#for my mom it’s chicken tortilla soup

[waywardstation]

something Ingo hates: a certain type of food ruined by a prank Emmet and Elesa once pulled on him when they were younger and Akari finds one such food item and she is shocked to see him react this annoyed and at the idea of sharing it or eating it with her.

(I imagine there were often two against one pranks going on with either twin joining with Elesa or the twins coming up with something to annoy Elesa)

it can definitely happen that something becomes inedible after a prank was pulled.

FOOD PRANKS. They can be so funny but devistating lol.

My dad has a story of how years ago, there was a person in his office who would steal his lunch out of the break room and eat them all the time. Didn’t matter if my dad put his name on it either. This mystery worker would take it and it would always be gone by the time my dad went to get it for lunch. Every day!!!

Well he got sick of this happening, obviously. My dad would always make a sandwich, so when he had enough, he made the sandwich with dogfood instead of his usual fixings. He said when he went to get his lunch out of the fridge that day, there was his sandwich, with two bites out of it.

My dad says the funniest part to him was that the person needed a second bite to realize it was dogfood. He never had a problem with his lunch being stolen again though!!

I think the trick of just swapping out one part of the food/meal for something else would be enough to kill the entirety of it for Ingo.

Imagine Akari brings Ingo a big box of filled donuts — surely he’d like these! But Ingo sees the pack, and he sees her offering them to him. The ONLY memories that resurfaces are the times where Emmet and Elesa replaced the fillings with mayonnaise/mustard/BBQ sauce etc. and offered them to him (I imagine they’d do this repeatedly). That is his ONLY frame of reference for how those things taste, and out of reflex he rejects them and calls them awful.

Akari wouldn’t know about any of this and she’d ask him if he’s sure. Because how could he not like donuts? Ingo would say yes, he remembers having them multiple times, and every time, they were absolutely disgusting. Akari’s like oh no, he’s broken :(

[amethystsoda]

one core memory I have from childhood is making the lasagna hamburger helper a lot bc my mom actually bought the boxes so us kids could learn how to cook stuff (and it was fairly inexpensive and tasted pretty good!)

I just grabbed some boxes tonight and it feels like a bittersweet memory—one of the early forms of cooking I can remember, but also the symbol of a parent who refused to cook because she thought “everyone criticized her cooking so she just gave up.”

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Read More in the BMD-verse:

There are several more sequel stories listed under the Break Me Down Series Masterlist. Next up is a one-shot taking place a shortly after Part 17, and before this Epilogue:

Summary: You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

▶️ Next Story: In the Dark

Before you keep reading, please let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[howlsofter]

Nextdoor iii.

John Wick moved in last year but you’re just home for the summer. He hires you to dog sit for him while he’s on business trips but it doesn’t take long til you’re pushing the limits of your “professional” relationship. Part 3, first here. John shows up unexpectedly for dinner.

Words: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: nsfw, small age gap, John is 28 reader is 22, unprotected sex, p and v penetration, straight smut basically, no proofreading lol :pp nothing too kinky or insane

I don’t intend on having to face John for awhile. Not until he texts me again, or we catch each other outside. But it was only a day after the incident when I find him downstairs, standing in my living room.

“Get Mr. Wick some water, will you, honey?” My mom calls from the kitchen, I stand at the top of the stairs, he stands in the foyer peering up to me.

He raises one eyebrow, wondering if I’m going to get him his water. I try to play in cool, not throwing him another glance as I make my way down and slipped into the kitchen.

“What’s he doing here?” I ask under my voice, getting a cup out beside my mother who stood before the stove.

“Why’d you say it like that?” She scolds, “I’ve been asking him to dinner for months, he finally accepted this morning.” She stirs the soup on the stove, chicken tortilla, I can smell it.

That bitch. This was completely on purpose. I walk back to the living room, holding the cup out for John.

He looks clean, his usual black slacks and white button up. He’d showered recently, hair still slightly damp. I eye him up as he reaches out and takes it.

“Your mom really is sweet,” he tells me, taking the cup. He acts like nothing ever happened but that glint in his eye gives him away.

“Maybe you should ask her to house sit for you,” I reply, flat. John almost loses his giddy composure.

“Depends. Will she give me a little show too?” He sips the water like he didn’t just violate me. My jaw hangs open.

“John,” I start.

“Mr. Wick,” he corrects.

I was putting off my own heat, smoothing down the hem of my shirt to try to calm down. “Mr Wick,” I begin, he nods for me to continue, “you are a massive fucking asshole.”

I begin to walk past him and he catches my arm, reeling me back around. His eyes flicker to the kitchen, the coast still clear.

“I’m just teasing,” he coaxes me back, “I could never replace you. Best dog sitter in town.”

I huff, trying to knock him off and he lets me. Following behind me a few steps back as I start my way back up the stairs. He stops there at the bottom, not sure he’s allowed up. I step to where I can look down at him, “I have to get ready for dinner.”

He leaves me be. Until dinner rolls around and I’m the one who can’t rip my eyes away from him. He looks so natural, chatting with my mother about her garden in the front. She asks how he got Daisy and John goes cold. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and his eyes sink to his lap. The obvious change in John’s winds puts my empathetic mother on edge.

“Of course, you don’t have to, if it’s personal.” She starts but John is already waving her off.

He smiles still, so pained and drawn on, “my wife, actually, got me her a few years back.”

Ah, I look down at my own plate. He doesn’t add any mot details, quickly moving on, “no pets?”

“No not at the moment. This one has been wanting a cat for graduation,” my mom nudges my elbow and I look back up to John, nodding. He’s done with his soup, resting his hands in his lap thoughtfully.

“Fitting. I think,” he encourages.

My mom hurries up to collect our plates when I’m done. Just before John can start to take his own. He stills in his chair and thanks her, looking back to me.

“What are the plans tonight?” He asks when she leaves. I find it hard to make eye contact with him. He’s been too hot and cold with me, I’m not sure which field to play.

“The usual. Get really high and go to sleep.”

“You really do have a routine,” he presses his lips together tight before opening his mouth again. “I was thinking of watching part two of that movie?”

“Kill Bill? You’re willingly going to watch another movie?” I ask, peering up at him. He shrugs, taking the last sip of his water.

“If you’ll watch it with me?”

It’s blatant. I press my nails into my palm under the table where he can’t see. Is he still teasing me?

“Maybe later tonight. If you can stay up that late.”

“Open invitation, only if you want to.” He collects his napkin and stands up, I watch him from my seat. My mom steps from the kitchen, wiping her hands off onto her casual dress. “I should be heading home now, have to catch up on some work. Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Dixie.”

She approaches him for a motherly hug and John almost seems apprehensive. He gives in, of course. He wouldn’t be rude, but he does make it quick. His thanks is sincere enough.

“Why don’t you walk our guest to the door?” My mom proposes, grabbing the rest of the dishes. I look between them, cautiously pushing myself up and walking to John who falls in my stride.

We move silently, I open the door for him and he steps out with enough space where I have to step out to say our goodbyes, less I break social etiquette. I step out the front door, closing it behind me. Again, I’m struck with his height, having to peer up to him.

“Did you have fun?” I ask politely, but he’s staring at my lips. It’s inevitable, I shift on my feet and John leans down just slightly. Just enough for me to understand. We both freeze, only for a split second, to mutually agree, and then we’re both filling the gap. His hand reaches up to my jaw, brushing the exposed skin where I’m arching my neck up to him. He kisses me neater than that night, but not less ravenous. His sobriety probably comes into play.

It only lasts a few seconds and he’s standing up straight. “Are you coming over tonight or am I going to have to come upstairs?”

“John!” I exclaim in a hushed tone, pushing him away, “gross, my moms home.”

“Oh, that’s where you cross the line.” I tsk and he steps back. “Thanks for dinner, I’ll see you tonight.” He put a hand up in a curt wave and walks off. I cut into the door, realizing I’ve been holding my breathe.

I joined my mom in the kitchen to help her finish cleaning, trying to hide my hurried pace. I dry the dishes and put them away, she thanks me as I’m rushing up the stairs. I complete my door with its frame softly and pressed flush against it. Fuck. I didn’t think it would actually happen. I strip my jeans off to change underwear, making my way to my dresser. My nicer panties are buried in the corner of the drawer. I pull out a few of the lace ones, holding them up and picturing myself stretched out in the pink lace. I like to collect them, but I’ve never actually worn any for somebody.

I am so far past being embarrassed, I hardly think as I pull my black thong up. It barely hides anything, and delicate lace frills out at the hips sweetly. I pull on a tank and sleep shorts, there’s no point in getting so dressed up if he’s going to strip me down.

I take my tshirt off and put on a hoodie with nothing beneath, looking in my mirror I looked like every other night. Good. I didn’t want to try too hard, I’ve already been desperate enough.

I waited until my mom dismissed herself into her room, the sound of her tv playing into the hall. I grab my phone and a joint, holding them securely in one hand as I sneak out the way I have every other night.

I come up to John’s front door rather awkwardly, shuffling after I knock. The thought of ringing the doorbell make me cringe.

John opens the door in his slacks, no belt, the nice button up he was just wearing undone partially to reveal his under shirt. He looked disheveled, like he was just getting undressed. He smiled when he saw me, letting me and closing the door. The way his eyes swept over me was concealed anymore, he stepped back closing me in to the door. I hold the joint up between us quickly, slowing down his steps. My heart was racing, “I uh, rolled, this.” John steps closer to me, I can smell his cologne. It’s masculine and salty, it makes my brain short circuit, blinking as his heavy eyes lift to meet mine again.

He bore an amused smirk, “do you want to smoke it first?” He asked, figuring what I’m hinting at. I hadn’t even thought of it, I just rolled it. Now that I’m standing here, panicking, it sounds like a great idea. He plucks it from my trembling finger, sliding out of the way and moving to guide me towards to the stairs.

I look to the patio, puzzled. “You don’t want to go outside?” I ask, following where he directs.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures me. The way up the stairs is nerve wracking, feeling John’s looming presence behind me. I pause before his room and let him allow me in, he points to the bed and I kick off my shoes by the bed.

“Fuck, I forgot my lighter,” I realize as sit on the edge of the neatly made bed. John comes back over, reaching into his side drawer. He procures a white lighter and I chuckle this time, bringing my knees up.

He lowers himself beside me, pushing himself further up the bed. I turn my body to face him as he puts the joint between his lips, lighting it up. He takes a short puff and hands it to me. I take it, not any less shakily, and pull it up to my mouth. He reaches his hand out, running it along the outside of my thigh, he pulls me closer and I oblige. I take a longer puff and blow and smoke up away from us, smiling shyly and handing it back to him.

“You smoke cigarettes in here too?” I ask him, his hands don’t stop. He has his legs half off the bed, fingers padding and prodding at me until my legs over his and I’m right beside him. His slides the same hand up my side, under my hoodie.

“Jesus, no,” he answers, handing it back to me, “why’d you wear this, it’s so hot outside.”

“It’s nighttime,” I argue in my defense, leaning into his touch.

His hand brushes the navy material up, “take it off.”

“Noo, not now,” I go to push his hand away, “not yet.” He doesn’t push too much, settling his hand back on my thighs. I pass it back to him and reach out to his shirt button, “why don’t you take this off?” I ask but I’m already doing it. I can feel his chest beneath the shirt, rising and falling, he’s watching from the bottom of his eyes. He returns it and slides his shirt off his shoulder.

When it’s almost out I hand it to him, “no ashtray,” I point out. He shrugs, extending his long arm and dropping it into a water bottle on his bedside. There’s a beat where I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but John has a plan. He wraps his arms up around me, drawing me in close and pressing his lips up against my jaw. His beard his scruffy and almost tickles as he moves down, leaving more down a line of my neck. I shiver and grip his bicep, willingly pressing my side up against him. He groans deep in his throat, and I press closer. His fingers delve back under my hoodie, groping my sides and tickling my ribs. My high makes my whole body sensitive, on edge about John’s next move. He’s taking me in slow, nipping at my neck and sliding his nose back up my jaw to kiss me. We both taste like weed, I run my hands up around his neck, sliding into his dark black hair.

He kisses me for a nice amount of time, breaking it by pushing me back. He stands up over the bed, looking down at me until I’m getting nervous all over again. I press my legs together, shifting my knees to the other side and John reaches for me again.

“Sorry, I’ve just pictured you here before,” he almost mumbles it, leaning to press more kisses on upper thighs. No one’s ever kissed me all over, I try not to wiggle beneath him as I watch.

“Yeah?” I hum under him, brushing his hair over in a side part. He hooks his fingers over the waistline of my silky sleep shorts. I lift my hips lazily, pushing myself up onto my elbows to watch him better.

“Don’t play dumb,” he speaks clearer, pulling them down. His breath catches for a second and he looks back up to me in surprise, backing up to near rip them from my legs. He runs a finger over the straps of my thong, taking in sight.

I tilt my head to the side, committing to the part. He grips my hips, pressing his to meet mine. The thin line of fabric does nothing to protect my pussy from his slacks. I can feel his cock through them, splitting right between my folds. I shift to press against him harder, the pressure right up against my clit.

John mutters a curse and dips back to undo his pants and push them down, meeting my body in the familiar position.

He’s being so careful, sliding his hand between us. He coats his fingers with me before sliding two in without warning. I yelp at the intrusion, jutting my hips forward against his hand.

It feels as good as I imagined. A million time better than my fingers ever have. His fingers are long and thick, he reached up in me and pets where I’m most sensitive. “Can’t wait to fucking destroy you.” It catches me so off guard, the most I can do is moan, continuing to grind down against him. “I know you want it... sleeping in my bed.” I don’t know how I managed to blush when I’m literally riding his fingers, turning my head to the side.

“So obviously too… didn’t even fix the pillows.” More involuntary noises are slipping from my mouth, in rythme with the repetitive movements up inside me. I’m shaking my head like he’s lying. “Don’t even get me started on the camera…” he breathes out, he’s pulling himself out of his briefs. “Waited til I was watching?”

“Hated you ignoring me.” I say it with my eyes closed.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he instructs, standing up straight, pulling his fingers out and wrapping them around himself. He strokes himself quick and messy, only for a little and he’s lining himself up.

He’s dipping his head down, kissing my back, “wasn’t ignoring you,” he assures. He presses the head in and I tense, gripping the sheets under me. John waits for me to relax.

“Didn’t know you were so needy,” he continues to tease, pushing in deeper. I struggle to keep my hips up, lowering my upper body and keeping my ass up. John slides his hand down my back as I do, “so inpatient, had to get yourself off on my fucking couch,” his voice is breathless as he digs his hilt it me. I spasm when hits me deepest, pressing my cheek into the bed.

“Wanted you so bad, Mr. Wick,” I tell him in a whine and he snaps into me. It feels so good, he continues the motion his hand sliding over my ass before landing a sharp slap there. I hiss, my moans becoming loud and consistent each time our hips met.

He was quiet now that he was busy. His eyes fixed on our bodies meeting, I was slowly failing at keeping my hips up. John paused to yank them back into position, holding me in place as he sped up.

I’m not that experienced. Certainly not as much as John, who seemed to have been in a long term relationship. I like having sex, I like the feeling, the closeness, I like men. My problem have been the men. Most of my experiences have been rushed, awkward, or one sided.

John is sexy, lean, tall, his cock is beautiful but I didn’t get much time to examine. He’s precise, in tune with me. Fucking me in patterns. He goes hard and rough until I can’t take it anymore, then he slows, holding most of my weight up and letting me breathe. It’s when he’s slowing when I get all shaky and weak, so stimulated. It’s not awkward at all, I can’t focus on anything but the low noises John is making above me, completely tuning myself out.

When I’m giving out completely, John turns it up a notch. He wraps an arm up under my hips, leaning over me to press deeper. His strokes went from rough to solid, pulling completely out of me and slamming back in. The sounds I made ripped straight from my vocal cords, near screaming as John put his other hand over my mouth. I shove myself into the bed, trying to get away before our bodies meet again. My legs have buckled, John holding me up easy. My body was on fire, twitching and writhing, getting closer and closer to coming each time the head of his cock rakes against my gspot and slams into my cervix.

Not without struggle, he manages to readjust my hips and angle himself better. A few more long, complete strokes and I’m starting to fall apart. My arms reach out over the bed spread with nothing to hold onto, I can only manage to say his name in a warning. My voice is so tight and he barely responds.

I’m glad he has such a hold on me, focusing on nothing except for the orgasm tearing through me. It explodes and turns into tingles throughout my body. John’s cock feels so good I realize through the haze I’m begging him for more. He obliges, fucking me harder until I just can’t and I’m shoving him away. John pulls out when I do, but doesn’t just drop me. He lowers me back onto the bed and lets me lay down, wrapping his hand back around his cock and stroking himself casually as I huff.

I feel like the winds been knocked out of me, I take the allotted time to breathe, finally weakly lifting my head to look over John. He reaches out, tucking my hair back and stroking my cheek with the back of his hand, “feel good?” He asks with a chuckle.

Funny how I can do zero work and still feel absolutely spent. I push myself up on my arm, crawling back up to him and pawing his hand away. John sits back and settles, letting me take whatever control I want.

I bring my lips up to his wet cock, running my tongue along the underside before wrapping my lips around it. It look up at John, who takes a hand and places it on the back of my head lightly. I try to watch him, swirling my tongue around the head and giving it a little extra suction before sliding down the base.

John has his mouth open, rutting his hips up into my mouth I gag on him. I push my hand to steady his hips but the moan that leaves his lips watching my choke makes it worth it. So much spit has collected in my mouth just from that, it makes a sound when I slide down again. John wants to hold my head down, I can tell with the way his fingers keep pressing against the back of me head but he doesn’t pressure me.

I go all the way down on him again, peering up to him through my eyelashes. I swallow around him and nearly gag again and John is entranced. He blinks back and desire swirls in my stomach again. I sit back up and a line of spit connects my mouth to him. I giggle, wiping it clean and sliding up. John has leaned back into the pillows against his headboard, legs extended out and pushed apart slightly. I climb up, straddling his hips and positioning myself above him. John gets the memo quickly, hands going up to help guide me. He holds his cock up for me, sinking down easily I moan. I brace myself on his shoulders, getting into position and bringing myself down against him. John lifted his slightly, just pushing in that extra inch deeper and tilting his head back against the wall. I forgot how hard this was. Each time I go down I take a moment to drag my hips, grinding him deeper into me with a low moan. I’m not as vocal in this position, I have to focus on my movements, john on the other hands can’t stop making quiet little sounds. His breathe slips, his breathing rugged, I can feel his cock twitch up in me and I moan. John’s hand comes between us again, finger nudging up against my clit. Each time I come down against him it ghosts right over where it feels best, I speed up for the friction, my legs opening further to get closer.

John’s finger speeds up as he gets closer, I start to loose my rythme, bouncing up on him sloppily. I bent over to touch foreheads with John, but my eyes are dragged close. I’m so close again, his fingers and his dick coaxing my orgasm to come up. I dragged my hips down in circles, yanking John closer. He’s about to cum, I can tell in the way his jaw clenched, eyes dragging all over me.

“God- John- I’m gonna,” I try to warn him this time but John’s already spilling. He lifts his hips up inside of me as deep as he can, his finger doesn’t stop stimulating me, pushing me over the edge as he releases his load inside. My grip is death on his shoulder, the ripples of pleasure spamming through me, pussy squeezing and milking his cock for all he’s worth. I lay up against him when I can relax, still not pulling out. He shifts under me and I squeeze around him again in pleasure, John lets out a surprised groan.

He holds my hips, pumping in and out of me slowly before he got soft. His cum and mine make it completely slick, he pulls out of me and wrap his arms around my back. I press against him as I breathe.

I haven’t cum that hard in awhile, and I haven’t cum twice ever.

“I need a shower,” I complain, not making a move away from John. He has closed his eyes and gone still.

“We’ll shower, soon.” He assures me, staying still. I sit up from where I was laying on his shoulder, peeling out stuck bodies part. John’s eyes flutter open, letting out a sigh, “do you want to sleep here?” He offered.

I brush my messy hair back, actually yes, “I don’t think I can.”

“Snuck out? Aren’t you an adult?”

“Obviously. I like to keep the whore part on the down low.”

“Didn’t seem that way to me,” he pushed himself up, “let’s shower so you’ll stop complaining.”

[white-eden]

I’m pretty sure that once in a relationship Jinwoo tries to learn even more about Haneul and her family.

Jinwoo even learned Spanish for her. I want to imagine Jinwoo wearing his apron while doing the cleaning, he even uses Fabuloso to clean the floor 😭 this man puts music like Vicente Fernandez and other Mexican/Latinos artist.

(Note: thing is I still don’t know from which country Haneul’s mom is, I rather leave it like that cuz I can’t decide.)

But Jinwoo learnjfn the language and how to cook different LATAM dishes is chef kiss.

I’m pretty sure Jinah was impressed the first time she saw her oppa wearing his aptos and sweeping the floor while listening to Celia Cruz, 😂 man with a aloof expression and singing “la Vida es un carnaval) he was so embarrassed when he got caught and she didn’t stop teasing him.

Another thing is Haneul teaching him how to make corn tortillas AND pupusas! She likes cooking, a lot! And loves Mexican cuisine but also pupusas, she even likes to try food from other countries. She’s a foodie and both Jinwoo and Jinah get to enjoy different dishes. Even when their mother is back, she cooks delicious food for her mother in law. Specially chicken soup, but not the American type, the Latino one with veggies and tortilla!

Another thing that Haneul have is that she likes to buy Mexican goodies and he ended up eating them all, stuff like paletas payaso, Cheetos, you name it. Cuz believe it or not the Mexican Coca-Cola has a better taste. Even the chips taste better!!

And there are a bunch of different sweets! She even makes minutas (shaved ice) with the syrups and leche condensada on hot days. *sighs* she pampers them a lot so when Jinwoo get to do the same back for her.. 😔 my man goes above and beyond for her bunny gf/wifey

[im-yn-suckers]

they dont match butttttt, I. DO. NOT. CARE. PERIODT.

pairing- bf choi yeonjun x mexican female reader

warnings- hugs, kisses, food, not proofread, uhhhhh idk what else lol

yes, i did it. coming from a mexican female, i think i have a say in this. where all my mexicanas at? i love yall🫶🏻

christmas with your parents was an exciting topic for yeonjun. he always wanted to meet your parents and was extremely excited to meet them on christmas.

you arrive at you parents house and yeonjun was flowing with excitement and joy. he was excited to stay the night and he wanted to see how you lived growing up. you werent nervous about him meeting your parents at all because you knew theyd get along. you were a bit worried about the food.

what if he didnt like it? would it make your parents feel guilty? no, hes going to love it.

"mija! your here! oh i missed you!" your mom greeted you at the door as soon as she saw you. you hugged your dad next.

"mija! how are you?" "im ok, papi" yea, you called him papi, and? he your father, you love him.

"mijo! its so nice to finally meet you! how are you?" "yes it is! im alright, mrs.-" "oh, dont start that nonsense, call me mama." you heart melted at the sight of your mom and your boyfriend getting along so well.

"mijo, how are you?" "im good, mr.-" "call me suegro" (it means father in law in spanish). "alright" your dad shook yeonjuns hand and smiled very fondly at him.

"so! shall we have some dinner!" "lets eat!"

the table was decorated with pozole, tamales, pico de gallo, enchiladas and mole. yeonjun was left amazed at all the dishes on the table.

you two ere standing as your mom brought out the bowls, spices, and anything you could imagine.

"sit down mijo, get whatever you'd like, i made pozole and tamales. if you dont like that theres pico de gallo, enchiladas, mole, and theres desserts."

"thank you" he served himself some pozole and you grabbed the bowl of tortilla chips to eat with the pozole. (thats how i eat it lmao, if you eat it differently, adjust it as you wish)

"uh, y/n how do i eat it?" he nervously giggled and stared at his bowl in confusion.

"you can use your spoon to drink the soup, you can roll up the tortilla to dip it in the soup and use the spoon to eat the chicken and the corn. and you can also put lime, lettuce, raddish, and chile in it."

"ok, thank you" he did as you told him to and his face lit up with delight when he took the first spoonful. "wow, this so good!'

"im glad you liked it, mijo!''

he served himself one enchilada, a small spoonful of mole, and some pico de gallo, you cant forget the tamal he put on his plate.

he ate some of everything and he loved every bite of it. you mom served him a glass of horchata and he had two cups of it!

"i'll clean up you guys go and wait in the living room, and when im done we can eat dessert!" your mom obviously could not wait until a certain dessert that ill leave to your imagination for now.

"i'll help you pick up!" yeonjun immediately refused to sit down and went to go help you mom.

in the living room, you and your dad were chatting. "so, yeonjun, really liked the food, huh, mija?" "yea, he loved it. i think he liked moms pozole best though. the chiltipin helped a lot too." "well, your mom made a lot for your could take leftovers home." "i'd love that. also, mami never made this much food for christmas when i was a little girl. we only had pozole and we bought the horchata, did she make it?' ' she did, and she was going to make birria but it takes too long." "aww, i love her birria" "come get desserts guys!!" your mom poked out of the kitchen and called you in.

when you walked in, the table had a big rosca de reyes in the middle and buñuelos and conchas, and mugs of champurrado. oh, how you missed the nostalgic smell.

"ok, who wants the first piece of it?" "be careful, if you get the baby, you need to make the tamales for everybody" "oh, uh. should i get the first piece?" "if you want" "papi, did you get the baby?" " no thankfully" "mami, give me this piece" "no baby!!!" "yeonjun, here you go!" she gave him a random slice and she bought the rosca de reyes so, she couldnt cheat. "did you get it baby?" "uh, yea." your family burst into laughter at the fact that yeonjun, who had tasted tamales for the first time today, was stuck making them!" "ay, mijo! i'll give you guys the recipe dont worry."

all the dessert was delicious and so was the champurrado. you and yeonjun cleaned up as your parents set up the living room for gifts and maybe some mistletoe. but shhhh. they may be mexican but, they still follow the trends duh.

"so, we gotta make tamales for the boys huh"

"i guess, but i dont know how to make them. and your lucky, mami never made this much food on christmas."

"im her favorite i guess" "when i was a kid, i always dreamed of getting the baby. when i turned fifteen, me and my sister got it and we were stuck with making tamales. never wanted the baby ever again."

yeonjun laughed as you walked into the living room with your mom and dad waiting. a big present marked yeonjun and y/n was waiting in your seat.

"open this one first!" you opened it and a big ol pot was wrapped up. your mom and dad were laughing and you and yeonjun were smiling. you mostly wanted to cry, you cant make tamales like girl.

everyone opened up their gifts and they gave you guys some to give to the boys back home. "alright, its really late lets go to sleep." you and yeonjun got ready for bed and went into your parents guest room. it was filled with pictures of your childhood an teen years and stuff you wouldnt really display yourself.

"good night mijo! buenas noches mija! te amo! (i love you)" your mom told you both as you were walking into your room. "buenas noches mami. te amo!" "good night mama!" you wouldve definitely melted into putty right there and then if you could.

you plopped into the bed and waited for yeonjun to finish changing. "your moms so sweet. y/n!" "i know, she was texting me nonstop in the morning asking what time we were heading over." "aww," he laid down and kissed you softly. "goodnight baby" "goodnight my love"

in the morning you were woken up with a torta that smelled like heaven. you needed to leave soon so you ate then went to your room to clean up your things. "we only ate beans and tortilas for breakfast when i was a kid. you must really be the favorite." "she loves me''

"alright, mami. the cars loaded, we're gunna get going."

"oh, wait!" she brought out three(BIG) full bags of containers of food.

"wow, this is alot. " "good, now no one will have to cook for at least a day." "with five men in the house, itll be gone in an hour"

"bye mijo, it was nice having you over and meeting you." "thank you suegro. it was nice meeting you too" yep, melted again.

"mija, bye, i love you." "bye papi, i love you too"

"mija, bye, i'll miss you. thank you for coming over. i love you" "i'll miss you too, thanks for having us. i love you too mami"

"ay mijo. i dont want you to leave." "i dont want to leave either"

"bye mijo, thank you so much for coming. i'll miss you." ''bye, mama. thank you for having us. i'll miss you too."

you two walked out the front door and got into the car.

"love you guys! say hi to the boys for me!" "we will mami! love you too!"

"bye mama! love you!!!"

and with that, you were driving back to your house. yeonjun intertwined your hands and kissed it. man he was hot driving with one hand.

the end

um so why am i posting a christmas fic in august, bc i thought abt it while eating mole sooooooooo. yall, before you come at me for having the rosca de reyes in december, i know its eaten in january but, yall arent gunna visit them until then soooo. uh LATINAS FOR YEONJUN

[therecipelibrary]

Since it is one of those days where I am unable to cook. I thought I would share one of my favorite recipes, not vintage exactly, but a family recipe, one of my moms. Unless is the 90s vintage now?

Anyway this one freezes well and makes idk 4 or 5 servings.

I like to prep a few things ahead on the days I feel well to have on days like today.

Enchilada Soup

1 can cream of chicken

2 cans of chicken broth, I used one bigger container of low sodium

1 can cream corn

1 big can of green enchilada sauce

1 can green chiles

1 can of diced chicken, or a small amount of rotisserie etc.

Half an onion sliced or diced, idc

Bring to a boil then add:

4 or 5 flour tortillas cut with scissors into tiny strips and boil 5 minutes.

Add lots of cheddar cheese

Sour cream if you like, but I didn't use any last time.

It's like a spicier chicken noodle, comfort food, not healthy.

[jenthebug]

The Mom Cold continues.

So far today, I’ve done dishes twice, brought the bins up from the curb, taken out trash twice, taken a bath, gone to the pet store, and picked up groceries (Jay put them away, like always). I still need to clean the litterbox and make chicken tortilla soup.

This is mostly by design. The people I love are sick! I don’t want them to have to do work!

But then it falls back on me, and I am also sick.

Anyway, I should talk to my therapist about this. The thought of Husband (especially!) or Jay doing work while I’m perfectly capable, and not working for a paycheck, doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe it’s because I saw Mom doing it all as a kid. Maybe it’s a holdover from my first marriage. I don’t know.

It’ll be easier when I’m recovering from surgery because I’ll be literally unable to do anything.

For now, I need to rest.

[praetoravila]

lolive 21-40 pleaseeee <333

pls ignore that u asked this on aug 26 and i'm just getting to it now. i know. i am ashamed. ANYWHO

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

yes! they get an apartment together when logan’s halfway done his residency, and they enjoy making it their own. olive spends more time there bc she often does counseling appointments from her home office, but its very much both theirs. 

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

definitely. the number one way to know that olive likes you, is she teases you. she likes to playfully make fun of her friends and logan is no exception. his name in her phone for years, is boybander. 

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship? 

they are both incredibly headstrong. both smart as hell, logan being traditionally booksmart and olive being very emotionally smart. both of them grew up in single parent families so they have a strong belief in family and taking care of family. olive is chaos while logan is calm. 

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often? 

like i’ve said before, they are both incredibly headstrong/stubborn. they butt heads quite a bit, but ultimately whoever is right usually wins the argument. they both don’t like fighting, logan grew up seeing james’ parents fight all the time and it made him hate confrontation, and olive grew up with her parents and wren fighting over custody of her, so she hates it when people start to use things against her. 

25. Do they share a room/house? If so, what does it look like and how does it compliment their personalities?

yes! when they are around 26, logan gets an apartment not too far from the USC campus and olive moves in with him about three months later. he’s halfway through his residency and she’s in grad school to become a youth counselor. their apartment looks like this in my mind. it’s their home for a solid four years before they end up moving to a two story house closer to where kendall is living. 

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

olive sacrifices getting to see logan bc of how much he’s working while they are in college/university. logan sacrifices seeing his mom for a while bc of olive’s want to stay in la. they compromise and go back to minnesota for christmas and his mom’s birthday. 

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally? 

olive, in true woman of colour fashion, shows her love nonverbally in one way. through food. either she’s cutting fruit for logan to apologize to him or she’s begging wren for her Chicken Tortilla Soup recipe. logan leaves little notes around the house with encouragement. he’s also known to spoil olive, so it’s not unusual for her to wake up and find that he bought her some new clothes or that he got that bookshelf that she’s been eyeing for a few months but didn’t have the money for. 

28. Who’s the better chef? Do they  cook for the other? 

they’re both pretty good chefs. olive grew up with wren teaching her traditional mexican food, so she’s got a pretty good handle on that - no taco bell in the lolive household i fear. and logan in true midwestern boy fashion, is good at grilling. their house is definitely the house for barbecues. 

29. Describe their nighttime routine. 

okay!! so if it’s a day where logan gets home at a reasonable time, they usually eat dinner together around 7:30/8:00. after dinner, olive usually goes and sits in the living room while logan does the dishes. she cut her hand on a knife once when she was twelve and now is too paranoid to do the dishes herself. after the dishes are done, they usually sit together on the couch. sometimes they cuddle, sometimes it’s just them vibing in each other’s presence. usually around 8:30 olive goes to shower and brush her teeth and logan usually follows after her. they shower together in the evenings more often than not - and no it’s not for those reasons get your head out of the gutter. they just like being around each other, and olive maintains that one of the most romantic things your partner can do for you is to wash your hair. 

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

olive’s love language is quality time! she likes spending time with logan, especially on weekends when they both aren’t working and can rest with each other. logan’s a words of affirmation and acts of service guy. he likes being told that he’s loved and cared for, and he also appreciates the nonverbal ways of showing that. 

31. Do they often go out on dates? What are these like? 

they try to! they both have fairly busy schedules as adults. their usual date is a movie and then a new restaurant. as teenagers, they hangout in 2I or 2J and watch movies and tv together or go to the local arcade. 

32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them?

they both do. olive��s family has some history of addiction, so she’s a better regulator. the second she starts to feel too woozy or feel too impulsive she’s cutting herself off. logan’s a lightweight tho. get him a mai tai and he’s down for the count. olive will drag him home and let him sober up before teasing him relentlessly in the morning about it. in the few occasions where olive’s gotten drunk enough to make herself sick, logan’s holding her hair back and making her breakfast in the morning. 

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

snark. snark all the time. they both like teasing each other. olive bugs logan about how smart he is, and he teases her about how short she is. there’s also a lot of touching. olive (like i said already lol) isn’t really a pda girl but when she’s interested in someone she’s always on them. holding hands, sitting beside each other, pressing shoulders and knees against each other. she likes being in logan’s personal space. basically, they’re this audio. 

34. Do they have any inside jokes? 

hot dogs or cold dogs. banilla shakes. wrenabeth. hortense the horse. the list goes on lol. 

35. Is their relationship a secret? If so, why? 

initially yeah. olive and camille are finally on somewhat good terms, and she doesn’t want to cause drama with the other girl knowing that shes dating her ex. on logan’s side, it’s bc rushers can be… intense and he doesn’t want fans digging up olive’s past and throwing it in her face. 

36. How do they feel about having kids? Are they in agreement?

they both want kids some day. olive is a bit more hesitant bc she’s afraid of fucking her kids up. the way her parents abandoned her really did a number on her for many years (as expected). logan’s neutral on it at first, but after being uncle to carlos’ kids, he’s like oh this is something i’d really want. i think they’d be more likely to adopt over having kids biologically. 

37. Who’s more emotionally sensitive/cries more often?

olive. she has a mood disorder and also her adhd means her rejection sensitivity dysphoria can get pretty strong. 

38. Who’s got a quicker temper? 

also olive. ied + adhd babeyyyy. she’s gotten better about handling it since she was a teenager tho. 

39. When and how did they admit that they loved each other? If they haven’t yet, why?

okay!!! so there’s technically two times. once where olive admits, and once where logan admits. olive admits it during big time reality, but logan thinks that she’s just putting on a show for the cameras and doesn’t take her seriously. logan admits it in big time decision while he’s doing love science on kendall. he realizes that he’s not with camille for the right reasons. 

40. Do they have any regrets in their relationship?

not really! logan regrets not trying with olive first in terms of his relationships. he wishes he could have saved olive some of the heartbreak she experienced of watching him and camille being together. olive regrets not being more upfront about her feelings. 

[taleweaver-ramblings]

Chicken enchilada soup sounds so good!

It is, indeed, SO GOOD. It's everything I love about chicken enchiladas, but in soup form. Here's the recipe, in case you want it:

Text version (adjusted according to my mom's notes):

Ingredients:

1 15 oz can black beans, rinsed and drained

1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, drained

1 15 oz can corn, drained, or an equivalent amount of frozen corn

1/2 cup chopped onion

1 packet enchilada sauce mix

1 can tomato sauce

1 can milk

4 4 oz. chicken breasts

1 tsp each cumin, chili powder, garlic powder

2 cups shredded cheese (cheddar, colby, jack, anything non-Italian that'll melt nicely and not be stringy)

8 oz. cream cheese

Whatever you want to top it with. (I like tortilla chips and sometimes sour cream.)

Directions

In a crockpot, combine beans, tomatoes, corn, enchilada sauce, tomato sauce, and milk. Stir.

Add chicken breasts to liquid; make sure they're submerged.

Cover and cook on low heat 6–8 hours or on high for 3–4 hours.

Before serving, remove the chicken breasts, shred them, and return them to the soup.

Stir in cheeses.

Serve and enjoy!

You could probably adjust the amount of cheese to make it more or less cheesy, or you could leave out the cream cheese, but I like it with all the cheese.

[palmtreepalmtree]

I have zero patience for anything right now.

I decided to order tortilla soup from my local Mexican place because they make it with guajillo chilis and I thought it might help clear my sinuses.

I offered to order something for mom too, and she was just so weird about it, as if she had never been asked to order something before. She asked for two tacos, and then acted all overwhelmed when I was asking her what kind of tacos. There were literally only two choices to make - protein and tortilla type. And she said to me, "I've never had so many options!" I mean, seriously? You've never been asked whether you want chicken or carne asada tacos? You've never chosen between flour or corn tortillas? Like, come on, mom. This is not hard.

[walkyjake]

2, 18?

2. favorite album of the year

INTERCEPTED MESSAGE by THEE OH SEES……… it got leaked like 3 months early and i listened to it sososososo much it’s one of my fav albums ever probably it’s so Wow. wow. new wave awesomeness.

18. memorable meal of the year

what a neat question… it was multiple times this year but my mom made chicken tortilla soup a lot it’s really really good….. fuckyes

[aang-the-monk]

Primrose and Locust? 💗💗💗💗

Hi Bee👋🏽💖💖💖

PRIMROSE: Favorite kind of soup?

I was about to say I have never thought about my favorite soup in my life, but that is a lie because I immediately thought of a soup. My mom makes this spicy Mexican chipotle chicken lime soup. It's not tortilla soup, though we do put them in there sometimes. Anyways, I always ask her to make it when fall comes around. I just love a spicy soup.

LOCUST: What was your favorite book as a child?

I don't feel like there was one book I read more than others. But one series I was a devoted fan of was Geronimo Stilton. He's a mouse who works for a newspaper and ends up going on crazy adventures for his stories, but he's definitely got anxiety™ so that made it even more fun.

[anadorablekiwi]

I know you're dealing with alot right now--may I offer you a distraction?

For my dinner I have Harira and naan. Harira is a north African soup that has a chicken broth and crushed tomato broth with lots of spices like curry, cayenne, paprika, coriander seeds, mustard seeds and minced ginger and garlic. The stars of the show are millet (or rice), lentils, chickpeas, and lots of cilantro and parsely. It is super flavorful and tasty. The naan I also made myself from a trusty recipe I got from a youtube video. Ideally you'd also make garlic-cilantro-melted-butter to brush onto the fresh-off-the-flying-pan naan. Yum yum!

What sorts of things do you like to cook?

Oh my GOODNESS that sounds to die for (and i think you meant frying pan? XD <3)

Hm, more often i bake (havent done much of that either lately) but I like making waffles (does that count?)

and homemade chili: 2-3 cans of beans, black or kidney or navy or combo. Tomato sauce, spices (my mom helps with this but usually chili powder, sometimes taco seasoning instead, various stuffs. I have a recipe somewhere lol), and a can of petite diced tomatoes to add after the chili is cooked. Best served alongside cornbread or cornbread muffins

Hm, what else. Oh! One of my favorite recipes is ‘skillet enchiladas’ (not real enchiladas lol). Basically you put tons of cheese in rolled up tortillas, place in a layer in the cast iron skillet, add bbq sauce and more cheese (and probably tomato sauce etc) and ground meat i think? Maybe? And cook! And enjoy :)

[illbestarryeyedforyou]

As a European, I would love to know the (authentic?) recipes to your favourite soups!!!!!

!!!!!!

bear with me:

Caldo de res

Prep time: 1hr 25min

Ingredients: chuck pot roast beef

Celery

Carrots

Cabbage

Squash (optional)

Golden potatoes (I forgot to take pictures of but they're a great addition)

corn

White enriched long grain rice

—

1. So you cut the beef into smaller but grabble pieces (as pictured above) and cook them in a pot on either a 6/7 above medium but below high for about 30 minutes. It has to start cooking until it reaches the point where there's foam that I implore to you that you must remove as I did.

2. After removing the meat foam, and when you feel comfortable enough about the beef being tender or soft enough to your liking, add the veggies into the pot!! Allow them to cook on 6-7 for about 1hr but check on them throughout the span to make sure it doesn't overflow and to mix ingredients together

Oh almost forgot: you can add spices as you please: I add cumin, salt, onion powder and black pepper.

While the caldo de res is cooking, cook white rice on a separate pan.

I put in consomate that's why it came out reddish/orange in color. It's just flavorful for me

ANDDD viola!! That's how it basically turns out!

You are free to enjoy with tostadas, corn tortillas, or BREAD!!

It's pretty simple to make, but requires patience.

Worth it though

Caldo de pollo con calabaza

I couldn't write down a recipe because I've only cooked it once and it was with the help of my mom!! She's currently at work so I can't ask her nor do I want to delay this response as well.

The recipe calls for boneless chicken thighs, but honestly, you can throw in a whole chicken (cut into pieces!!) in there.

I like the juice to get thicker so I usually add a little bit of flour as well. It's all about finding YOUR recipe, ya know.

That being said I found a link for you that would definitely help in guiding you to cooking it!!

— okay, thank you for asking and your patience, C!!

[adoinvoke]

Second Week of November Eating <3

November 8-14. I went to a party on Friday and ate SO MUCH, and that energy carried into Saturday where I ate a lot at Shabbat lunch. I'm 132 right now and my goal was to be 130 by Thanksgiving and I should make it if I don't binge between now and then!

Wed: 834 calories pumpkin bar - 130 ravioli and chicken breast salad - 666 milky way mini - 38

Thurs: 973 calories chocolate - 191 miso soup and carrots - 196 wine - 586 (wine moms drink their calories fr)

Fri: 1,510 :( calories grapes, raspberries, strawberries, tortilla chips, potato chips, chocolate covered pretzels, hummus, and guac - all around 885 quesadilla - 626

Sat: 1,392 :( calories cauliflower, garbanzo bean salad, baked ziti, potatos, rugelach, and gummy candies - all around 1,139 miracle noodle pho - 68 chocolate, cheese stick, and miso soup - 185

Sun: 881 calories apple and coffee - 194 salad and ravioli - 194 spicy salmon with seaweed, ravioli - 312 (I only ate half the spicy salmon bc mayo lite is so gross) yogurt, cucumber with everything bagel seasoning - 181

Mon: 797 calories Banana date coffee and potato bureka - 655 miso soup and apple sauce - 85 peanut butter filled pretzels - 57

Tues: 663 calories Pumpkin bar and pb pretzels - 177 salad and ravioli - 293 Protein powder - 56 cucumber with everything bagel seasoning and miso soup - 127