like being around you.”

“What’s got you feeling so affectionate?” You ask, head turning until you’re gazing slightly to the right of him, teeth digging into the skin of your bottom lip. “Is something up?”

“No,” he says honestly, “nothing’s up. I just wanted to tell you that.” His grip on your hand tightens. His heart is going to burst, blowing out of his chest and onto your skin until you’re left with all that remains of it. All that remains of him. God, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “You mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah?” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your mouth, settling softly in his chest. “That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” He ducks his head, sure his cheeks are bright with his affections. “You make me sweet.”

Instinctually, he knows what you’ll say next; you’re so cheesy, Choso. How many romcoms do you have up there, polluting your brain? Instead, your hand flexes underneath his, studiously avoiding looking at his face. “Don’t just say things like that. You’re so easy to misinterpret, you know?” You complain lamely. It falls flat on both of you.

“Maybe,” he says slowly, shyly, “you’re not misinterpreting.”

Your head jerks towards him, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. You’re so unbelievably pretty with this expression. You’re always pretty. Choso is so, so lucky to have met you. “I– well–”

“Hey, how’s dinner goin– uh, hi?.” Yuuji emerges, eyes wide as he owlishly takes in the two of you. You jerk in surprise, hands scrabbling from their position at the edge of the counter. Two things happen; your head butts into his own, sending you both reeling, and your elbows are shoved back, knocking into the salt, and it’s a twist of fate that has it tumbling open straight into the half-finished meal. All three of you stare at the open salt floating in broth surrounded by its previous contents, you significantly more horrified. Yuuji breaks the sudden silence. “Uh, sorry for intruding.Not to be rude, but maybe we should get some take-out…?”

“Right! Take out!” You brush past him, rubbing your cheeks aggressively with both hands. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. What are you up for, Yuuji? Let me grab my phone, I’ll pay. I’m thinking Vietnamese?”

“Sorry for bursting your bubble,” Yuuji says sincerely as you rush out of the room. “You guys looked, um, pretty close.”

“Yeah,” Choso swallows, “yeah. We were.” He rests his palm atop where your head had banged into his, taking in the dull heat throbbing beneath his hand.

His baby brother snorts. “I’m really happy for you, by the way. Ever since you two got together, you’ve been a lot happier.” His brows furrow. Yuuji, being as smart as he is - no matter how much his friends like to joke otherwise - immediately rolls his eyes. “What, you think I wouldn’t notice? I’m not blind. I know you’re trying to keep it quiet or whatever, but it’s really obvious.”

It really isn’t obvious, Choso thinks, not obvious at all. Hopefully, in the near future, that can change.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso x reader #choso x you #chousou x reader #kamo chousou x reader #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #chousou kamo x reader

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pupkashi · 11 months

Text

migraine

gojo helps ease the pain of your migraine

a/n: hi friends ! i hope you’re all well and this brings you a bit of comfort when you need it <3 love u all so much :] (also theoretically could he use rct on u and help u idk so let’s just act like he can’t)

wordcount: 695

masterlist

it’s been hours since you got back home, head throbbing and tears pricking at your eyes from the pain. you’d done everything you could to ease the migraine, yet nothing seemed to help you. your efforts to fall asleep were fruitless, with the pain being too much to let you sleep.

you’d wanted to get the migraine pills from the cabinet, but you feared moving even an inch would send your head spinning in more pain.

it’s not much later that satoru walks in, you can hear the door open and close, his usual loud greeting is quick to die on his lips as he realizes the dark state of your shared residence.

he’s frowning as he enters the room as quietly as he could, whispering so he doesn’t make your migraine worse.

“have you taken medicine?” the slight shake of your head has you screwing your eyes in pain, tears slipping out. satoru doesn’t say anything as he grabs the two pills from the cabinet and a cup of water, helping you up and handing you the medicine.

you mutter a small ‘thank you’ before you close your eyes again, sighing in pain.

“you ate?” another shake of your head. gojo doesn’t berate you, as much as he wants to scold you he knows now isn’t the time, and he isn’t one to talk about self care.

so wordlessly he leaves, making a quick meal for you paired with caffeinated green tea, bringing it back to you and quietly asking for you to eat before you try and sleep again.

you try to refuse, making some sort of hissing and groaning noise, telling him to leave you alone, but even then he doesn’t budge. he only politely asks for you to at least take one bite.

minutes later you’re eating the food, finishing everything and thanking him quietly. he only smiles at you, asking if you need anything else from him.

when you say no he’s heading out the bedroom door, ready to leave you by yourself in hopes your migraine would pass quickly.

“toru” it was barely above a whisper, but he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to continue, “will you stay?”

the words make your lover smile, his heart growing warmer in his chest as he replies with an ‘of course i will,’ hurrying off and washing the dishes before changing and slipping into the bed next to you.

you don’t waste time burying yourself into his side, he’s holding you closely, massaging your scalp gently. it’s only the sounds of the world outside, the whistling of the wind and the occasional dog bark. you can hear gojo’s steady breathing, your mind clearing a bit as you focus on his every breath rather than your racing thoughts that seems to make the pain worse.

it’s been an hour or two when the pain subsides enough for you to fall asleep, satoru doesn’t mind that you’ve trapped him underneath you. he’s more than happy to wiggle a bit and make himself cozy next to you, falling asleep with you despite it only being 8 pm and the sun only barely setting.

satoru doesn’t mind taking care of you when you get migraines, he’s patient and understanding, doing everything in his power to help ease your pain as much as he could. it doesn’t matter to him if it’s only an hour long or if it persists for days, he’s there to make sure you eat, drink and rest enough.

satoru is grateful when you finally tell him you’re feeling better, he’s scolding you for pushing yourself too much, an angry pout on his face that’s quickly kissed away by you.

“promise me you’ll try and get more rest?” he’s asking, he knows you’ll pull another all nighter the moment you have too much work to do.

“I’ll try angel boy” you reply, pulling him into your arms and letting his head rest on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair.

you were grateful to know when you got a migraine, there was always gonna be a snowy haired sorcerer at your side doing his best to help you.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru comfort #gojo satoru x reader comfort #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

he’s acting different ~ eminem

word count: 2275

request?: yes!

“Hi! :) I wanted to request one about Eminem, Marshall has been behaving weird with reader, she thinks he doesn't love her anymore and well it generates a bit of drama, but in the end Marshall proposes to her and this surprises her because she thought he wouldn't want to marry again. Thanks!! :D”

description: when he starts acting weird and distant, she starts to worry that it means he doesn’t love her anymore

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Marshall wasn’t one of PDA. You knew that since you had started dating. His public image was that he was cold, never smiling or showing any type of emotion, and you were more than okay with that. You understood that PDA didn’t fit into that image. But behind the scenes, he was the polar opposite. He was very affectionate and romantic, which was why you were so okay with things being so different publicly.

So, when he started acting the same way in private as he usually did in public, that’s how you knew something was up.

You wouldn’t say he was acting “cold” per say, but he was definitely distant. He never seemed fully present when you were together, like he was deep in thoughts about anything besides what the two of you were doing. He was also being secretive when he went out. Usually he’d tell you upfront about where he was going, but lately when he would go out, he would give you a vague answer; usually just saying, “Out”. There was nothing wrong with him wanting privacy. He was an adult after all, he didn’t need to tell you every little thing. That didn’t make it any less weird that it was happening.

Your mind was constantly racing, trying to find answers on why he was acting this way. Was it something you did? Or something you didn’t do? Had you forgotten a big event? An anniversary? There had to be some explanation.

There was one idea that kept floating around in your head that you almost didn’t want to believe, but it seemed the most plausible: he had fallen out of love with you.

After another instance of Marshall slipping out with a vague answer to your questions, you called your best friend to voice your concerns to her. You were nearly in tears as you explained everything to her, the feeling of losing Marshall becoming more real now that you’ve said it out loud.

“Hey, calm down,” she said in a soothing voice. “Have you talked to him about how you’re feeling?”

“No,” you said, your voice wavering with the threat of tears. “I’m afraid he’ll just confirm my suspicions.”

“Talking to him will help though, (Y/N). Whatever the outcome is, it’ll be better to know than for you to be worrying like this.”

You knew she was right, but you were afraid of the knowing. What if your bad feeling was right and by asking Marshall, you triggered the end of your relationship?

But she was right, you couldn’t spend all your time worrying. So, you decided that you’d confront Marshall about it when he got home. Until then, you would just have to anxiously wait for his arrival.

You tried to keep yourself busy so the time would pass quicker. But every time you glanced at the clock only a minute or two had passed. One hour felt like a lifetime and you weren’t sure you were going to be able to wait hours for him to get home.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait as long as you expected. Marshall arrived home in the late afternoon, surprising you by coming to find you in the kitchen while you were washing some dishes and wrapping his arms around you for a tight embrace. You giggled as the scruff from his beard tickled your neck while he gave you a kiss.

“Do you wanna go out tonight?” he asked.

“Out where?” you asked.

“To dinner. I got us a reservation at that place where we had our first date.”

You turned to look at him with a shocked expression. You only ever went to that restaurant on anniversaries to celebrate your first date, and it certainly wasn’t an anniversary. You would hope you wouldn’t forget if it was.

Marshall chuckled at the look on your face. “What’s that look for?”

“Why are we going there?”

“Maybe I just want to take you out for a special evening. We haven’t had a date night where I’ve gotten to take you out for a while. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No!” you said, quickly. “No. That sounds lovely. What time are we going?”

“The reservation is 5:00.”

You finished the dishes and went to get ready for the night. You spent more time than you should’ve trying to pick an outfit. You weren’t sure how dressed up you should be for the evening. It felt like Marshall had a special evening planned, so you should probably try and get dressed up and put on makeup, but maybe it wasn’t supposed to be that special since it was a random weekday night. Part of you also wanted to make yourself look as good as possible since you were still worried about what his recent aloofness had meant. It felt like Marshall’s sweet, loving side that you were so used to had come back out of nowhere, which you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

You ended up choosing a knee length dress, both casual and dressy in a way, and a pair of ankle booties, with light make up to top it all off. You felt you looked good enough for whatever Marshall had planned for the night.

You were brushing out your hair when you heard Marshall’s voice at the bedroom door. “Good thing I gave you such an advanced notice. You’ve been up here for hours.”

You smiled at him through the mirror. “I had to make sure I looked good for this date night that was brought to my attention so suddenly.”

Marshall crossed the room and leaned over you where you were sat. “You always look good, honey.”

He leaned to kiss you, but you put a hand up to stop him. “Don’t mess up my lipstick before we go out.”

He grabbed both of your hands and quickly gave you a kiss before you could push him away again. You giggled and playfully pushed him away.

Things seemed to be going good as you arrived to the restaurant, but you couldn’t shake the thoughts in the back of your mind about how he had been acting before. Even if things were better now than they had been, there were still so many questions that hadn’t been answered. Namely, why had Marshall been acting so different? And why had he so suddenly changed moods again?

You were seated at your reserved table, which was located in a more secluded area of the restaurant away from the rest of the customers who were dining. It wasn’t the exact spot where you two had been seated during your first date, but it was close enough. You remembered Marshall giving the host a big tip for the most private table you two could get so that you could have a real first date, not one where he would be hounded by anyone who happened to recognize him throughout the night.

You were looking at the menu when Marshall reached over and took your hand in his. “Are you alright?”

You looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just glad to be out.”

He gave you a look. “You forget that I know when you’re lying. What’s up, honey?”

You sighed, looking down at the menu again to avoid any eye contact. “I just...I have some...stuff going through my mind, I guess.”

“What kind of stuff?”

You had spent the day rehearsing what you were going to say to him, but now that the time had come it was like every single thought in your head had disappeared.

“Are you...still...happy in this relationship?” you finally forced out.

You felt Marshall’s hand tense against yours, which made your heart rate spike. Had you been right this whole time? Was this really how you were going to find out that he was breaking up with you; in the restaurant where you had your first date?

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean.” You paused to sigh and finally lifted your gaze to look at him. He looked concerned, which you hoped was a good sign. “You haven’t been...present lately. When we’re spending time together, it’s almost like you’re thinking of other things or like you’re waiting for it to be over so you can leave. And then, when you do leave, you’re super vague about where you’re going. Obviously, you don’t have to tell me where you’re going if you don’t want to. We’re both adults, we’re entitled to our own privacy and freedom and shit. It’s just not like you at all...and it’s kind of worrying me.”

Marshall opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your heart was hammering against your chest as you waited for him to say something, anything. Anything would’ve been better than the silence.

“I am still happy,” he finally said. “I never meant for you to think that I wasn’t, or to think that what was going on was because I’m not happy with you.”

“Then what was it?” you asked. “Was it something I said or did? Or didn’t do or say? I’ve been going crazy over this the last week or so, and even more crazy over it tonight because it feels like a switch was suddenly flipped back on and you’re back to how you’ve always been.”

He went to respond, but was cut off by your server approaching the table and placing a glass of champagne in front of you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. For one, you never drank when you were with Marshall (in support of his sobriety, and also it made you feel weird to drink in front of someone who was recovering from such an addiction), and two, you hadn’t even placed your order yet.

“Oh, I think you brought this to the wrong - ”

But your protest died off as you lifted the glass to give back to the server and you noticed something inside of it glistening in the light. When you looked closer, you saw that there was a beautiful diamond ring inside settled on the bottom of your glass.

You looked up at Marshall to see him barley able to contain his smile. “This is why I’ve been acting different lately.”

Tears started to form in your eyes as you realized what was going on.

“I’m not going to get down on one knee just because I don’t want to cause a scene in this restaurant full of people,” he said, “but I can make up for that when we’re home if you want.”

“Are you serious?” Your voice came out in a whisper, almost like he had been telling you a big secret.

Well, I guess he sort of is.

He chuckled and nodded. “I’ve been trying to plan out the special evening you deserve for a moment like this. I figured there was no better way than taking you back to the place where I first fell in love with you, and asking you if you’ll do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife.”

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle a sob of happiness from coming out. You glanced around to make sure no one was looking before you stood, leaned across the table, and took Marshall’s face in your hands in order to kiss him. You quickly composed yourself and sat back down before anyone noticed the scene.

“Was that a yes?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

He looked like he was ready to jump across the table and take you in his arms, but managed to restrain himself. You looked at the beautiful ring in your glass again, trying to reach your fingers in to grab it. You huffed out a sigh as you realized the glass was too long and your hand was too big to fit into it.

“Why did you put it in a glass of champagne?” you asked.

“I thought it would be the most inconspicuous way to propose. Also, champagne is always used for special occasions, so I thought that made the most sense.”

“You don’t even drink!”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have to!”

You both looked at each other and began to laugh. Marshall took your glass and poured the contents of it into his empty water glass. He retrieved the ring and held it out to you. You presented your left hand to him and he slid the ring onto your ring finger. It nestled perfectly against your skin, still wet from being at the bottom of a glass of champagne.

You couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful it was, the lights of the dining room shining off of the diamond.

“I’m sorry I made you think I was unhappy,” he said, drawing your attention back to him. “I was planning this for weeks. I wanted it to work out and for things to be perfect. I didn’t even realize that I had been acting differently.”

You shook your head. “You are definitely more than forgiven. I can’t be mad when I know now what the reason behind your strange behavior was.”

He chuckled. He took your left hand in his and brought it up to his mouth, his lips brushing against your knuckles; against the beautiful ring that now resided on your finger.

Words could not describe how happy you were in that moment. Weeks of worry finally lifted from your chest as you looked across the table at the love of your life; your fiancée.

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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toxic3mmy · 4 days

Note

I’m having a bad case of baby fever since I’m ovulating hard and I need fic of quackity with gf who’s ovulating like crazy and who’s begging for a baby

ooo baby fever!!! the only person in the world that i would ever want a baby w is alex😞😞 but yes, i got u my lovely <33 thx for the request

[also it cane out a bit diff than what u asked for im sorryyyy!! dont hate me bbg💔💔]

prompt: alex dealing with a baby fever filled gf

no smut but mentions of it ofc!!

everywhere you look, there’s babies. on tv commercials, at your job, even at the grocery store there’s always a baby who won’t stop smiling and cooing your way.

and who would make a cute baby? alex, your boyfriend, that’s who!

he has sparkling honey brown eyes with dark lashes framing them perfectly. his fair skin that has freckles and beautiful face moles. and his hair! he has a full head of hair that would look absolutely perfect on a sweet little baby.

lately, on your free time, you were indulging in this want and need and desire for a baby of your own. you were sneakily watching mommy and baby vlogs. you loved seeing their belly grow and their journey through their pregnancy. you even subscribed yourself to a baby magazine and it was what you looked forward to every time you checked your mail.

but you hid all of this from alex. you knew he probably wouldn’t understand. just how most men don’t understand why women obsessed over weddings and wedding planning. it also didn’t help that you were definitely ovulating.

and right now, you were sat listening to your boyfriend going on about his day. well, not really listening. more like admiring him and imagining him as a father and wow did that turn you on.

“what about you? how was your day?” alex asked suddenly

“oh, you know, i mostly just did my online coursework and cleaned the house a bit. i’ve been bored since you went out..” you said, trying to be inconspicuous

“trust me, i missed you too. now let’s eat. the food you made smells amazing” alex said, getting up to serve himself a plate

he served two plates of food, one for you and one for him. the two of you ate in mostly silence, with casual conversation here and there. once you finished eating, alex offered to wash the dishes since you did the cooking.

you sneakily pulled out your phone and scrolled through your pinterest. of course, you had baby related posts all over your feed and you loved it.

“babe.. this sponge sucks. where are the new ones we got the other day?” your boyfriend asked

“should be in the drawer next to the stove” you absentmindedly responded, eyes glued to your phone

alex opened the drawer and found your stash of baby magazines. he wasn’t blind, he knew what you had been obsessing over lately. this was the perfect time to bring it up. so he grabbed a sponge and washed the dishes. after drying his hands, he turned to face you.

“so… you’ve only been studying all day huh?” alex smirked, holding up one of your prized magazines

your eyes widened. you were at a loss for words.

“i-i uh… my sister is pregnant and um she sent me those to help her pick stuff out and—”

“hmm, addressed to our home to ms. y/n” alex interrupted

“do you think i don’t know by now? i see the way you’ve been looking at anything baby related online. i know you always volunteer to do the grocery shopping just for the chance of running into some mother with a baby… my question here is, why hide it?”

“i didn’t think you’d understand… i know how guys get when their girlfriends start talking about babies and i don’t know. i didn’t want to upset you. i didn’t want to make things weird between us..” you explained softly, expecting alex to get upset

he walked closer to where you were sitting and tucked your hair behind your ear gently.

“i could never be upset with you princesa. you don’t have to hide things like this from me. you know i love kids just as much as you do” he reassured you

you nodded sadly, still feeling a sense of guilt.

“why don’t we start trying?”

your eyes lit up and a huge grin was etched onto your face.

“you really mean it?” you asked and alex nodded with a smile on his face

“i would just adore having a little munchkin running around here. i think you’d be a spectacular mother y/n. i can just imagine them having your big ‘ol eyes and your pretty lips” he caressed your face sweetly

“and your gorgeous freckles… oh my god alex! we would have the most adorable baby in the whole wide world! do you actually want to start trying?”

“yes i do, princesa. we’re in a good place financially and also in a healthy place in our relationship. i wouldn’t want to have a baby with anyone else but you” he smiled

“you’re going to be such an amazing dad. you don’t know how much i’ve daydreamed about you holding our baby in your strong sexy arms. the way you would be super protective over them. i just know you’d have our baby on your chest at all times. you’re so innocent and precious and so so good with kids alex. you are definitely daddy material” you stood from your seat and reached out to hold his hand

“also.. i may or may not pay attention to your ovulation period…” he said seductively

“what?! why? you’re a weirdo!” you teased him

“no! i mean i pay attention to when you write those notes on our calendar! you freak” alex was red in the face and you couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered expression

while you were too busy laughing, he suddenly stood up and pushed you against the wall nearby, trapping you there.

“you’re probably really sensitive right now, aren’t you?” his voice came out in a darker tone

“m-maybe…”

“let me make love to you, princesa. quiero impregnarte ahora mismo. quiero que me sientes y que sientes que te hago la mama de mis hijos chula…” he said, making sure to kiss your neck while he spoke

all you could do was nod. his words alone made you so wet and needy for him already.

“i’ll make sure that after tonight, you’ll definitely become a mother” he smirked, dragging you to your shared bedroom

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic

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star-wrote · 16 days

Note

hello❤️i just saw your blog! im irish so i was wondering can you do whatever fic you write with an irish reader? i think the accent and the slang difference would be fun to read! you don’t have to specify the fic on r being irish just a fic wheres r is irish hope i could explain that!😅

Leannán

ao3 link

Characters: Farm Era Daryl Dixon x Irish!Reader

A/N: so excited for this request !! thank you love! i have irish heritage so this was so fun to write(and also incredibly self-indulgent). i decided on daryl since it would be the most difference in accents:) also feel like i totally didn’t do this justice, it feels kinda short and rushed…but i had fun so slay!!

Warnings: fluff, love confession, bad accent writing, cursing, reader is sort-of mentioned to have green eyes(very self indulgent), reader knows irish gaelic (yes i know the language is practically dead, it’s just so pretty)

Word Count: 605

not my character | images from pinterest

Making fun of your accent is one of Daryl’s favorite activities.

You know he likes to see your face get all red, cartoon steam coming out of your ears. It reminds you of the little boys on the playground who would push you to the dirt as a way of flirting.

Not that he would ever admit that it was flirting.

Luckily, you could take the teasing… and dish it right back.

“You sure are one ta talk; what with your grunts and yee haws.” You shove his shoulder as he eats his breakfast with you by the fire.

“Ain’t say yee haw,” he pouts, “and ya jus’ say weird words fer things. Like tha’ one fer kiss.”

You smirk at him. “What, póg? Why, ya want one?”

“Stop.” He rolls his eyes.

That’s how your usual conversations with the arm-swinging grump went.

Days on the Greene farm were usually quite relaxed after the chores for the day got done. You’ve found yourself drawn to Daryl more and more after every conversation, his soft spot for you becoming apparent to everyone. Maybe it’s because you both felt like outsiders in the group. In a weird way, you felt like he understood you… even if he quite literally couldn’t sometimes.

“Shite.” You curse under your breath. Lugging water to the house from the well was tough work, but work you’d rather be doing compared to washing clothes or making food. Curse you and your feminist ambition.

“Need some help, Irish?”

You blush at the nickname that has become common from the mouth of Daryl Dixon. “I do, please.” You sigh as you hand a bucket of water to him. “Why are you back so early? The sun’s only mid-sky.”

“Was hopin’ you’d wanna go on a hunt with me. Could use the help.” He grabs the other bucket from your hand as well, carrying them both with no difficulty.

“I doubt that you, mister hunter man, king of the wild, actually need help with hunting. But, I’ll gladly join.” You smile while stretching out your sore back.

He finishes your chore for you, Lori tossing a “thanks” over her shoulder on your way out of the farmhouse.

Hunting with Daryl feels like one of the most peaceful things in the world, obviously ignoring the occasional walker.

You trail quietly behind him, soaking up the nature around you while he does all of the work.

However, you know he wouldn’t have it any other way. He just likes your company.

“Ya know… yer eyes remind me of the woods. My favorite place.”

You’re sure your eyebrows raise to your hairline after hearing his statement. You’ve never heard him speak so directly before.

He stops abruptly, causing you to walk into his back.

When he turns around, you can see the blush that reaches his ears. He was nervous.

“Daryl, what are you trying to tell me?”

He kicks at a clump of grass. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t, it’s okay, you can tell us.”

He smiles a little at you using “us” instead of “me.”

“I think I like ya, Irish. Nah, I know I do.”

“I like you too ya eejit.” You punch his shoulder.

It’s his turn for his eyebrows to raise to his hairline. “Really? Ya don’t have to jus’ say that.”

Instead of responding with words that you know would fall short in reassuring him, you pulled him into a hug.

“Leannán.” You whisper into his chest.

“What does tha’ one mean?”

“Darling.” You answer while smiling up at him.

He tucks your hair behind your ear and gently kisses your lips.

“I like tha’ one.”

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jukipptx · 7 months

Note

heyy can u do when u secretly learn mandarin for chenle and when he finds out he teases u about it lovingly? tyy if u do 🫶

this one was a bit hard 😭😭😭 but your idea was so cute i haaaaad to try ��😭😭 hope you like it 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

chenle did everything for you. he picked you up everywhere, he ordered food everyday, he bought you pretty expensive gifts, he carried you from the sofa to the bed, he did everything so you could live on auto pilot. he always said he wasn’t romantic ??? but he was the most loving boy you’ve ever met. his love language was taking care of you. so you thought that it was time for you to take care of him.

you had tried several times, but he would never let you do anything. you would try to make breakfast, but he always woke up first on purpose. you tried to make the bed, but he tackled you during your attempt. you tried to wash the dishes, but he distracted you with kisses and kissed you all the way to the sofa. he always said he was fine and that he invited you to live in his place just to have some peace and fun and quoting him “live happily like a baby” 🙄 so it took you some time to figure out what you would do to help. you thought maybe you wouldn’t try to help, but you would surprise him somehow and do something nice.

so next month chenle’s family was visiting for a few days, they also gave him some days off, so he decided it was time for you all to meet 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 so you decided that you would start learning chinese so chenle wouldn’t have to translate every single thing during the meeting (it was so serious to you omg). it would be a very hard challenge, it took you years to start to understand korean, but you would give it a try because you just loved him so much and everything he did for you. you still had a month till the visit was happening, so you got to work.

you struggled so much omg 😭😭😭 they said it would be easier if you already knew korean, but it wasn’t!!! also it was being super hard to hide from chenle. he almost caught you like a hundred times while watching videos.

“what are you doing?” he creeped behind you and smirked. you just locked your phone quickly. “nothing, don’t be nosy.” you just rolled your eyes, pretending you weren’t nervous.

when the day came, you were also soooo nervous. what if you didn’t understand anything at all???? what if it’s harder to understand a real chinese person than a chinese teacher????!!!! when chenle spoke on the phone with chinese members, you tried to overhear, but it was so hard. he spoke too fast and sooo lazily. you never understood a thing. you were only hoping for a miracle when meeting his mother. fortunately enough, miracles do happen sometimes.

her mother greeted him in chinese. they hugged and shared a few words, and you could also somehow understand that she was scolding him for ??? being so skinny ???

then she looked at you, gave you a big smile and hugged you hard as well. whilst hugging you, she told you how she was so happy to finally meet you, how you were so pretty, and she also started scolding you for being so skinny. you actually understood all of it!!!! 😭😭😭 you simply responded with a smile and a “thank you” in chinese.

when chenle was about to translate you stopped him with a proud look on your face.

“what my mom is trying to say is-“ he started but you interrupted.

“oh i understood.” you smiled at her and then told her “i’ve been learning chinese.” she just smiled back and held your hand lovingly. chenle just smirked and kept quiet. you kneeeeew the teasing would come eventually.

when his mother left, it started. it took him exactly 5 seconds to start. the second he closed the door, you could hear him mock you.

“oh i understood.” he mocked you. then he hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. he planted little quick kisses in your cheeks.

“stop it.” you tried to break free from his hold, but it was stupid to try. he was way stronger than you. he started walking towards the sofa and inevitably dragged you along.

“you were so cute, i almost cried.” he held you tighter, even lifting you a little from the ground. then he sat down on the sofa and pulled you in his lap. he squealed which made you jump a little. “i’m sorry, i just can’t believe how cute that was.” he kept on hugging, and started swinging you from left to right.

“stooooooop.” you threw your head back, letting it rest in his shoulder. he took this opportunity to kiss you soundly on your cheek. you wiped it and he gasped dramatically, but then he went back to teasing.

“aigooo baby you’re so cute i might cry.” he pressed his cheek on your cheek and started jumping in his seat with a big smile on his face.

“stop teasing or i’ll regret it.” you threatened with a serious voice. he just squealed some more.

“no but that was really nice, really really. thank you baby. my mom was so happy. you’re such a nice and cute person. i love you.” he kissed you on the cheek again.

“love you too.” you turned and kissed him too 😭😭😭😭

#nct dream #7dream #nct #nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream reactions #nct dream timestamps #nct dream x reader #nct fic #nct fluff #nct chenle #nct dream chenle #zhong chenle

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scribble-dribble-writes · 10 months

Text

Plastic hearts - (5)

<<<Prev Next>>>

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Blast from the past

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As you stood there clutching your chest, all your emotions catching up to you at once causing your eyes to leak, a door behind you burst open.

You turned towards the creaking sound to see a man step out. Another Ken most likely, but he didn’t hold himself like one. He was scowling, his fingers pinching his nose as he mumbled hastily pacing up and down this alley way, oblivious to your presence.

But when you sniffled, his head whipped up to see you, his face flooding with a brief second of relief before it crumbled further into anger. An expression you knew well now.

“You.”, he pointed a finger at you.

“You’re hours late.”, he said dramatically and you weren’t sure what the confusion was about.

“I think you’ve got me –

But he didn’t give you a moment to explain before he got a hold of your elbow to begin to lead you inside the establishment.

“I told you specifically to dress professionally, not look like some vintage grandma who makes butter cookies.”, he said, his words having an edge to it. You began to understand that although it sounded like a compliment, it wasn’t meant as one.

But the dark hallway passed to reveal a hot and steamy kitchen environment. Not many were around, but the vessels were bubbling and the dishes piled up. It reminded you of your shop, except that you had it well organized unlike the disarray around you now.

There was an older woman seated by the counter top, chopping tomatoes with a steady hand. Although she looked frail, the precision of her knife could only have come through years of practice. But just seeing her stopped the clock for a second. The wrinkles around her eyes, the only one to give you soft smile, the silent confidence with which she held herself. You had never seen anyone like her.

“Melissa, here’s your hired help.”, he set you in front of her but did so with a slight shove as though you were disposable.

“Not only was she late, she’s also dressed for the circus.”, he rolled his eyes looking down at your rollerblades. He moved away from you, to roll up his sleeves to begin prepping his station.

“Sam.”, the old lady chided him but it was incredible, she did it with just a slight alteration in her tone.

“Did you give her a chance to explain?”, she asked to which the man on the other side huffed.

“Just so she can tell me what I already know?”, he started to add his ingredients into his soup.

All his comments were beginning to alter your melancholic mood. It was as though a fire had sparked within you and with every word he spoke, it only began to grow bigger.

It was all in reverse here, for the first time ever, you began to truly feel how hurting it was to be in Ken’s shoes. To be spoken for or spoken over. To assume, to push aside another person just because you could.

“She’s here now, that’s all that matters.”, Melissa smiled at you and it felt comforting.

“Anna, a close friend of mine from the orphanage said that a girl she knew was looking for a job.”, she began to explain.

“It’s not much but I do really need an extra hand around here apart from Sam.”, she spoke as she slowly moved around to mix the salad together.

Even though you hadn’t known them before, you could pick up on the slight tension in the room. It almost looked like Sam wasn’t too happy with your presence being here.

“We’ll get you started with washing dishes first but as time progresses I could –

“You are only hired for a month, so during that tenure all that is required of you is to just wash the dishes and help with the flow during rush hours. Nothing else.”, he jumped in again.

But this time, Melissa only pursed her lips as she gave you an apologetic smile.

“What is your name?”, she asked trying to simmer down the heat in the room.

But the question only then reminded you that you never officially had a specific name. A name apart from the brand that felt personal, you could only remember one. As much as you wanted to forget all of it, all of him. You couldn’t.

You could still remember it now. The exact way he reclined by the window in your bakery, the way the sun seemed to always make him have that golden glow. He was impatient for you to finish the cupcakes he had ordered to present them as a surprise to Barbie but it was how he called for you in a sing song voice that it made it impossible to let this memory go. It had made you smile once, it still did.

If you were a cheesecake, I would call you Brie.

Only he would call you that, out of his silly nature to poke fun and somehow as you stood here feeling out of place, you knew it would strengthen you to move ahead with whatever this opportunity was.

“Briella.”, you nodded along.

Thinking about that unforseen start to your life in New York made you feel all the more grateful that in this cruel world, you met Melissa. She took you in under her wing. She was from the orphanage herself, she didn’t have children and her husband had passed early on in her life. But even through all that, she kept her wonderous smile.

Barbie land was a distant memory now, the skates you had first arrived with now in some cardboard box somewhere. But after five human years, you had achieved what you had come here for. To forget Ken and to understand yourself. You couldn’t remember how blue his eyes were. Or the sound of his laugh. Or the feeling when he pushed you away. None of it. You were very much a human now, so much so that you had no interest going back home.

Sam progressed to become the owner and star chef of this small deli that now was a fancy restaurant. You, however, were only allowed to progress to higher roles based on your skills that were assessed by one of Sam’s close circle of culinary school friends. And every time, the result would be unsatisfactory.

At first you thought it was your fault. You questioned your skill and talent. But as days passed, you soon began to understand this world’s working principle and how because you were a woman, you’re promotion was never going to come.

It grew more difficult when Melissa too passed with time. It wasn’t too long since when you had put together the funeral, but she was very much like a mother to you. Teaching you everything, from etiquette to ideals and what it means to survive as an independent woman. She helped find your identity and now your world was rocked to the core again.

Barbie land was cruel in it’s perfection while the real world was depressing for its mortality, only that losing a loved one hurt more than words could describe.

As you laid on your bed staring at the ceiling, hating the norms of this world, the status division, the unequal pay, the true woman experience of always having to be judged ten times harder or having to work ten times harder, you were now well versed that this world was a man’s world.

Your phone lit up with the notification of a text message and you picked it up with no motivation to get to work. It was from Sam with another petty task that wasn’t even in the kitchen.

“We’re catering for a local public school’s parent teacher meeting. Make sure you get there on time.”

You put it away. Sam loved his position of power and used it to also be a very difficult boss or maybe he just enjoyed making your life even more miserable. You were sure that nothing with regards to this party was even organized or ready. You got out of bed, having hardly slept, the sharp beep of your clock when the time read as six in the morning meant you had time to grab some fresh ingredients from the local market.

As predicted, nothing was set. So you put together the team and the menu for the day, did the prep, go to the location to set up, to begin the event and start serving orders, all while the acclaim and credit went to him as he turned up late to interact with the parents to get more funding, funding where not one cent was put towards kitchen repairs. Tolerating him now made you grow more bitter.

All the men you had dealt with so far have all been mediocre or worse. No one saw you, not here, not in Barbie land and listening to that stupid Ad made it impossible for you to imagine you could break out of that box or to reimagine your life because this was how good it was going to get. You can’t be anything or do anything in a world that has already pre-defined your value and trajectory of life.

You took a break to step out and heard the sound of kindergarten children in the playground. It was hard, to watch little girls carry dolls when their dreams could never get to be real. The fresh air was soothing. This uniform had become another form of containment, that what once was a mark of honour now became a cage.

All you craved now was a tenderness that you were convinced this world could never offer. A tenderness that was often present in Kens back in barbie land. But searching for that, here, was another foolish attempt. So you turned to leave when you heard a child squeal.

“Mister Ken, you made it.”

Your heart dropped, your feet wanted to run, while your eyes wanted to look towards the noise.

“I told you I would.”, you heard him speak and your eyes snapped to this approaching man.

His dirty blonde hair mixed with darker roots, his rimmed glasses and tucked in blue shirt that matched his stellar eyes. You stood in awe as you saw him, a near perfect replica of your Ken or most likely the only Ken to exist on this planet.

You pinched yourself in the hopes that this was a dream or a hallucination because all the memories you had forgotten about him only need a refresher to come back to flood your mind.

The children ran to him and he greeted them with the same warmth he had before. You couldn’t move, your feet stuck to the ground as you watched him. It was as though he had sensed it too, the way his gaze shifted from the children around him to slowly find yours. His blue eyes widening in surprise as he got up slowly, shocked as though he too had seen a ghost from the past.

“Brie?”, he asked and you were sure this was all make believe.

The stress got to you, from the deprived sleep and the grief, your knees wobbled and felt yourself begin to fall. So you did, in the hopes that the ground might treat you a bit nicer that your life had.

---

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#barbie movie 2023 #barbie movie #barbie #ken barbie #ken carson #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling #ken x reader #im just ken

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hypequeenves · 27 days

Text

Before the Hotel

This is Chapter One of: Before the Hotel. It is a written work detailing a little bit of what life was like for Vesper before the events of the Blog. Word Count: 2684

Chapter One: Old Grudges Everyone loves a good game, the push and pull of power - the delicate dance of ownership. It begins with a glance, a look across a crowded club – a singular moment of recognition sparking the flame for a blaze of new circumstances.

The prize?

In hell, a bed of sinners all scrambling, scampering over one another to reach the top – there really is only one prize worth winning.

Something far more precious than mere material possessions. The acquisition of one’s very being: their soul.

Angel knew this dance all too well. He knew the give and take, being trapped slowly, limb by limb, not realising the danger until he had already lost.

This is how he found himself where he was right now. Outside the very tower that holds him prisoner on a daily basis – the Princess of Hell standing right next to him. A quick look at Charlie’s face showed him a reflection of his own apprehensive emotions.

With a deep breath, Angel swallowed the lump in his throat – uncharacteristically quiet.

“Are you sure we should be here?” Charlie’s voice was clipped, her usual peppy cadence flattened by the weight of all that’s been left unsaid.

“You want the hotel to succeed?” Angel’s reply was stilted but cut an edge of resistance.

“You know I do” Charlie’s hand finds his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Then we need her”.

A look of resolution paints Angel’s face as he steps forward, the automatic doors of the Vee’s tower opening obediently as he strides forward.

The screams, shouts and sirens of Hell deaden as the doors slid closed behind them. The familiar thudding of bass, enveloping the two – Angel recognises it as her music. The kind of pop-rock that worms its way into your head, and before you know it you find yourself humming the lyrics while you wash the dishes.

With a small squeeze from Charlie’s hand, Angel recovers enough to put one foot in front of the other. The pounding music gets louder, the deep base vibrating the walls.

“So…” Charlie pipes up, filling the silence with nervous talking. “How did you meet her?”

Angel shrugs nonchalantly, hoping to summon the look of indifference. “She works for Vox, who works with my Bos-“ he cuts himself short “-with Valentino”.

Angel takes a few more strides before he finds himself also needing to fill the quiet. “She- doesn’t like me much”.

Charlie tilts her head, frowning lightly. “Why?”

Angel runs an anxious hand through his hair. ” Cause I, well you know how I am – how I was before this Hotel shit.”

Charlie nods sagely, understanding Angel’s boundaries enough now to not press the subject further. “Gosh, but a pop star – I’ve been listening to her music since she debuted.” She looks up at Angel trying to judge his reaction, his gaze is still fixed down the hall. “Even Vaggie likes her music.” Angel looks down at her, a cheeky smile on his face.

“No fucking way!” He laughs “Now that’s a surprise.”

Charlie nods in agreement.

“Vesper is…” Angel tried to think of a nice way of putting it “a bitch” he sighs giving up. “Just be prepared for a rejection – I-I’m not even sure she would want to talk to me.”

Angel pulls them to a stop, the door standing impassively in front of them bearing her name, the V looping from a heart into the rest. Charlie adjusts her grip on Angel, swinging him gently to look at her.

“Angel, you are the sweetest, the kindest guy I know” The pep slowly comes back to her tone as she continues “Maybe you weren’t great to her back then – but you’ve grown up a lot since then.” She grips two of his hands and smiles widely at him “You’ve got this! We are doing this for Sir Pentious!”

Anthony takes a deep breath and Angel comes back to him, grinning widely.

♫ ♩ ♫

A heeled boot taps impatiently against the tiled floor of a dressing room. Deep thumping music keeps rhythm with the sharp clicking of her foot.

Inky black boots give way to a dusky pale blue ankle, the splattering of freckles found there trails up to curved hips barely contained by a tight skirt. Above which holds the plane of a flat stomach and a set of Satan-gifted tits.

Said pair of long legs and tits, sits, leaning back in a chair, the backrest emblazoned with her name. One hand scrolling absentmindedly on her phone, the popstar holds a can of sickly-sweet energy in her other – taking intermittent sips.

A team of stressed-looking imps dance around her, pulling and pinning her obnoxiously floor-length hair into a high ponytail.

The picture of a perfect pop star.

Vesper was having a good day. A great day even.

Hour 13 of the music videos for her new EP was going smoothly, as was the ad campaign for said EP and she was having a merciful break from the sweaty studio to boot!

Her thumb double tapped on a photo – Vox, arm wrapped tightly around her waist as she gives the camera the middle finger – wolfish grin plastered on her face. His lips curled into one of his most impressive megawatt smiles, the caption reading: ‘My seventh year working with this absolute powerhouse of a pop star! This one’s for you Ves, here’s to seven more!’

A small fond smile creeps up on her face; he remembered their anniversary.

Speak of the Devil.

A sharp shock of wrists and ankles brought Vesper out of her fond stupor. Vesper’s smile fell, giving way to her normal petulant frown.

“There’s my money maker!” the sound of classic poker slot jingles emended from a spot behind her head.

A middle finger was all Vesper gave the man she called Boss as a greeting. The clicking of wingtip shoes against the tile, a steady hand tilted her chin up from her phone, her eyes found the mirror in front of them.

“What’s got Hell’s favourite Siren so out of sorts?!”

Vesper gave the man a harsh glare through the mirror framing them both perfectly.

Vesper hated when he would do this, checking in on her. You’d think seven years was enough time to gain a modicum of trust from old Pixel Brain, but she had underestimated just how much of a control freak he could be.

It was seven years ago that Vesper had signed the contract. Eight years since she had brute-forced her way into his office proposition in tow. Eight years since that night.

A metallic hand slid around her shoulder, the cold metal leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. Vox’s hand found what it was looking for – a chunky V-shaped cuff that clung to her neck. Similarly shaped cuffs adorn her wrists and ankles. Some might say jewellery, but they both knew what it was: a physical manifestation of her contract. A visible message to everyone - herself including – just who owned ‘Hell’s Favourite Siren’.

Vesper wasn’t dumb, nor was she naïve. This was a purposeful transaction. Vesper was a businesswoman at heart, and since her fall into Hell; Vesper had put that heart into action.

Vesper dropped her phone, the sparkling blue tech vanishing into the ether. Handing her drink to the awaiting hands of her hell-born assistants Clay and Cole the popstar finally spoke.

“You messed up my hair with your static bullshit” she growled swatting at his claw and playing with her necklace.

A chuckle came easily to Vox, his companion had always been quick to temper. It seemed he was drawn in by those with a short fuse.

“Apologies, you know I always want you perfect.”

“Let Clay and Cole do their job then! Go back to whatever crawlspace you apparated from and Let. Me. Work.” The popstars ever tapping feet, accelerated – the music keeping up with the tempo change. Electric guitar picks up in the melody – adding a sting of what could only be described as frustration to the catchy beat.

Vox’s steady fingers started working, combing through her tresses, pinning, teasing, and spraying her hair into the perfect high pony. She could feel the drag of cold metal against her scalp, it felt like a ripple of electricity zipping up her spine.

As he finished, he leant down – pressing the plastic of his screen against her cheek. “See. ꝑēɍӻēȼⱦ.”

Vesper rolled her eyes at him a small smile betraying her fondness of her boss, before pushing him away again before standing.

Vox watched the star stretch out - arms above head, assessing her face, the cut of the clothing, the shape of her hips. A hum of satisfaction passed his lips, He had chosen well when he decided to take a chance on this nobody sinner.

“How long do I have?” Vesper grabbed her drink back from Clay. Even when talking her voice was trained, and measured, phone appearing from nowhere in her hand she turned away from him.

“Ten minutes, forty-five seconds-“ Vox is cut short as two figures breech the door of Vesper’s dressing room. Vox’s signature smile falls at the sight of his least favourite porn star. Before his eyes widened at another truly unexpected sight; Charlie Morningstar.

He snuck a glance over at Vesper, trying to gauge her reaction to the unlikely pair walking through the door. Her face was painted with a look of indifference, but the grip on her drink was so tight that her knuckles were white.

She was angry.

His smile returned quickly “Miss Morningstar!” the lanky man quickly cleared the distance between them slinging a casual arm around the princess. “What a surprise! What brings you to my beautiful studio?!” He leans in more lowering his voice “I heard your last trip here was rather… warm?”

You could cut the tension with a knife.

Vesper cocks one hip to the side “Better be careful of any electronics in the area Boss, no one likes a re-run”.

This elicits a chuckle from the CEO, and with a confident stride forward, Vox takes his place standing right next to Vesper again.

“You are so right Ves, so, Charlie - how can WE help you TODAY?!” He pulls Vesper in by the waist and raises an eyebrow at the two expectantly.

“Well…” Charlie begins, pushing down the growing sense of anger in her stomach. “As you know, the Hotel is having… a hard time recruiting new demons.” She pauses, desperately trying to find the right words. “And we were hoping… that Vesper…”

Vox’s grip on Vesper’s waist tightens possessively at the sound of Vesper's name.

“Would come play shows at the Hotel! It would draw in new people and it would be so much fun and you could meet all of Angel’s new friends…” Charlie continues quickly and excitedly like the floodgates of a new idea breaking open. But her speech was nothing but static to Vesper's ears, she was furious. Her eyes pinned Angel to the wall, her grip on her drink coiling, closing until it crumpled under her grip. The sticky liquid flowed down her wrist and fell in droplets from her elbow.

The song blaring against the speakers sharply changes, heavy metal piercing through them.

“God, you are just the WORST.” Vesper's voice was filled with unending malice. Sharp and cruel, an entirely different tone than when she snaps at her boss.

“Oh, here we go…” Angel huffs rolling his eyes.

“After all this time, no calls, not even a fucking text” the star begins to take slow strides towards Angel. “And now, when I’ve finally made something of myself - here you are” Another stride arms stretched wide, she was closing in on her target.

“I would feel bad for you knowing how absolutely pathetic this is, but that would mean I gave a FUCK about you, and clearly” the pop star gestures to the room around her “I’ve got better things going on”. Vesper finally closes the gap, poking Angel directly in the chest. Charlie shifts quickly, pushing Vesper’s arm away from Angel – standing between the two. Horns growing, hair flowing.

Angel was right, she is a bitch.

Vesper laughs, moving backwards – ignoring Charlie completely, centring her deadly glaze on Angel. Her look was probing, assessing; like from one look, she could know everything about someone, right down to their underwear choice. Like she was taking in all eight years of change

‘Using more people to hide behind? Wow, we really have ascended Angel, whose dick did you have to suck to get the Princess of Hell to stand up for you? Never mind, we all know the answer is everyone and anyone” Vesper’s arms crossed with a satisfied smile. The music fades, the tension in the room so thick that you could reach out and grip it.

“And… CUT!” Vox strides back up to Vesper, arm slung around her shoulder – the red dot on the upper right corner blinking off. “That’s gonna go viral Dove.” He whispers into the crook of her neck. Vesper’s smile turns wolfish.

“Well! Looks like you got the answer you came here for!”

“Fuck. You. Ves.” Angel grits out through clenched teeth, his one golden tooth gleaming under the room's neon lights.

Vesper raises a single delicate eyebrow by way of response.

“Okay, I think that’s our cue to leave Angel” the Princess begins to shuffle Angel out of the room.

“You’re so fuckin’ sore about something that happened eight years ago! You should really take the time to bend over and remove the stick from your ass. Uptight bitch doesn’t suit you, Nessie” Angel threw out her nickname like a soldier would throw a javelin.

The spear finds its target. Vesper’s grin drops, contempt quickly replacing it. Vox’s grip tightens as she goes to take a step forward, keeping her in place.

‘I’m surprised you have time to be concerned with my ass – when your heads so far up your own, Toni” She pulls out the weapon made of something that used to be fond and hurls it right back at him.

Before it finds its mark Vox interrupts them “You should listen to your therapist Angel. She seems like the smart one between the two of you.” He pauses looking Charlie up and down before adding “And that’s saying something”.

After one last long glare between Angel and Vesper, the dressing room door slams shut, leaving the two separate pairs seething.

♫ ♩ ♫

“Fucking CUNT – I can’t believe that shit!” Angel spat, one of four hands running soothingly through his locks. “I mean I expected it to be awkward, she had a vicious tongue even back then – but fuck me! That’s not the same Ves I knew”.

Angel was pacing, back and forth in the dingy alley flanking the Vee’s tower. Charlie’s eyes follow back and forth as he does so, seemingly lost for words.

“The Ves I knew, hated Vox. She didn’t take any bullshit from no one”

A flash of a memory: Vesper lying on his couch legs draped lazily over the armrests. It was a quiet moment after one of Val’s episodes. She chucked a note, the folded butterfly landing smoothly on his desk.

“You hold more power than you think Toni. Remember, you’re the prize – not him”

Stuck back into the present - Angel’s pacing paused, turning to his wide-eyed companion.

“How could someone change so much in so little time?”

Charlie hums thoughtfully - taking her time to answer, “You know how you put on the mask of Angel?” Angel gives a single nod in affirmation. “Well, some people just forget it’s a mask – they don’t take it off and it just becomes who they are”. Charlie pats Angel on the shoulder “I think I’m done with this place Angel, let go home”.

Angel agrees it’s been a long night – though a small thought nagged in the back of his mind.

Would he have turned out like that if he never moved to the Hotel?

Guess he’ll never know; he really did luck out when Charlie found him on that corner.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hellaverse #oc #the vees #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin hotel art #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel fandom #vox x oc #vox hazbin #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust #hazbin charlie #original character #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel

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adiluv · 9 months

Text

❥ COMPOSER / BLOODY QUEEN + COOKING HCS. ˚⊹꒷

🕊️୧・꒰word count꒱ total—1605, frederick—816, mary—789.

🌸୧・꒰warnings꒱ possibly ooc ꒰mary꒱, not heavily edited.

🐇୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! i ended up adding mary to this request, since i thought it would be interesting to have a character that could cook with one that can't. ꒰i also just love mary ♡꒱ hope you enjoy! ꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱˖⁺‧₊˚

જ⁀➴ frederick kreibrug, the composer. ˚⊹꒷

꒰🎹꒱・Frederick can only be described as a natural perfectionist, and this trait isn’t something that so easily disappears whenever he enters the kitchen. After all, he’s lived his entire life with expectations being piled onto him by both his fans and his family—and while he may no longer have any affiliation with them, such high external pressures do eventually tend to seep in. Regardless of what the subject matter may be, if he doesn’t do something to the very height of his abilities, then what’s the point of doing it at all?

꒰🎹꒱・As such, he’s the type of chef to use a recipe and follow it to. The. Tea. His amazing memory tends to become extra useful in remembering the steps, his muscle memory even allowing him to get near perfect measurements every single time. Similarly to memorizing your favorite music pieces, I do also think he’d be quick to memorize any dishes you mention your enjoyment of. He also does his best to avoid using any unnecessary cookware, as he’s never been a big fan of having to wash everything afterwards. At least within the manor he’s not always the one that has to clean the dishes after meals, though the survivors that do can appreciate his efficiency.

꒰🎹꒱・He’s most experienced with savory dishes, mostly due to his attempts to recreate the food he’d eat before being disowned by his family. They’d been quite insistent on the importance of eating well, believing that one couldn’t perform their best if they did so on an empty stomach—a sentiment that Frederick continues to carry despite their estrangement. He will pile extra food onto your plate if you have a match coming up, especially so if he knows that the hunter is one that you tend to struggle kiting against. There have been times where other survivors have attempted to tease the both of you for this… though the silent look that he gives them tends to ruin the mood.

꒰🎹꒱・Even if he doesn’t have the time or energy to make something for you, he’ll still be sure to ask whether or not you’ve eaten properly before you head over to the waiting room. He’s quite menacing with it, too, even though you know he means well—and he’ll absolutely nag you if you respond in the negative. Did you lose the match? Oh, how unfortunate… Perhaps you got too distracted by the sound of your stomach rumbling at some point? Next time, you should make sure to eat properly before running around. Did you win the match? Well, congratulations! But you didn’t eat too well beforehand, no? You must be starving. Go sit down, he’ll quickly prepare something.

꒰🎹꒱・Depending on your personal threshold for spices and seasoning, you may or may not find Frederick’s food to be in need of a little extra flavor. He’ll be slightly surprised if you end up bringing this critique to him, not really seeing much of an issue with it himself. He’d probably assume that he messed up on the recipe somewhere along the way, so it’ll take a bit for you to convince him that while he does follow things with extreme precision… there are also times when breaking away from the recipe can help. Although it takes him a bit to fully accept that conclusion, he’ll still allow you to add additional seasonings to his food—and deeply appreciate it once he realizes how much better it is.

꒰🎹꒱・Regardless of how much more he enjoys your additions, I don’t see Frederick as having a particularly high spice tolerance—though his poker face works wonders in hiding that. In most cases, so long as it’s not extremely spicy, he can manage to maintain his composure until the meal is over and he can chug as much water as his heart desires. However, when that method fails him he’ll become red in the face ꒰which he still tries to keep straight꒱ and awkwardly fidget within his seat. Offering to go and get him some water will result in him looking at you like you’re an angel.

꒰🎹꒱・He’s a big fan of cooking with you, despite the extra mess and time that it’ll take. Granted, it does take him some time to get him to loosen up entirely—perfectionist tendencies shining through when you first start—but the activity does come to grow on him by the time your food is ready. I don’t see him as the type to be too goofy with it, though he’ll humor you most of the time. He’ll often ask if you’d like to make something with him when his brain gets too fried from compositions, and there have been many times where you’ve had to guard your creations from the other survivors. It’s fun, to him, and you might even find him drifting away from the recipes of his childhood over time. No need to remember them, in his eyes.

જ⁀➴ mary antoinette, the bloody queen. ˚⊹꒷

꒰🪞꒱・Mary, on the other hand, has absolutely no idea how to cook—though this isn’t exactly something that you could blame her for. Having been regarded as a member of the nobility for the entirety of her life, eventually even rising up to the title of queen—she’s never had much of a reason to bother herself with learning. Especially so considering that she had personal chefs to do the job both more efficiently and skillfully than she could ever dream of.

꒰🪞꒱・This inability of hers to fend for herself in the kitchen isn’t something that changes when she enters the manor, either, considering that she’s one of the undead residents. Make no mistake here, she could eat if she desired to—in fact, she actively enjoys swooping in and stealing the food of living hunters—but she faces zero consequences if she decides not to. With that in mind, stepping foot into the kitchen isn’t exactly something that she does often. If I’ll be honest, most of the hunters would be totally fine with keeping her out of the room as a whole, too.

꒰🪞꒱・Not only is Mary very vocal about her displeasure of being forced into something so ‘unbefitting’ for her status, but all the more concerningly—has nearly burnt down the kitchen during each and every one of her attempts to make something. It’s gotten to the point where even Joseph—who’s not the greatest cook himself—jokes that asking Mary to cook something is the same as setting off a ticking time-bomb within the kitchen… though the downright nasty glares that she sends over in his direction are quick to shut him up. You can’t help but find it a little funny, but I wouldn’t recommend saying that to her face.

꒰🪞꒱・While I do think she’d initially be less than welcoming to the idea of finally learning how to cook, she’d probably also give in if you ask her enough. She’ll insist that the only reason behind her agreement was due to how ‘annoying’ your repetitive begging and whining was, but she simply just hates to see the sad look on your face whenever she denies your requests—a truth that the both of you are well aware of. Do be warned, however, the task of showing her how to cook is far from easy, and you’ll have to stay by her side throughout the entire process. She’s clueless, but at the same time refuses to ask for help when she needs it. She’d probably be the type of person who believes that turning the oven to the highest temperature will cook the food faster—and you’re honestly lucky that the manor possesses no microwaves, because she’d absolutely put metal inside of one.

꒰🪞꒱・Another product of her upbringing, Mary has exceedingly high standards when it comes to food, with you being only partially spared from her high expectations. She will, however, gush over anything that she manages to make, believing it to be incredible despite any criticism she receives. Once again, her status as one of the undead hunters does protect her from issues such as food poisoning, leading her to eat all of her creations with a straight face… all while you’re physically convulsing from how terrible the taste is. She initially becomes offended by your reaction, but calms down slightly once you remind her that your stomach is far more sensitive than hers.

꒰🪞꒱・Despite how prideful she is, she’d feel utterly horrible if you became sick from eating one of her meals, and the entire thing would lead her to wanting to give up on cooking as a whole. I already see her as the type of person that becomes frustrated whenever she’s not immediately good at something, and seeing her significant other getting sick because of her certainly doesn’t do much to help. Although, assuming that you do convince her to continue cooking once you recover, I do think that the entire experience would get her to open up to suggestions. She’d hate to see you suffering within the infirmary for something avoidable, after all.

꒰🪞꒱・Considering her sweet tooth, I think that Mary would likely be more invested in baking than in cooking, even if it’s the harder of the two. ꒰Though she certainly isn’t helped by the fact that her favored pastries are more on the luxurious side.꒱ While it would require quite a bit of time—which you have an abundance of within the manor, anyway—she’d probably really only learn how to make some more basic dishes. Of course, it’s still amazing progress considering her starting point, so I don’t think she’d mind all that much. Be sure to deliver a few compliments of your own, too. She enjoys seeing you smile, especially when she’s the reason behind it.

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coff33notforme · 1 year

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Housewife!Ghostface

A/n: I decided to write this impulsively at 2am because I've been holding onto this idea for a while now. If you guys like it I'd be happy to do a part two of these headcannons or even a full fic, just let me know!

Synopsis: Modern Au with Danny Johnson where Danny has made himself comfortable as your full time housewife!

Pairing: Housewife! Danny and Gn! Reader

Housewife! Danny who wakes up before you, so that he can breakfast for you before you go to work

Danny knows all of your favorites by heart so whatever you want to eat, he’s got it down, he’s already accustomed to what you prefer to have

Danny melts whenever you give him the slightest bit of validation or approval for his hard work, you know how hard he works to please you

Housewife Danny spends most of his day cleaning up around the house, doing simple chores like vacuuming, doing the dishes, making the beds, sweeping ect.

Tidying up the house for when you return home, he only wants the best for his lover of course

Though he also leaves occasionally to run errands, grocery shopping, picking up orders from around town, among other things

But he makes sure to keep track of time so he can come home before you so that he can cook your favorite as well as wash the blood down the drain

When you return home from your long day at work Danny is there waiting to greet you with a welcoming hug, and after a tiring day Danny's strong arms embracing you against his soft, plush chest is the closest to heaven you think you’ll ever get

He’s already set the table of course with your favorite meal hand prepared by Danny himself

Over dinner Danny’s very inquisitive about your day, he’ll listen to you ramble on and on about one specific coworker whos been bothering you lately, or how you got there exactly on time, or maybe even a compliment your boss gave you

Whatever you want to talk about he’s all ears, or maybe you had an exhausting day and all you want to do is relax

He’s got you, he’ll offer to give you a message, or start up a bath for you, maybe if your feeling up for you and him could watch some TV in the bedroom, anything you want to watch

God forbid anything happens to you, if you ever come to Danny even slightly distraught he’s engulfed with rage and this is one of the only times you’ll see Danny's face shift from the warm smile he offers you to something cold, something dangerous that you can’t quite read

Though he’ll assure you he’s not upset that way his eyes show a glimmer of fury you doubt his words though you never say this to his face

He’ll never pressure you to talk about anything but he is pushy for names, if you're hesitant about giving in to his requests he’ll start sweet talking you until you give in

“Please my dear, I won’t do anything without your say so, but I need to know who brought my angle to tears, just let me fix it love.”

Though you do find it strange how seemingly out of nowhere the co-worker who had been bothering you stopped coming into work only a day after Danny had interrogated you

You’ve only know Danny to be a sweet, charming, man who wants nothing but the best for you and he’s given you no reason not to trust him, so how could you think anything of it but a coincidence

Though you never know what Danny really gets up to when he does his errands, what you don’t know won’t hurt you right?

After all he’s grown attached to the role he’s been given as your Housewife <3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!

#dbd ghostface x reader #dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #danny jed olsen johnson #jed olsen #ghostface fanfic #slashers x reader #slashers x you #slashers fluff #slashers fanfiction #ghostface headcanons

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

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Living With Ghosts: 6. Hurt

He seemed more accustomed to surviving than living—as if the military had adopted and raised him to be the man he is today.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,155

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions of blood and physical injury (gunshot wound)

Pure angst

That’s a sable. :)

Entire work on AO3

Table of Contents

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“Mating season is upon us; do not feed the sable—I repeat: Do NOT feed the sable. Over.”

That was Laswell’s last message to all the safe houses across Italy a couple of weeks ago.

“Sable” was Makarov’s code name—an odd choice for a criminal of his calibre since sables are cute and furry. Although you were unaware of his manscaping habits to argue the “furry” aspect, you knew that Makarov was anything but “cute.”

Mating season is upon us. Makarov was on the loose and closer than ever. Operators were sleeping with one eye open if they ever got the chance to do so. The job should be over soon.

Do not feed the sable. That meant one thing: under no circumstances should you blow your cover. Instead, you must keep a low profile and follow a consistent routine until further notice.

That’s what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks. You kept imitating a farmer harvesting lemons while monitoring unusual traffic in secrecy. Meanwhile, Ghost was helping you in the morning and leaving at nightfall to “take care of things.”

Everything seems to be going well so far—A little too well, perhaps.

Call it a “gut feeling,” an ��intuition,” or a “sense of impending doom.” Whatever it was, it felt eerie and lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

As weird as it sounds, Makarov wasn’t your primary concern, as he’ll soon get what he deserves. “The life of a war criminal is as profitable as it is short,” you recall Ghost muttering while cleaning his gun.

It was him who you were most worried about—his physical and mental well-being appeared to be in distress lately.

Every morning, you would catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye while he was helping you. New rips would appear on his clothes overnight, some mended, others beyond repair. “I walked through some shrubs” was his most common excuse. Shrubs don’t cause such damage; knives, on the other hand, are perfectly capable of doing so.

His left shoulder hardly moved while helping you out, so he relied solely on his right one. He also walked with a limp, which worsened every time he carried heavy crates up to the house.

He was doing everything he could to take care of himself, but there’s only so much a man can take. Soon, his wounds would be too deep to heal.

You assumed he had a difficult upbringing. You’d never dare ask about his personal life, family, or friends if he had any—but it seemed that he raised himself.

He was overly precise with how he placed each piece of garment on the clothesline. He often left you wondering how he turned chores such as washing dishes into a tactical mission. Even wearing his boots and tucking his trousers inside them seemed too…strategic.

No parent would teach their son to be so meticulous with these mundane tasks. No child would have the discipline to follow such rigid and strict rules. He seemed more accustomed to surviving than living—as if the military had adopted and raised him to be the man he is today.

Then again, you could see the light in him. It was dim and barely noticeable, but it’d fall through the cracks sometimes. Whenever he’d make you laugh, for example, a speck of light would appear, softening his tough exterior. He seemed more human with each suppressed chuckle he let out as you danced around in victory for nailing a new recipe.

Shit, the recipe—where were you? Ah, yes! The salt.

It’s impressive how cooking can stimulate such extraordinary levels of introspection.

Look at you: preparing dinner and analysing an operator’s emotional trauma while a war criminal is on the loose.

The back door swings open—he’s back; the knives and bullets rattling on his tactical vest give him away. Yet they sound different; they reveal a sense of urgency.

You turn to greet him, but he dashes for the stairs.

You catch a glimpse of something on the floor.

Droplets of thick, black liquid shine against the floor, leaving a trail that leads to the stairs.

You take a closer look—it’s not black. It’s crimson.

He is bleeding.

You sprint to the staircase, climbing two or even three steps simultaneously. Your hands are gripping the rails, pulling yourself up as if that would make you go faster.

He’s running for his room, clutching his left shoulder.

You grab a strap from the back of his vest, but he yanks your hand off and pushes you away, causing you to fall to the ground.

You get up just as he enters his room, but he shuts the door and locks you out.

“How bad is it?” You ask with your hands on the door, trying to reach him through the thick wooden panel.

No answer.

“Let me see—I can help.” You command.

Still no answer.

“FUCK! Answer me, God damn it, yell at me, show me you’re alive!”

Nothing.

There are faint sounds of objects falling to the floor, boxes opening with force, and furniture being pushed around. You sit on the ground with your back against the door.

You bring your legs close to your chest and hug them, your forehead resting on your knees.

This can’t be happening. It’s a fever dream that’ll soon be over. Simon cannot be in danger; How can he? He is invincible. He just walked through some shrubs, that’s all.

You try to concentrate on sounds, noises, grunts—anything to indicate that he’s working on it.

Focus, try to focus.

He’s fiddling with something—he’s unscrewing a bottle, its contents spilling on the floor. It must be alcohol—he is treating a gunshot wound.

“Are you shot?”

“Shut up for a bloody second, will you?”

He can talk—that’s a good thing. Right?

“What happ-”

“Ya fuck-I said to be quiet.”

You can hear quick, short gasps of air—his breathing becomes more audible with each inhale. He’s about to pry the bullet out.

You close your ears and shut your eyes, trying to block the screams. It’s pointless.

He sounds like an animal being hanged upside down to be slaughtered, screaming in agony.

You can’t help him, but you have to bear it. Bear his screams, his swearing, his pain.

Feeling helpless and useless yourself, you resort to praying. “An atheist until the plane starts falling,” they say. God must be having a laugh looking down at you right now.

The cries stop. You sit up straight, listening closely for any signs of life.

There’s a clink—it’s the bullet hitting the floor.

His breathing gradually returns to normal, his movements getting more controlled and graceful than earlier. He must be patching up his wound now.

“I’m still here.” You mutter.

“Thanks,” he replies.

He’s not okay yet, but he will be. He better be.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You need to pack your things; our cover is blown.”

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#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley #cod ghost

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