#i feel like i’m constantly making posts like these it’s exhausting

[gravehags]

not seeing enough ghoulette content on the dash these days btw it’s like presenting to an empty auditorium. i love the ghouls as much as the next person but maybe devote some of that energy to their female counterparts instead of just ignoring their existence, yeah? i do my part but the wlw of this fandom are fucking starving at this point. feed us.

[ryderdire]

One of These days I will claw my way out of my depression hole, but let me rest on the way up please.

[floral-hex]

So this is my thing now, I’m afraid to go to sleep. This is kinda bullshit, brain.

[voulezloux]

.

[chocum]

COMING DOWN !

— bunched up, sweet little whimpers, he always gets so sensitive under your touch feat. choso kamo

WARNINGS. femreader (she/her) x goodguy!cho :3 mentions of violence/death, sub cho, dom reader, overstimulation, begging, blowjob, premature ejaculation ;( crying + 1.2k wc note. i’m so insane abt choso it’s actually scary, he’s all i think about. tysm for all the support on my first post. love u all! feedback + reblogs are appreciated! also art by @/swag_yay on x. ty again & enjoyyy ᡣ𐭩

choso hated missions with a passion that pierced his very soul.

his cursed energy manipulation and combat skills are unrivaled, making him crucial to a mission’s success, but the relentless nature of them drained him beyond words— both mentally and physically.

they feel so repetitive: eliminate curses, protect civilians, prevent damage. eliminate curses, eliminate curses, eliminate.

he has always been driven by a deep desire to protect everyone he could, especially those who were unable to do so themselves, but the constant cycle of violence and death confused him—wrestling with self-doubt, doing mental gymnastics, trying to justify his actions. the cognitive strain became a heavy burden that compounded during missions, further exhausting him like heavy buckets of water dousing an already flickering flame.

and after meeting you — his sweet, sweet girl — his hatred for missions only grew.

the ache of missing you constantly gnawed at him. your homey scent. your taste still fresh on his tongue, preventing him from concentrating because, in his mind, he’s still tangled in your sheets, stealing sweet kisses that linger on his lips long after they’ve left yours.

when out scouting, he would catch glimpses of couples hand in hand in the streets sporting deep smiles, making his stomach twist— his brows pinching together, deepening the ridge between them.

his sole solace was the thought of returning home to his pretty girl once everything was over— it pushes him to keep going, to keep fighting, even avoiding shoko because he preferred your clumsy little hands to patch him up.

finally done with his latest three-week mission — a seeming eternity away from you — he was being driven to your place, to you, home.

head lolling back against the car seat, he spreads his legs wider, rolling his hips to adjust himself, before sinking, letting the leather seat swallow him whole. he tilts his head to the side, deep purple irises flickering, to watch the familiar scenery— large leafy trees crowding the darkening highway under evening skies.

after he waved his goodbyes, giving thanks to his driver, he stumbled up to the door, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the keys underneath the dim light of the porch. on the other side, the distinct sound of the lock clicking open causes you to bolt up, rushing to greet him.

he pushes it open and there you are. looking up at him with that big smile he adores so much lighting your face— pretty eyes sparkling with relief. you squeal and fling your arms around him without hesitation and he does the same, burying his face into the side of your neck, feeling your hair brush against him, inhaling deeply.

you always smelled so good— a blend of your natural scent and hints of vanilla from your body wash. he’s been craving that scent for so long, growing dizzy now that it finally embraces him, his body falling limp, so weak in your smaller arms.

you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, fingers gently tracing the smooth lines on his face— lines that seemed deeper since you’d last seen him.

“i missed you so much” you hummed faintly as he cupped your face, nuzzling your warm cheeks against his rough hands.

“i missed you so much more”

he leaned down to find your lips. they felt so much softer than he remembered. kissing you deeply, his calloused hand cradling the back of your neck, drawing you closer into the warmth of his embrace.

and when you moan against him— oh, it sounds so sweet, the blood rushing to his cock so quickly. next thing he knows, he’s rutting against your thigh, pressing against you so, so desperately, almost mounting you.

“what’s wrong cho?” a soft whine escapes him at the sudden loss of contact, “tell me, baby, use your words”

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, a pretty blush crawling up his neck, “just missed you so much— got excited”

“i know, my pretty boy, but ‘m here now, okay? let me take care of you. i know you missed it.” you take his hand, drawing him to your room as he follows obediently, shutting the door behind him, “did you touch yourself without me?”

he shakes his head, his fluffy hair cascading down to rest on his shoulders. “you .. you told me not no”

“good boy”

you push against his shoulders, gently guiding him to sit on the bed, his breath hitching so sweetly watching you lift yourself to straddle his waist. connecting your lips once more, hips grinding against him so slowly— rocking back and forth. his mouth now tinted pink and tenderly swollen from your ardent kisses, you move down to his neck planting a trail of light ones along the sensitive skin, each touch eliciting subtle little quivers and soft exhales. his fists bunch up the sheets, he—

“sorrysorrysorry” he babbles breathlessly— endlessly, his pants turning damp, material darkening as his cock twitches and pulses so cutely, cum drooling out his sensitive slit, “just feel so good against me. been so long. couldn’t even touch myself when you sent those pictures. it’s so sensitive”

“shhhh ‘s okay, cho.” a finger pressed against his pout— pushing its way in for him to suckle on warmly before you slide down to your knees. trailing your hands down his thighs, tugging on the hem of his pants, “i’ll clean you up”

he’s still so hard— his tip blushing, crying white cream, and when you take him in your hands, his hips jerk up for you— body still coming down from his high and you’re already taking him in your mouth, cruelly, licking fat stripes up his twitchy length.

“fuck ‘s too much baby, i just- wai, wait, please.” he’s pawing at you, pushing against your head, but he sounds too cute, crying and whimpering around you for you to stop— looks too cute with the prettiest pink blush shrouding his body from the tips of his heated ears to his curled toes.

you gargle and gag around his cock— exaggerating the sounds because you know it drives him insane. he loves when you get so nasty and messy for him, foamy spit bubbling around where his cock plugs your mouth up. your hands move to cup his warm balls, caressing and squeezing gently, coaxing him to cum for you again.

“ah f- baby, i’m so fucking— please. wanna cum for— you. gonna be so good, gonna—”

he cums salty, thick stripes straight down your warm throat with a whine so pretty you wish it was recorded so you could play it over and over and over.

and he’s crying— it’s too much, feels too good — sweetly hiccuping, sniffing as he hides his face behind his hands. such a pretty boy. he’s growing limp in your mouth and you pull off with a whine before kissing up his shaky legs.

“did so good for me, cho, missed having you like this” lightly moving his hands to pet at his damp cheeks, watching keenly how he leans into your touch, wiping pretty doll-like tears with your thumbs.

knowing that he has you to take such good care of him once he’s home will forever ease his mind while he’s away, a comforting thought that lingers like a soft embrace, even in your absence.

[emmyrosee]

helloooe i don’t know if u write for gojo (i’m new in your blog and haven’t seen gojo posts lately or maybe i haven’t scrolled far) and saw that your looking for angsty requests, can i request angst as in the different levels of gojo and reader, that gojo is so powerful and that the world constantly needs him so he can’t give reader enough attention, in a way actually hit them both in their relationship?

if not, it’s okay, i hope you’re doing fine!!

GOJO ANGST MY BELOVED-

---

"If you leave, you will come home to an empty house."

The warning falls confidently from your lips, as if premeditated and ready to be released into the air at any given trigger. Satoru stops getting his shoes on and turns to face you. Your eyes hold nothing but exhaustion, eyes under your bags dark and the lifelessness in your face sends a shiver through him. Had you looked so worn out all day?

"What... did you just say?" He whispers, brows pinching in the center in betrayal.

"You heard me. If you leave me right now, without a second thought of my regard, you will come back to nothing from me but my scent and this memory of us."

Thirty seconds ago, he smearing frosting on your nose and when you pushed him away, he’d peppered kisses over your face and fingers dug in your sides. Thirty seconds ago, you'd been interrupted in your baking by the man who would move mountains and swim oceans for you, only for his phone to ring just seconds later, calling him away like it always does.

Thirty seconds ago, he was kissing the laughter from your lips. Now, you’re threatening him.

You're cruel for this predicament, this choice and this bomb to be dropped on him mere seconds from him leaving for who even knows how long. But it doesn’t matter to him. You knew what you were getting into, and it’s not his fault he’s needed more often than not.

You should love him no matter what. As he does you.

He swallows thickly, "don't do this. Not right now."

You shrug, "this is your choice. Not mine. You know my terms.”

Bile rises up his throat and his hands tremble before fisting themselves into a little ball, "this is your choice, you doing this right now when I need to leave-"

“You always need to leave. I’m just sick of it.”

Now, Satoru just feels himself getting angry, "is this ultimatum really necessary right now? You couldn't have waited three damn days-"

"I think you're optimistic in guessing you'll only be gone for three days," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest. He sees the hurt in your features, but he merely shrugs it off as he continues to put on his shoes. “I’m not kidding, Satoru,” you warn. “You leave. I leave.”

���Then leave!” He shouts, hating the way tears sting at his eyes, “do it! I dont need you! You think I do? I’m Gojo Satoru.”

He does. Good fucking god he does, Satoru needs you like he needs water, craves food and forces breath into his lungs, he needs you like he’s paid to and loves you more than himself.

But you can’t know that. Even if not knowing it will drive you away.

You just your lower lip out and shrug, “then leave. Gojo Satoru.”

In desperation, he searches your eyes for something, anything to call your bluff, anything to tell him you’re lying, you won’t leave him. But your eyes tell him nothing, your eyes are closed off and protecting yourself from his venom.

He balls his fists and takes a sharp sniff through his nose in an attempt to ground himself.

“Maybe I will.”

He opens the door before slamming it shut behind him, the vibrations rattling his bones and making him feel even weaker than he was before. He knows that you might slam the door in a not too dissimilar way in but a few hours, cupcakes abandoned and bags packed into your car, leaving your keys in the mailbox and leaving his life for good.

All he can do is hope otherwise.

But in all the lies he can tell himself, that’s one he’s having a hard time believing.

[beomcoups]

Food Wars pt. 1

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, suggestive (next part will be spicier, I promise), coworkers to lovers au, 18+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, mention of death (nothing graphic), suggestive grabs of the hips and ass 💀

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

𝐀𝐍: Part 1 is heeeeeeere! This is apart of the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 2 will be posted soon. There are alot of people here who helped me cultivate this fic and assure me that what I wrote didn't suck lol. Thank you @wooahaeproductions, @seokgyuu, @hobeemin and @hannieween for looking at bits of this for me. Also thank you to @highvern , @cheolism , @okiedokrie @bitchlessdino @gyupremacy for shooting ideas with me (ahem, cologne!) and finally @milfgyuu , I know you want to be tagged in anything related to your man :)

You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are annoyed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, told you. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make them the executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.

It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap to the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you. 

You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at as a chef, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you could plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom.  Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looks like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.

You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie - how you went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find and cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her. 

You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.

“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”

Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. Rich can be a dramatic pain in the ass sometimes.

“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion. 

You need a fucking drink. 

Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog. 

“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.” 

For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”

Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.

“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning them off to be ready for the customers who are set to come in later. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug. 

“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke. 

You nod, grab a granola nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit. 

“So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”

Your morning sucked. You barely slept, and when you finally did, you woke up to three missed alarms and was running an hour late. You had less than a week to plan to leave the country and spent most of your night packing for ten days and making sure your cat, Grey, would be comfortable while you were gone. He is a rescue; you adopted him from the animal shelter when you volunteered with Shena a year ago. He was your cuddle buddy; you haven’t been without him for more than a day. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” you give him a good scratch. He purrs lazily, curling himself into a ball and going back to sleep. You are grateful that Shena’s girlfriend, Lumina, offered to come over and feed him while you were gone. You were considering dropping him off at one of those pet daycares for the week or hiring a cat sitter, but she came through in the nick of time. She works at the animal shelter you adopted her, and coincidentally, that’s where she and Shena met and fell in love. 

It was nice seeing them fall for each other. It was like watching a silly, quirky rom-com play out in front of you. You see the magic in Shena’s eyes when she looks at Lumina, the warmth in her voice when she talks about her. Shena described Lumina as a warm hug on a rainy day, and you could believe that. They are made for each other. 

You hear a notification on your phone telling you your Uber is outside. You send a quick text to Lumina, giving her the code to your door, and give one last look around before you go across the ocean. “Bye, Grey,” you whisper, ensuring the door is locked before leaving.

Silvery-white clouds rolled into the early morning sky as you walked to your Uber, the ground wet from the fresh rain a few hours before. The smell of rain has always soothed you; the clean, earthy petrichor wakes you up a bit more. You quickly greet the driver, putting on your AirPods and playing a playlist you made. You watch the remaining droplets of rain left on the window roll away as your driver cruises down the highway. Where you come from, it hardly rains as it's primarily hot year round. On the rare occasions when it did, you would open your bedroom window, sit in your bed, and watch the water hit the Oleander flowers in your backyard. It was one of your two favorite smells in the world, the other being apple pie. 

Mixed in with your annoyance about having to have a competition to prove yourself as a chef, you are looking forward to leaving the country. You have never been to Spain before, let alone Europe. You have traveled and seen a few things, but Mexico is the farthest you have gone. You spent much time last night looking up main attractions, museums, and local areas to see if you have the time. You want to visit the local markets and taste the local food. Rich set up all of your travel and living arrangements, and all you have to do is show up and cook. You are going to make the most of your time there. Who knows when you will be able to travel again? At the very least, you plan on coming out of this thing, winning it all.

“We’re here.” 

When you look up, the airport entrance pulls up to your right. The ride feels shorter than it is, but you are lost in thought about many things. You thank your driver, grab your suitcases, and walk to the airline’s front desk to turn your bags in. You arrived with thirty minutes left to spare, and there was a long line already; it wasn’t even 8 am. You can’t help but yawn as you hand over your bags to the agents, fatigue and the lack of sleep kicking your ass. 

“You’re all set,” the agent hands over your printed ticket. “Have a safe trip.” You nod, heading towards security and breezing through the checkpoints before arriving in front of the underground train. Your purse feels heavy on your shoulder, and your eyelids threaten to close as you stand. You usually have good sleep management, but you stressed over this trip all night. What if you come all the way out to Spain for nothing? You don’t think you could continue to work for Rich anymore. It would hurt too much. 

The train comes shortly after, and you shuffle inside, trying to find a seat in the back before it is taken. You see one and settle down, your shoulders dropping as you finally sit down. You lean your head on the cold pole, hopeful that closing your eyes for a minute will give you some of your energy back.

“Are you as tired as I am?” You recognize that voice, annoyance slowly creeping in as your longing for a bit of solitude is interrupted. 

“Mingyu, what a surprise,” you mutter without cracking an eye open. 

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your voice. It’s one of a kind,” you deadpan.

He chuckles as the train flicks forward, sitting next to you. You begrudgingly pull out your ticket, realizing you will not get to relax until you’re sitting on that plane. Noting the concourse you need to get off on, you look ahead, counting the stops you have until you have to get off. Mingyu hums softly, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his headphones.  

“Have you ever flown first class before?”

Your head snaps his way, not registering what he’s saying. “What?” “First class? Have you ever been?” “I-uh, no,” you stumble through your words. “Why does it matter?”

“Uh, did you even look at where you’re sitting?”

“Well, yes?” you say incredulously, looking at your ticket again. “Of course, I know where I’m sitting—”

You don’t finish that sentence; instead, your mouth forms a small “o,” unaware that you would be sitting in first class. You have never flown in those seats before, the closest being business class a couple of rows behind the curtain. Those tickets were not cheap, and you only purchased them because you wanted to treat yourself to graduating culinary school, which you were able to do by saving all of your tips from your waitressing job. 

You don’t like admitting that you were wrong, and you aren’t going to admit it now. Instead, you rake your fingers in your hair, nodding and shoving your ticket in your back pocket. 

“You’re welcome,” Mingyu taunts you, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head. 

You can barely suppress your smile, saved by the announcement that your concourse is approaching. You both rise out of your seats, moving towards the doors before the train jerks suddenly, making you fall forward into Mingyu. He grabs your hips, holding you steady until you’ve caught your balance. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, and your body is hypersensitive to his inadvertent touch. His grip is firm and protective, bringing an unexpected tingle to your core. You couldn’t feel more thankful that you were looking down; you couldn’t look him in the eye out of embarrassment. You don’t even have a crush on this guy, yet you feel hot and bothered.

“Be careful, princess,” he crouches low enough for your ears only. “We don’t need you flailing around this train.”

“Don’t do that,” you scoff. “Don’t call me princess.”

“Why?”

The train doors open, and you calmly remove his hands from you, gazing deep into his eyes.

“Because I’m far from that.”

You walk away before he has a chance to respond, looking for the gate you need to be at. Bitchiness aside, you stand on what you said. You aren’t some helpless person waiting in a tower for someone to come save you or give you a handout. You’ve worked hard for everyone to see you more than a woman, as it already has a stigma.  The constant belittling of your intelligence, being told to “wait your turn,” you are done with it. You’ve taken control of your destiny your life, and you will not be treated like some delicate little girl waiting to be saved from a castle… no matter how hot the knight is.

You feel relieved when you find your gate and a familiar face sitting with her iPad in her hand. As if she felt you coming, Shena looks up and waves you over to where she is sitting. Dressed in mint green sweats and matching crocs, she stands out in front of the dull black seats.

“There you are,” she greets you with a hug. “It’s not like you to be late. I sent you a text wondering where you were.”

“You did?”

You pull out your phone, and sure enough, you have received one unread message from her. She must have sent it when you were on the train, distracted by Mingyu and his hands on your body. It’s not like you to get riled up, and it ticks you off that it happened with him, of all people. Your life is a joke. 

You plop down next to her, cocking your head back in exhaustion. Before fully relaxing, you feel the seat beside you shift, followed by the smell of light cologne and chocolate. Looking over, you see Mingyu adjusting his bag before setting it on the ground. He is holding a small chocolate bar and taking a small bite, savoring the decadent treat as he licks his lips. You look away before being caught, chagrined that you were staring at him for that long. What is with you?

“Oh hey there, Gyu,” Shena waves at him. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, I just got here,” he smiles. “I had to find my way to the gate since this one here is a speed walker.”

“Oh? You guys arrived together?”

“Not together, together,” you emphasize. “We just happened to be on the same train, that’s all.” 

You purposely avoid Shena’s eye contact, clearing your throat and changing the subject. 

“Did you notice we are flying first class?”

“Yeah!” Shena beams, pulling out her ticket. “I’ve never been out of the country, let alone first class. Lumina was bummed she couldn’t tag along. The shelter has her tied up, and it is kinda last minute.”

“Aww,” you rub her knee. “There will always be a next time, right?”

Shena nods, and the flight attendants announce they are about to start boarding, starting with first class. You pop out of your seat first, grab your things, and stand in line. Anticipation drills in your heart, wanting nothing more than to sit in some very comfortable seats and sleep throughout this 8-plus hour flight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mingyu behind you, his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. He leans in closer, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as his lips barely touch your ear. 

“I know you’re not a princess,” he whispers. “You’ve proven to be more than that. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to care for you sometimes.”

You were next in line and couldn’t respond without the flight attendants giving you weird looks. Instead, as they check your ticket, you do what you know best: bite your tongue, smile, and push it aside. 

Madrid is exquisite; it is everything you saw on your Pinterest board and more. You’ve been here a few days and are in love. You are surrounded by gorgeous cerulean waters, good weather, and historic sites you always wanted to see as a child. The Almudena Cathedral, one of the most prominent catholic churches in the world, took your breath away when you went to visit. The  Francisco de Cubas architecture throughout made you appreciate art more, one of the most beauteous works you have ever seen in person.

You also took time to visit the local market, talking with the locals about their lives and picking up fresh food to try out different dishes for the competition. Shena was a big help, taking over in Spanish if you needed help and also giving fresh ideas on what to cook. You knew a bit of Spanish to get around the city and ask questions, but coming from a Spanish-speaking household, Shena could convey your ideas in ways you couldn’t understand. You will be forever grateful for that. 

“It looks like we’re here.” Rich called you both to the restaurant this evening to show you around and tell you where your cooking stations would be. The restaurant stood atop a hill, with small walk-up steps made of stone mosaics. Surrounded by boutique shops and a couple of markets, this was the only restaurant on the block; you couldn’t miss it. You understood quickly why Rich took this location. He meets you at the entrance, greeting each other in dos besos. 

“Welcome, let me show you around. Mingyu is already here.” You walk into the small waiting area before entering a gorgeous main dining area with walls made of Spanish moss brick. The bar is neatly placed in the middle, already loaded with the finest wines and other liquors. The dining tables and chairs are made of mahogany, giving you a vibe that you are back home in the country. 

“Ah, there he is,” Rich looks to your right.

Mingyu walks up, wearing a white beater accentuating his well-toned arms and acid-blue jeans that hit him perfectly. You couldn’t stop ogling him if you wanted to; you would’ve thought he was a model off the street if you didn't know him. His eyes scan Rich and Shena before landing on you, a slight smirk on his lips that only you seem to notice. Ever since your encounter at the airport, he’s been on your mind, and you hate it. You still feel his hands on your hips on the train, as if he imprinted on you.  

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to find the bathroom.” “No worries,” Rich waves him off. “Let me show you around.” 

He takes you to where your cooking stations would be, explaining how everything was set up and where to find your ingredients so you could prepare them. The competition is in three days, giving you enough time to finish your menu and prep before the big day. The kitchen is magnificent, a sight straight out of your daydreams: stainless steel appliances, expensive cast irons, and utensils you’ve always wanted that were way out of your budget. You may hate the idea of this competition, but working at this location would be a dream come true. 

“Imagine if we got to work here,” Shena whispers. “I’ve only seen kitchens like these on Master Chef.” You nod in agreement, your fingers barely grasping the counter's surface. Rich finishes showing you around and asks everyone what their plans are leading up to the big day.  “Nothing, just prepping and looking around the city a bit more,” you shrug. “Well, that sounds boring! ” He exclaims. “Madrid has such a fun nightlife. It would be a shame for you to miss out. As a matter of fact, why don’t you kids go to Kapital tomorrow? I can get you a table, and you can let loose.”

“Well, shit, okay!” Shena pipes up before you can respond. 

You groan internally, not in the mood to be body-to-body against strangers, sweating your hair out during loud music. You don’t see yourself having fun until this whole thing is over. How does this guy expect you to relax? It’s not like his dreams are on the line. You look over at Mingyu, who matches your gaze, leaning against one of the refrigerators. 

“Yeah,” his eyes finally tear away from you. “I’m down.”

You’re the only one left who hasn’t given an answer, and everyone is looking at you expecting one. 

“Okay, let’s do it,” you mask your disdain with a smile. 

“Great!” He claps his hands in excitement. “I will send you the details later and get you set up. Have fun.” 

Rich walks you out, and you ask for the bathroom. You need a moment to pee and think in peace. He points you toward one, and you walk into the grand bathroom decorated with an old European interior that was undoubtedly above your salary. You walk to the furthest stall away from the door, rubbing your temples as you do what you need to do. For the most part, you handle stress well. You compartmentalize your feelings about what needs to be done, and you’ve been fine. Even now, with this competition vastly approaching and Mingyu somehow encompassing your thoughts when you’re around him, you’re fine. You haven’t cracked.

You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so much. You still think about when he touched you on the train and how your body felt alive. You haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Is your body so desperate for intimacy that you melt at the first person who gives you attention? No, that can’t be it. You’ve been fine all this time. Why is Mingyu getting under your skin? Shaking those thoughts away, you wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door wide open, you are met by the man who has been plaguing your thoughts since you’ve been here. He was waiting for you, his back leaned against the wall, fiddling with a toothpick in his mouth. 

“Rich and Shena are waiting for you… you can get kind of lost here,” Mingyu says. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod slowly. “Well, let’s go.” The walk back to the front feels longer than it is. He hums a soft tune as he strides beside you, like he’s your equal, your partner. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you feel comfortable. 

“So, what have you been doing since you’ve landed?” Mingyu asks.

“I did some sightseeing,” you respond. “I visited the Almudena Cathedral and the local markets with Shena and got some ingredients for the competition. Oh, and worked on the menu.” “That’s it?” Mingyu looks surprised. “There is so much more of Madrid you have to see.” “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of time to go out there and explore,” you defend yourself. “Plus, I can’t really relax with this thing coming up.” You point at the kitchen. “How do you do it?” “How about I show you?” 

You stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from the door. 

“What do you mean show me?” You eye him suspiciously. “I’m going to pick you and Shena up tomorrow, and we will explore together. There’s so much the world has to offer besides cooking and work.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“You’ll see.”

You both walk outside, and Shena sits at one of the tables, talking candidly on the phone. Rich is nowhere to be found. The moon peeks over the horizon, the white orb’s light shining over the waters. Normally, you wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he has a point. Maybe you should live a little. “You are something. You know that?

Mingyu shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just believe in living life to the fullest. We don’t know how long we may have.”

You eye him more, studying his face in hopes that you can find a false truth and be more at ease. When you don’t, it does the opposite of relaxing you; it makes you nervous. You might be starting to like this guy.

Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll send you the address.”

“He’s here!” You check yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the middle of your blue floral white dress. You opted to wear your hair in a low bun, matching earrings, and a necklace you’ve had for years.  Sliding on your white sandals, you grab your purse and leave your room. “Phew!” Shena whistles at you. “Qué guapa estás!”

You roll your eyes playfully as she pops out of her seat, sporting a white top and blue jeans, accessorized with a light cardigan and a simple gold necklace. You usually wouldn’t dress up this nice for an outing with friends (and Mingyu), but you wanted to be prepared for anything, and it would kill you if you were underdressed. Plus, you were going to be in Europe! Why wouldn’t you want to be prepared?

You walk out of your Airbnb and meet Mingyu as he comes in. He is dressed casually in a white collared shirt and black shorts, the slight breeze lifting his shirt and exposing his abs. It took a lot of brainpower to look away, instead diverting your attention to the inside of your purse. He looks tanned and relaxed, as if he is one with Madrid. If only you could relax like that. 

“Hey, Gyu,” Shena waves. “Thank you for leading the way on this grand adventure.” 

“No problem,” Mingyu smiled. “I want this to be a fun day, and I figured we have a driver, so why not?”

He looks at you, and your heart patters. The sun and slight breeze do not help your plight as you fight internally against acknowledging how sexy he looks. You hate your body for the way it’s betraying you right now, feeling inadvertently turned on. 

“You look pretty,” he marveled at you. 

“Thanks,” you nod sheepishly, walking to the black car behind him. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

There is a tiny bit of you that wants you to look good for him, to be seen that you put in the effort. When you get in the car, you greet the driver, sitting in the back row, hoping he will get the hint that you want to be left to yourself and your thoughts. But that didn’t work that way, as he climbs in and sits right next to you, with Shena seated in the row in front. His cologne is light, different from the usual sweet, chocolatey smell you’re accustomed to when he’s around. It’s enchanting, exciting, and further puts you in a mood. “So where are we going?” Shena probed, snapping on her seatbelt. “The Royal Palace,” Mingyu announced. “They have a tour, and I figured we could get lunch afterward.”

The driver pulls off, and you gaze outside the window, admiring the beautiful architecture of Madrid. Visiting the Royal Palace was on your bucket list, but you didn’t think you would have time. You’ve seen the pictures on Pinterest and talked to some locals at the restaurant who have been, but you’ve always been told that tickets are hard to get. You never thought it would be attainable for you.

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s deep voice infiltrates your thoughts. 

“Nothing, really,” you say, smoothing out your dress. “I am just enjoying the foreign atmosphere.” 

“Foreign atmosphere?” Mingyu chuckles. “That’s an interesting way of saying you enjoy the view.”

“Well, are we not in a foreign place?” You retort. 

“Well, yes.”

“Alright then.” You look back out the window, biting your lip to hold back a grin. You are thankful for the soft tunes from the car radio, letting the reggaeton beats drown out your very loud thoughts. Mingyu gets you riled up in a way that no one can. He doesn’t frustrate you in ways like the other men do at the restaurant. Deep down, it’s not in an ill manner; he is just like the golden retriever: nudging your leg with a bone in his mouth, begging you to play with him.

“I brought you something,” he nudges your shoulder. “I know you didn’t eat.” You look down and see that he is holding a granola bar coated with vanilla and almonds, poking out of a sandwich bag. The sweet smell is heaven to your nose, and your mouth slightly salivates. He tapes Shena on the shoulder, handing her one of her own.

“You made this?” Shena probes, carefully taking it from him. “This is really sweet.”

You take a small bite of it, and your taste buds do a happy dance. The vanilla was freshly made, and you taste the granola, almond, and sweet spices used to make this perfect bar. You aren’t big on breakfast, as you’re used to getting up and moving on the go, but occasionally, you will grab a granola bar and eat it on your breaks at work, this one explicitly being your favorite. Maybe Mingyu knows you better than you thought.

“You’re right,” you confessed. “I hadn’t eaten anything. Thank you.” The car pulls to a stop, arriving at the grandiose building known as The Royal Palace. You wait until everyone leaves the vehicle, barely climbing out without tripping over your feet. Standing outside of the gates, you are in awe. You aren’t sure if it’s dopamine, but the air suddenly feels different and almost cleaner. You scrambled into your purse, pulling out your portable camera to photograph the palace. This place may not be one of the world's seven wonders, but in your heart, it is. “Oooo, let’s take pictures while we are here,” Shena squeals.

She pulls you and Mingyu close to her, takes over the camera, and snaps a few photos together and separately. Usually, you would be annoyed if it was someone else, but she is your best friend. You can let her get away with a few things. Mingyu goes to the booth to confirm they have arrived, returning with three tickets to take inside. “We can go in through a separate entrance since I got the tickets ahead of time,” he announces. You flip through the pictures through the camera, excited to take more. You feel his eyes bore into you, and you suddenly feel hot. 

“What are you looking at?” You say, putting your camera away. 

“Your smile,” he confesses with a cheeky grin. “I want to see it more often.”

You gaze at each other for a moment, your mouth parted with much to say and nothing at the same time. Mingyu keeps leaving you speechless, and you aren’t mad about it anymore.

“Are you two gonna keep staring at each other lovingly, or are we gonna do this thing?” Shena’s words snap you out of your reverie, and Mingyu chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. You walk over to her, linking your arm with yours. 

“There is nothing loving going on.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go look at some royalty.”

When you planned for this trip, you set a time to visit the Almudena Cathedral, visit the local markets, and plan your menu. You weren’t going to hold Shena to that standard even though she is your assistant. You thought you would be fine if you focused on nothing but food and didn’t get distracted. Mingyu, however, might be proving you wrong. 

You sit at his Airbnb, watching him make lunch for you and Shena. He insisted on making something instead of eating out somewhere, and who are you to turn down a free meal? The Royal Palace was everything you imagined, learning about the history of Spain beyond what was in your textbooks in high school. You consider yourself a history buff, wanting to learn more about the world across the different seas. You’ve had that desire when you were a little girl, sitting on your grandmother’s lap and listening to her stories from when she traveled as a young adult. She never got to visit Spain, but she talked about it a lot, being that they were world conquerors (or, as you like to say, colonizers) back in the day. You really miss her. 

Mingyu sets your plate in front of you, a fried calamari sandwich with a side of garlicky mayo and fries he made himself. He tops it off with a small squeeze of lemon juice, just as you like it. When you make this at the restaurant, you always add lemon juice on top to give it more depth, but instead of the mayo, you have paprika-spiced tomato sauce on the side. Either way, this shows that Mingyu has been paying attention when you felt incognito. 

“Dig in,” he announces, sitting next to you at the island bar. 

It’s a comfortable silence between you three, munching away at your well-seasoned meal. If you had to be honest with yourself, it’s the best sandwich you have ever had. He fried the calamari in olive oil, turning it every minute or so because it doesn’t take that long to cook. He apparently had the calamari sitting in milk in the refrigerator since this morning, allowing it to tenderize before mixing it with his own seasoning flour. You and Shena offered to help, but he turned you down, stating you were his guests and he wanted to treat you to something good before you went out later that night. 

“This was really good,” Shena praises him as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You have to come over again and make these for Lumina and me.”

“Anything for you two,” he teases. “As long as you keep making those margaritas.” They howl in laughter, and you feel a bit awkward as if they have an inside joke that you aren’t a part of. You smile politely, finishing off the last bit of your food before getting off your stool and grabbing your plate to wash. 

“Aht aht,” Shena blurts, scrambling out of her seat. “I will be handling the cleanup. You two sit out there and act like you like each other.”

Your eyes throw darts at her for that last sentence, and she blows you a kiss as you walk to the balcony for some fresh air. The warm sun is welcome on your skin, the warmth taking away the chill you have in your bones from inside. You stare out into the sea, watching the boats go back and forth from the ports, the busy life from the markets a site to behold. You feel completely at peace for the first time since you’ve been here. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Mingyu pokes his head out from the balcony door, holding a pink lemonade decorated with an umbrella. 

“Sure, if you are bringing that,” you quip, pointing at the drink. 

“Of course, princess,” he jests back.

As you take the drink, you raise an eyebrow, debating whether you should be annoyed at that nickname or amused that he’s teasing you. He stands comfortably next to you, admiring the cerulean blue waters in front of you. 

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to leave.” 

You look at him, his happy-go-lucky nature replaced by a look of sadness and longing. It’s unnerving, as you have always seen him with a warm orange aura around him. His hands grip the gate as he takes a softer, deeper breath, turning to face you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod slowly, your anxiety ticking up about what he wants to ask. 

“What got you into cooking?”

You look away, staring back into the calm sea. No one has bothered to ask you anything personally about yourself besides Shena and Lumina, and you are unsure how to respond. It would mean opening a part of you to someone new, and you haven’t done that in a long time. It means that you would have to relieve your past and start trusting him, and you are scared of that. 

Stepping across the magical line of faith and hope, you take a sip of your lemonade. “My grandma used to cook a lot growing up, and I would sit in the kitchen and watch her. Whatever you wanted, she could make it. My parents weren’t around, and she was the one who raised me. I eventually started cooking with her, which spurned my love for cooking, but mainly because I was doing it with her.” You pause, your breath shaky as you relive one of the hardest moments of your life. “On Christmas, I found her unconscious beside her chair. Apparently, she had a stroke and didn’t have oxygen for fifteen minutes before I saw her. I did everything I could to save her by hooking her with her oxygen machine before the paramedics arrived, but it was too late. She was declared brain dead.”

Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, embarrassed that you let yourself reach this point in front of Mingyu. He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to cry a little in his arms. Unbeknownst to you, Shena walks out and notices your tears, but Mingyu shushes her quietly, allowing you to grieve just a little bit longer. You regain your composure, giving yourself some space and adjusting his shirt. “I ruined your shirt,” you pout. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly. “You need something to lean on, and I’m glad I got to be that for you.”

Gazing into his eyes, you see the familiar warm orange swirling in his little orbs. Inadvertently, you move closer to him, your heart and body overruling your mind for once. Mingyu responds kindly, pulling you closer to him with his hands dangerously on your hips. 

“Is it okay if I—”

“Mingyu, do it before I change my mind.”

His lips press against yours, and your legs almost buckle. It is soft and tentative, as if he is playing it safe in case you want out. But you don’t; instead, you kiss him deeper. It is as if something takes over you, and you can’t stop. Call it desire, passion, or any other synonym, but it’s what you feel. You want him, and so does he. His hands travel lower, giving your butt a soft squeeze, and you accidentally moan in his mouth. You think he likes it, though, because his bulge is hardening against your center. 

“If we don’t stop, there is no coming back from this,” he breathes.

Your mind regains consciousness at those words; you know he is right. With one last kiss, you begrudgingly pull away, walking back inside and squarely bumping into Shena. 

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She joked while taking a good look at you. 

“Nothing, let’s just go,” you insist. “We still have to get ready for tonight and all.”

Shena looks at you and the balcony suspiciously but doesn’t say anything; honestly, you appreciate that. You don’t know how you can answer any questions she may throw at you. All you know right now is Mingyu drives you fucking crazy. 

Part 2 will be coming soon. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are much appreciated :)

tag: @nonuify

[veritasangel]

Places they'll fuck you (outside of the bedroom)

ft. Simon 'Ghost' Riley, John Price, Keegan Russ (pt.1)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni}

↣ vaginal penetration (unprotected), creampie (john), fingering (keegan), oral, cum swallowing (ghost)

↣ pt.2 is in my drafts and posting it tomorrow (soap, alejandro and gaz)

wc: 1.2k

John Price - his office desk

This man is a slut for a power difference.

You cannot convince me that calling him captain or sir doesn’t immediately make him hard.

So, his office at base, with you bent over his desk is one of his favourite things.

bonus: will leave the door unlocked, so you constantly worry about one of the guys coming in.

Your breasts pressed against the cold, hard surface of the desk as your hips met each of Price's thrusts, the erotic sound of skin meeting skin was accompanied by the occasional soft clatter of falling papers and the slight creak of the desk.

Sweat trickled down your spine, glistening under the soft glow of the lamps on the desk. Your cries of pleasure mingled with the increasing tempo of his precise movements. Each thrust calculated and powerful, driving you wild.

The combination of his expert touch and the controlled aggression in his thrusts spiralled you closer to the edge.

He matched your escalating pleasure, driving into you relentlessly, his thrusts growing more intense. He could feel the heat of your tight pussy clenching around him. The sensation, combined with the sound of your moans and the image of you rocking back against him, pushed him to the brink.

"Come for your captain," he commanded, his voice deep and demanding. "Let go for me, here, on my desk."

The command was all you needed. Your body convulsed, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your muscles clenching around Price, milking his cock as your release consumed you. The intensity of the climax caused you to moan loudly, the sound echoing through the room. And no doubt down the corridors.

Price felt his own release rapidly approaching, the grip of your walls around him, pushed him past the point of no return. With a deep, guttural groan, he let go, holding your hips close to him as he filled you with as much as he could.

Exhausted, he leaned over you, his forehead touching the back of your neck. Your bodies both heaved with each ragged breath.

Slowly, he withdrew, gently pressing a tender kiss between your shoulder blades. He helped you stand, as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The mess you both had made on the desk was not at all important right now.

Price's hand moved to the nape of your neck, tilting your face upwards to meet his gaze. "That was..." he takes a deep breath, "...much needed after my day, my dear," he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft, loving kiss, his arms still firmly around you.

“I’m glad I could help, captain.” you joke, smiling into the kiss.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - a safe house

He feeds off the danger.

It’s really not the time or place but he’s turned on and if you’re offering, he ain’t turning it down.

Sexual tension is so high between the two of, he convinces you both that it’s better for the mission if you get it out of your system.

Your fingers stroked his cock gently as you leaned forward, softly kissing the tip, before taking it into your mouth.

Ghost's shaky breath only encouraged you, working your tongue along his shaft as you bobbed your head. Your hands worked in tandem, stroking the base, making sure not to neglect the sensitive area.

Ghost's hand found its way to the back of your head, taking a fistful of your hair, gently guiding you as you sucked him off with enthusiasm in the small cold room, trying to be quick about it as the two of you really needed to get out of here.

His breath hitched at the feeling, eyes clenched shut as he fought so hard to keep quiet. His hips started to move, meeting your fervent sucking with thrusts of his own. The room filled with wet, slurping sounds, punctuated by Ghost's groans.

His control began to slip. The way you took him in, the way your eyes met his each time you pulled away from his cock, it was almost too much for him. His grip in your hair tightened, the need to reach his limit overpowering everything else.

"I'm close-fuck- I'm so close-" he warned, his voice a low growl.

Your pace picked up in response and it didn't take long before he came, filling your mouth. You swallowed, not missing a single drop as you looked up at him.

Ghost's hips stilled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you pulled away, licking your lips, a smirk plastered on your face.

He was left standing there, his boxers still down, staring at you adoringly, a mixture of gratitude and lust in his eyes.

"You really should learn to control yourself during times like these, Lieutenant." you smirked.

Keegan Russ - somewhere high with an overhead view

It’s the sniper in him, he likes the view.

Feels in his zone when he's high up and the combo of you and the incredible view? He loves it.

Will take you for a hike and fuck you at the top whilst watching the sunset.

Keegan has you sat in his lap, panties to the side as his middle and ring finger continuously thrust in and out of you.

Smirks as you writhe with every touch, your back arching into his. "Stop closing your eyes baby, look at the view." he encourages.

Your eyes flutter open, vision blurring with desire. His fingers in perfect synchronization, hitting right against that sweet spot that has you seeing stars.

You let out a soft whine, head falling back onto his shoulder as your hips buck against his hand. Keegan's strong hand grips your hip, keeping you in place as he controls the tempo of his fingers, knows how much you can take.

You force your eyes open, focusing on the cityscape before you. The only spectator of the two of you being the stars in the night sky.

As his fingers pump in and out of you, the image of the cityscape blurs, distorting into a kaleidoscope of colours. Keegan's thumb rubs small circles around your clit, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

"Look at the stars, angel." he whispers into your ear, his voice low and seductive as he lightly nibbles on your earlobe.

Your breath catches in your throat as Keegan's fingers increase their pace.

He buried his face against your neck, biting softly, his hands working you faster than ever. The sudden burst of intimacy combined with the relentless stimulation pushed you over the edge.

You cried out, your orgasm washing over you in waves, the world around you fading into nothingness. Keegan didn't stop until your body trembled and shook in his arms, your release slowing down, leaving you breathless.

He leaned back, his fingers leaving your soaked core as you slumped against him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His arm wrapped around your waist, his hand making lazy circles on your stomach.

"That's a view worth seeing," he teases, his lips grazing your ear. And the two of you share a smile before laughing s you take in the view.

༄ cod m.list ༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it.

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[dragonsholygrail]

*rolls into chat*

Hi. I'm sharing this because of your last post btw

Firefighter centaur!

Reader has to help him get all the gear off after a long tiring day because that's a LOT of hair for someone who works with fires and accidents.

*welcomes into chat with open arms*

And omg this is so good!! (I went off, my bad!) I also had to re-write this entire thing when I was almost done because my tumblr crashed and I’m absolutely devastated but worth it for firefighter centaur.

Imagine firefighter centaur works in forest fires so it’s all the more dangerous and on such a bigger scale when he does get called in. Which of course makes reader even more nervous whenever there’s a fire.

Constantly pacing the living room of your shared home, biting your nails, with your eyes latched firmly on to the tv. Not being able to look away for even a second. Just waiting to hear any news about the crew of centaur firefighters as they come in and out of the blazing flames.

Your heart drops heavily into your stomach as you catch sight of him, being able to recognize him anywhere. You find yourself unable to breathe as you watch your partner jump over a burning trunk with ease. All while carrying a handful of nymphs to safety. A couple in his arms and a few riding his back.

Watching your partner be so heroic like that takes your breath away. Or maybe it’s just because you’re relieved he’s alive. Either way it sends a violent need to thrum through your body. A need to go to him and be near him, no matter the risk. You don’t hesitate for a moment and you’re out of the house before you can even turn off the television.

There’s barricades all over the place when you arrive at the scene. Your eyes search frantically around the area, looking for just one feature that you’re familiar with to find him. But your heart is hammering within your chest and your mind spins with more horrible ‘what ifs’ by the minute.

Given your state, it was no surprise to you that he found you first, calling out your name. You whirl around till your eyes fall onto him. Both of you immediately start heading toward each other. You meet in the middle, arms wrapping tightly around each other. Your firefighter centaur smells so thickly of smoke you want to choke. But none of that matters because he’s in your arms and in one piece. No matter how much of his fur is singed.

“What the hell are you doing here? You could have been hurt!” Your partner shouts, sounding almost as frantic as you feel. He leans back enough to cup your face in his hands, looking as though he’s wondering if this is real.

“I saw you- I saw you come through the fire. And there’s so many things on you that it could’ve caught onto. I had to. I had to come. I had to see you and make sure…” you ramble on, words spilling from your mouth. Your mind unraveling now that you know he's sate. "You're alive."

His face softens considerably and he brings you back into his arms.

"Well you got here just in time. I think the fires coming down anyway." He holds you tight and you clutch onto him just as fiercely. Using his strong hold to assure yourself he's really here.

After you both get back to the firehouse you slowly and gently help him take off all his gear. You can tell he's seriously exhausted. Eyes drooping, shoulders slumped, and tail swooshing lazily.

You let him relax as you get started on cleaning up and preparing his gear for washing. It's a rigorous ritual all on its own and you know he's in no state to take care of it right now. But when he blinks his eyes open and realizes what you're doing, it doesn't stop him from trying to do it anyway.

“Hey, stop that. I can do it fine,” he sluggishly tries to interrupt, not wanting you to do his work for him.

All you have to do is shy away from his mindlessly wandering hands, bringing his gear with you. Unintelligible grumbles leave his lips in response.

“I know how to do it. Watched you so many times it would be an insult if I didn’t. I got this,” you assure him.

After all he went through he doesn’t have the energy to fight you on this. When he doesn’t reply you go back to helping situate his gear. You hear the heavy clops of his hooves and a moment later his arms are wrapping around you from behind, his head resting comfortably on top of your head.

“Thank you,” he says softly, those two words alone dripping with appreciation and love for you.

The firehouse is empty, you two being the last ones left to finish up for the night. It’s in that moment, his body curled up around you as you help him in a way that means more than he can describe, that it was as if neither of you had ever felt safer.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hii!! i hope this is where requests go! but i was wondering if you could do either a remus x reader or poly x reader- (would rather poly but idk what you prefer) where they’ve been getting bruises from somewhere, but they don’t rlly notice it until it’s like finger prints somewhere, it could be like an ex harassing them or something? something along those lines of them being protective and hurt/comfort <33

hi sweetness! sorry it took so long! poly!marauders x gn!reader

cw: mentions of physical abuse from coworker. post-trauma stress, swearing

1.1k words

You had been growing increasingly skittish. Before these series of incidents, your boyfriends had been able to touch you whenever and wherever with little reaction. (with the exception of pleasant shivers). Sirius seemed to always have his hands in your back pockets, James had a habit of coming up behind you and nuzzling into your neck, and Remus, though not very tactile, would brush his hands appreciatively over your hips and waist. But in the past few weeks, your boys had been pulling back. And you knew the reason, you knew it was your fault. 

It had started with slight flinches. When Sirius gripped your shoulder affectionately and you jumped, eyes wide with fear. At any other time, the press of his fingertips would be pleasant. But when he squeezed the broken skin- broken skin he had no knowledge of -you winced and whimpered in pain. He immediately pulled his hand back, concern notched between his dark brows, and you immediately began reassuring and apologizing. You told him that you were just tense, that his touch was unexpected but not unwelcome, but he had still been careful since then. After a string of similar circumstances with James and Remus, they had all been handing you with kid gloves. 

Your behavior had changed as well. You had swapped your normal tank tops and tees for crew neck hoodies and sweaters, long sleeves to cover the purple and green spots littering your arms. Your face had been permanently tense in an attempt to stifle grimaces from rising up. You were sore, mentally exhausted, chronically anxious, and your boyfriends could tell. You had been constantly reassuring them of you being fine, but you could see their suspicion growing with every attempt. You could feel the tension thick in the air, attempting to rear its ugly head. 

Despite every attempt to seem normal, you still flinched when James touched your back, trying to pass behind you. 

“Right behind you, lovely” instead the usual comfort James’ voice carried, it put you on edge, making you inhale sharply, tensing your whole body. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut, urging the panic to leave your body. Only when your breathing slowed down did you realize the crippling silence that had taken over the room. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweet thing?” Sirius probed, unusually careful. He was eyeing you suspiciously over his laptop screen. You quickly fixed your face, grateful for the distance the bar island put between you and your investigating boyfriend. 

“Yup. I’m all good, just startled me ‘s all.” You went back to chopping the vegetables in front of you with slightly too much vigor. The boys were still silent. You quickly changed the subject. “Remmy, can you grab the turkey from the fridge for me, please?” 

“Sure, dovey.” He walked behind you to get to the icebox. You made sure not to shudder as he made his way. He stopped, looking over your shoulder. Every nerve was standing to attention.

“You okay, honey?” You did everything to keep your voice from coming out strained. 

“I’m okay.” Remus sounded slightly confused. “Here, sweetheart. Your sleeves are going to get in the way.” He reached over to roll your sleeves up. A sweet gesture at its core, but you still froze in panic. He pulled them all the way up to your elbows. You just stared at the cutting board, wincing when James hissed, quickly making his way over to inspect further. Sirius took his computer glasses off, nearly catapulting himself over the bar. 

“Fuck, baby. What happened to you?” Sirius went straight to the issue. He grabbed your wrist, tilting your stained flesh towards the light. There were small, round splotches on the delicate skin of your wrist. Before you could find an excuse, Remus took your wrist. When he held your arm, his fingers fitting almost perfectly into the marks, he inhaled deeply.

“Who the fuck did this.” Remus bit out. James reached over to place a hand on his shoulder and Sirius gave him a pleading look, but nothing was going to calm him. Usually it would be Remus calming Sirius down, but when Remus’ fierce protectiveness comes out, nothing can pull it back in. In these cases, Sirius acts as the calmer one. 

“Rem, it’s ok-” You started.

“It’s not fucking okay! Someone put their goddamn hands on you and I need to know who did it.” Despite his voice growing in volume, he was still handling you ever so gently. James still moved between you and Remus, suspecting that Remus’ extremely visible stress would only put you more on edge. 

“Sweetheart,” James started, keeping his voice calm, even as it wobbled with worry. “Is this why you’ve been so tense lately?” Before another denial could form on your tongue, James continued. “Please, lovely. You can tell us. We won’t be mad, we just want to help you.” His dark eyes were searching your face, looking for any shred of emotion to cling to. 

Everything just felt so raw. You knew you were being ganged up on, drowned with affection and it was all too much. You pressed your lips together to keep them from wobbling but it was no use. Your eyes filled with hot tears and sobs started to wrack your body. Weeks of pent-up hurt came spilling out. 

“I just-” You struggled to get the words out between too-fast breaths. The boys caged you in, but for the first time in weeks, you felt comforted rather than clutched. 

“Take your time, baby. It’s okay. We’re not going to leave you.” Sirius smoothed your hair out of your damp face. 

“T-they hired someone at work. I-I used to know them.” You struggled. Pausing to suck in small bits of air. You could see questions spinning in their heads, but they didn’t interrupt. “I guess I make them mad. I’ve always made them mad. I don’t mean to, but I just d- do.” 

“Nothing.” Remus’ voice was sharp, but terribly kind. “Nothing you could do would make this okay. This is not your fault. Never has been, never was. No matter how upset they are, they don't get to hurt you.” You kept shaking, hot tears dripping off of your jaw. 

“I-” You struggled. “I’ve been so scared.” When you said this, Sirius caged you in his arms. You knew this struck a nerve with him too. 

“I know, baby. I know. I’m so so sorry you’ve been dealing with this yourself. It must have been so hard. But we’ve got you now. You’re going to be okay.” You couldn’t get words out anymore, but it was okay. They would stay with you until you could. 

“We aren’t going to let them do this to you anymore, you hear me?” James pulled your face out of Sirius’ neck to make you look at him. “We’re going to fix this.” 

[bueckersstrap]

CASUAL / MY FAVOURITE BRA LIVES IN YOUR DRESSER / WE’RE NOT TOGETHER / YOU WONDER WHY I’M BITTER

c speaks ; this has been rotting in my drafts for so long omfg 😣 i needed to get something out so idk 🤷🏽‍♀️ also my writing makes me cringe so bad omfg i read this back in horror…… but whatevs 🙂‍↕️

wc ; 1.1k (short ik butttt)

warnings ; alludes to sexual content, almost smut, paige is an asshole, language

not spell checked n this is a draft so it’s not perfect yk ?? 😁

It was a saturday night – a long one at that. You were laid up with your girlfriend, no, casual hookup, Paige Bueckers. She called you up after their loss against Iowa state.

 “Yo, Y/N,” “Hello?” Your voice rang muffled through the phone, it was around 2 when she called. “We lost. You in the city?” You deeply sighed, “Yeah, for the weekend.” You rubbed your forehead in exhaustion. Not necessarily because you were tired but because you were at your wits end with Paige’s late night calls, but you weren’t innocent either as you always picked up and complied.

But, how couldn’t you? She had you completely wrapped around her finger. She knew you too well and knew exactly what to say and what to do, you were utterly captivated by Paige and there was nothing you could do to resist it.

She airily chuckled, “So, you like, tryna come over?” “Yeah,” You replied with little to no hesitation, “I’ll be there in 20.” You hung up almost immediately after the words left your mouth, you didn’t know why you accepted the invitation with such open arms. All your friends called you a loser for constantly beckoning at Paige’s call. It slightly took you by surprise when her contact had illuminated your phone screen, she hadn’t called in a while and according to her finsta posts it clearly didn’t bother her as much as it did you. 

You ruffled the clothes in your top drawer, trying to find the matching bra and panties that Paige liked. When you realized you were only looking for the set because she liked them it sent a wave of nausea in your stomach. You eventually gave up looking with a sigh because you couldn’t find it, you glanced at the time that read 2:15. You didn’t want to be late so you picked out another set and clothed yourself, spraying two extra sprays of your perfume and lotioning with the matching pair.

‘im omw’

‘k’

The dry response made your stomach churn. Maybe you read too much into things but, god, she really couldn’t have cared less about you. For a second, just a split second, you sat in your car, nearly sinking into the leather of your seats rethinking about even going. You knew if you didn’t she would most likely never call you up again and thinking about not feeling the soft pads of her fingertips against your face, your hips, your body, made your head whirl with emotion. So, instead of getting out of your car (which in retrospect probably would’ve been the right choice), you started it and started driving.

You paced in the elevator, biting at your lips and fixing your fresh makeup in the camera of your phone. You strolled down the hallway and knocked at her door and there she was in all her glory. Her hair was wavy from her signature braids and she was clad in black shorts and a white Nike sports bra. “Hey,” She breathed all while looking you up and down, you smiled back and caught yourself in a blush. She signalled for you to come in and so you did. You kicked off your air forces and she pulled you in by the waist – that touch that you constantly yearned for, the touch that you feared to never feel again. Your lips connected and the way she swiftly slipped her tongue in your mouth sent heat straight to your core. The kiss intensified and you were led into her bedroom being pushed down onto the bed. 

She pushed her bare knee in between your legs, both spreading them open and applying pressure where you needed relief the most. “Fuck, Paige more,” You moaned out, breaking the kiss and tilting your head back which gave you a semi-clear view in your peripheral of Paige’s phone lighting up in intervals of seconds. You tried to focus back at Paige and the way she was sucking dark marks on your chest but it kept happening. She picked up on it when she asked, “What's wrong, mama?” you paused between asking her a question you probably didn’t want the answer to, or just leaving it. Unfortunately, you picked the first option. “Who’s blowing up your phone?” Your tone shot out a lot more acrid than you’d like. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” She harshly laughed, going to reach for her phone. 

You propped yourself up on the white pillows behind you looking at Paige’s inquisitive face. “So? Who is it?” You asked with a tinge of frustration in your voice, and instead of her answering she just waved her hand at you in a ‘shoo’ motion. You took matters into your own hand and glanced over her phone, “Bro, what the fuck?” She quickly swiped her phone and stood up. You felt yourself choke up in your throat, you didn’t see much but from what you could see it was some initial you couldn’t make out and a bunch of unnecessary hearts beside it.

"Who is that, Paige?" you demanded, almost pleading for an answer. "We're not even together, so why does it matter so much? We agreed on no attachments." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Casual?"

"Casual is wild work considering you treat me like I’m your girlfriend or something," You started pulling your shirt back up, suddenly feeling the rush of exposure like a million eyes clinging to the bare flesh of your chest.

She let out a laugh at your pointed statement, "I don’t know what dreamland you’re living in, but I treat you like normal,”  

Your eyes widened as you pressed your hands against your forehead. “Normal? This,” you gestured between the two of you, “Is what you call ‘normal’? You’re fucking insane Paige.”

You were genuinely caught off guard and confused about where the lines had blurred between you and Paige’s casual hookup.

“It’s been working fine for a while, you just want to pick a fight for no good reason.” she accused casually. You struggled to meet her gaze, your eyes darting around the room until they landed on it– the bra to the matching set you had been looking for earlier. It dawned on you that your bra (and likely your panties) had been residing in Paige’s dresser for some time.

"Hello?" Paige waved her hand in front of your face, snapping you back to reality. "Is it so casual for you to keep my bra in your drawer? Is that casual enough for you?" You marched over and pulled it out of the slightly open drawer.

“I don’t understand why you’re so bitter about this. I called you to fuck, not console you about shit that doesn’t involve you. God, you’re just so difficult,” Paige followed you out of her bedroom as you walked out in front of her, pure disbelief took over your mind and body.

“Nice to know how much you care, Paige.” Grabbing your air forces, you lazily slipped them on and stuffed the bra into your pocket. You unlocked the door and bitterly walked out.

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ rainy days

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing, kissing, swearing

a/n: hellooo. so so so sorry for not posting anything, i was on a school trip to rome for a week! brewed this up super quickly, sorry if you can tell it hurried lmao. I LOVE YOUUU ALL

་༘࿐˚⋆ it had been raining constantly the whole day. the gentle patter of rain on the windows created a cozy atmosphere, the dark clouds outside only adding to the feeling of a huge embrace.

most people would find this weather boring or sad, unable to open the windows, or go outside, almost isolating themselves from the outside and social world. opposite to you, you loved this type of weather. being able to allow yourself to snuggle up inside on either your couch or shared bed with matt, you were far from complaining about anything.

་༘࿐˚⋆ your past week had been frantic to say the least. on top of that it felt like it was never coming to a stop. taking extra shifts, having your amount of rude customers tripled, and your meetings seeming endless. there was nothing more you wanted than going home to your boyfriend and waste away the weekend in each other's arms.

you left the sliding doors to your workplace, running to your car to avoid getting too drenched in the hectic weather. you slouched down in the driver's seat, immediately closing the door before unbuttoning your blazer to throw it in the passenger seat beside you.

it took you a second before you turned on the car, checking to see if any mascara had been smudged, using the tiny mirror in the sun visor of your car. the drive home wasn’t too bad. your shift had ended late, so the traffic in boston was bearable, but of course not one hundred percent avoidable due to it being a Friday night.

when you arrived in your driveway you didn’t waste a second to grab your blazer and bag, running inside again to avoid the rain soaking you. the door swung open, closing behind you as you entered the hall. 

“matt, I’m home! finally,” you yelled, taking off your heels, steadying yourself by grabbing onto the wall.  in a matter of a few seconds, matt entered the hall with a blanket wrapped around him.

for a second you just stared at each other, your tired-looking face instantly lighting up into a toothy grin. matt had never looked this cozy or huggable. “hi. sorry, i feel asleep, i look like a mess.” matt mumbled, his voice a little deeper than normally, probably due to his current state. 

you didn’t answer him because deep down you didn’t mind at all. he looked so adorable. taking a few steps forward you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a tight hug.

“god, i’ve missed you so much,” you whispered into his neck, not planning to let go of him anytime soon.

“what do you mean, i literally saw you this morning?” matt chuckled, fisting his blanket to wrap it around the both of you.

“yeah, but my week has never been this packed. i feel like i haven’t seen you for weeks,” you smile back, even though he couldn’t see it, closing your eyes as you immediately got comfortable from just his touch and presence.

slowly, matt made his way backwards into the living room, careful not to hit any interior, still having his arms and blanket around you.

“don’t worry one bit about it. at least we have the whole weekend to spend together, and then we’ll pray next week is a little different,” matt laughed at his emphasis on ‘pray’, gently removing his arms from around your shoulders to let you sit on the couch.

you collapsed on the couch, immediately throwing your head back in pure exhaustion.

“plus, it’s raining.” matt smiled excitedly, allowing himself to lay his head into your lap. 

you couldn’t hold back your smile, his pure excitement from rain making you blush.

“oh god, i love you so much, matt. but don’t get too comfortable, i need to get out of this skirt.” you giggled, holding onto matt’s jaw as he got up with a fake pout, eliciting a laugh from the both of you.

“and- and then chris said i was pining for you, telling me to stop bitching and whining. so then i went home again and fell asleep. and with god’s grace, you walked into the hall,” matt continued to talk about his day, sitting next to you on the couch.

the rain was still pouring outside. occasionally there would be a thunder or lightning strike, but it only added to the atmosphere. not that weather like this was enjoyable, but both you and matt found it extremely comforting.

“seriously? what the fuck, you went to chris’s place to talk about me?” you laughed, taking another sip of your cup of tea.

you were wearing matt’s pajamas since he refused to let you use your own, a huge, heavy blanket resting around you as you and matt continued on with your conversation.

matt just nodded, taking another sip from his cup to hide his reddening face. there was silence for a bit, but it was comfortable.

 it didn’t last too long, because in the matter of a second, matt was sprawled out on top of you, making you laugh loudly, attempting to push him off of you but still being gentle with your pushing and kicking.

the night ended cuddled up in your shared bed, the curtains shut but the moonlight shining palely through it. one of your hands were under the covers, holding matt’s, the other resting on his cheek. the storm outside seemed to be endless since you could still hear the comforting patter on the windows.

“i love the rain,” you randomly whisper, brushing a few strands of hair out of matt’s eyes with a smile. he smiled back, pecking your forehead with adoration.

“me too. it’s definitely my favorite type of weather, no doubt.” matt whispered back, still playing with your hair.

you nod, shuffling a bit around to get comfortable under the thick covers, but luckily you weren’t too hot or too cold. matt made sure to hold tightly onto your hand, holding you as if you were gonna slip out of his grip.

“but, i love my boyfriend even more,” you said in a sing-song voice, giggling at his face, attempting to look very confused.

“ohh. i wonder who that could be. i haven’t seen you around with a lot of guys recently?” he tried to hold back a laugh, tapping his chin as if he was deeply philosophizing.

you let out a laugh, making matt drop his act to join in on your laughter. he pulled you even closer, if possible, letting you rest your head into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.

safe to say, you fell asleep comfortably. nothing but silence, except matt and your’s silent snoring and of course, the rain. it was days like this that made up to your week if it had been tough. tea, rain, blankets, boyfriend, movies, cuddles and kisses.

a/n: ughh when is it fall again? i need itttttt

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby

[flemingsfreckles]

I’ll Look After You

Synopsis: you and Jessie are still adjusting to life with a baby, Jessie notices that you’ve been struggling more and more recently, until you break.

Warnings: mentions of postpartum depression and anxiety, language

WC: 2.7k

A/N: hi, I haven’t posted in a while, just sort of been struggling, work has kicked my ass, and my motivation has just drained a bit but I’m trying to get back into it.

The first noise Jessie hears after the jingling of her keys in the sound of crying. It’s not an uncommon noise in your household, it’s an everyday, every couple of hours occurrence. But what she notices is the crying isn’t just that of your five month old daughter. She can also tell there’s the sound of an adult crying.

She quickly places the diapers and bag of baby clothes she had purchased on the counter and makes her way to your daughter's room.

She walks into the nursery to a scene that breaks her heart. You’re sitting in the rocking chair, your daughter resting in your lap. You’re both crying, your daughter wailing while you’re sniffling, shoulders shaking while you still try to console the baby in your lap. You looked exhausted.

“Oh my love.” Jessie says rushing to your side. “Let me take her.”

“No!” You snap at Jessie. “She won’t eat, but she’s hungry, that’s her hungry cry. She won’t latch, I can’t help her, but she needs to eat so she needs me.”

Jessie kneels in front of you. Her hands reach out to take your daughter. Already feeling panicked from the hours of crying you’ve sat through and the feeling of failure as a parent, you push Jessie’s hands away. You had been dealing with postpartum anxiety, you knew it and Jessie knew it.

It had started with just not letting your daughter out of your sight. She came with you everywhere, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, she was always just a few steps away, in every moment you had your eyes on her. Even as she slept you watched her though the baby monitor, hardly ever getting rest yourself. That lasted a for the first few months and then it only became worse.

Then you started having nightmares of terrible things happening to her. That’s when you started not letting her out of your grasp. You no longer brought her out to Jessie’s games. You didn’t let family or friends hold her, everything was a threat to her. You held her constantly, feeling as if any place besides your arms was dangerous to her little life.

This even meant Jessie’s arms. You knew deep down Jessie was safe, she was even more cautious than you were with her, but your anxiety refused to let up when it came to your wife. Any time the baby awoke in the middle of the night, you were up too. Despite Jessie’s insisting you stay in bed, being the first one out of bed to get your daughter, as she’d get up, you’d follow her. You watched Jessie like a hawk when she held your daughter, terrified something would happen. It was all crazy, Jessie was the best partner and parent you could’ve ever imagined but your postpartum brain remained in panic at all times.

“What if she just never eats? She’ll starve, it’ll be all my fault. I just want to help her.” You managed to choke out between cried. Jessie could see the dark circles under you eyes, she knew you hadn’t slept that night and now it was early morning, the exhaustion beginning to take its toll.

“She’s not going to starve babe.” Jessie tried her best to console you. She didn’t know what to do, she felt helpless so many times seeing you stress and worry about your daughter, knowing she could only ease your mind so much.

“She might Jessie! She won’t latch! I can’t fucking feed her. I’m a terrible mom, I can’t even feed her.” You move through anger, yelling at Jessie and your fist hitting the armrest of the rocking chair, to feelings of sadness in an instant, tears falling again.

“You’re not a terrible mom.”

“I can’t protect her. She’s always crying, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I can’t keep her safe.”

“You can keep her safe, you do keep her safe. She cries because she’s a baby, she can’t talk to us, her crying is not an indication of you as a parent.” Jessie’s hands gently caress your shins, trying to help you relax. “Now, can I please hold her?” Jessie brings her arms out again. She knew she had to be patient with you but she also knew you had hit your breaking point. Your lack of sleep, your mood swings, your frustrations, all worried her.

She knew you had been up all night with her. It had taken the two of you a while to get her to fall asleep, and just a short hour later she was up screaming again. You changed her and put her back down, before returning to bed. She had started crying at midnight and you had gone into the nursery, telling Jessie you’d wake her for the next time she cried. Except you hadn’t. You never came back to bed after that wake up. Jessie had heard the crying on her own and made her way into the nursery at 2am. You had sent her back to bed saying you had it covered. Jessie listened, knowing it was smarter and safer to have one rested parent, she also wasn’t interested in making you upset.

Then when Jessie woke up again and noticed you were not next to her, she came to find you. At 4am she found you asleep on the floor next to the crib. She had placed a blanket over you and let you sleep while she made herself coffee. The baby had woken up again at 4:30 and you had been up with her since. Jessie had run to the store to get some necessities, hoping when she got back the two of you would be sleeping again. You had now been awake all night, with only a combined hour of sleep worth of naps to hold you over. Jessie knew she had to take your daughter away from you, you needed sleep. She wanted you safe and she wanted your daughter safe.

You just stare back at Jessie. This was your wife, you trusted her with every bit of yourself, your fears, your accomplishments, you trusted her with your body, with your heart, but for some reason you were terrified to hand her your daughter, the baby she had a hand in making, the baby that was half her, you couldn’t hand her over.

“Babe.” Jessie’s tone was no longer asking politely. “For her safety and more importantly, for your safety, I need you to let me hold her for a bit, you need a break.” Her arms extend once again. She had realized this was getting out of hand, not only did she need to take your daughter in this moment, it was probably time to seek professional help. Jessie made a note to bring that up later with you.

“I don’t need a break, I don’t get a break, I'm her mom!”

“I’m her mom too!” Jessie getting more and more concerned about your own safety starts to snap at you.

Jessie was right, she was her mom too. You look down at your daughter, who is still whimpering. You look at her small face, her little nose, the way her eyes were scrunched and her mouth open crying. It had you tearing up again, seeing how upset she was with no relief thanks to you.

“I couldn’t help her, I changed her, she’s warm enough, she’s burped, I checked her over a hundred times, there's no scrapes or rashes, nothing should bother her. She just is hungry but won’t eat.” That’s when you start feeling your heartbeat in your chest, the whoosh of blood through your ears. You can feel your chest heaving as you try breathing in air.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jessie’s hands come off your shins and onto your face.

“You’re okay. She’s okay, look at her she’s okay. You’re both okay. I’m going to take her just for a moment, I’ll stay here by you so you can watch. But I’m just going to hold her for a bit.” Jessie drops her hands from your face and gently scoops up your daughter, bringing her to rest on her chest. Your daughter’s head rests on Jessie’s shoulder. Jessie stands up and bounces her lightly, hand running down your daughter’s back trying to soothe the crying.

Jessie extends her other hand out toward you. “Come here, let’s go lay in our bed.”

You look up at Jessie and nod, taking her hand before dropping it. “Two hands on her.” You say, already worrying somehow your daughter will slip from Jessie’s strong grip.

“Okay, two hands.” Jessie shoots you a smile before placing her other hand onto your daughter's back. She follows you out of the nursery across the house and into your bedroom. You watch Jessie as she carefully places her into the bassinet next to the bed.

“There’s nothing in there right? No toys, no blanket, no pillows? Did you check that there isn’t a spider or anything?” It was your paranoia coming back, but you had to ask.

“No babe, just her. There’s nothing that’s going to hurt her in there.” Jessie says looking between you and the bassinet. “She’ll be okay, I’m going to pick her up again in a moment. Let’s get you changed first.”

Jessie took another glance at the bassinet before coming over to where you stood at the end of the bed. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders. “Would you like a shower?” You shake your head, you did but you didn’t have the energy. “New clothes at least? Brush your teeth? Wash your face? What can I help with?”

“I dunno.” You feel on the verge of even more tears, you’d think by now you’d be completely dry. You feel your lip start to tremble again and you bite it trying to hold back the sob ready to fall out.

“Okay, sorry, I gave you too many options. Let’s just get you changed.” Jessie says her hand gently falling to your shirt. “Can I take this one off?” You nod and lift your arms, Jessie gently pulling the shirt over your head. You stand there shirtless as Jessie walks across the room to her own dresser, pulling out one of her old shirts that you frequently stole and would wear to bed. On your way back to where you stood your daughter lets out a cry. You watch as Jessie quickly moves to grab a clean pacifier, placing it into her mouth before coming back over to you.

“Arms up pretty girl.” You do as she asks and she pulls the shirt down over your head. Her hands drop to the shorts you have on. “These off?”

“Ehh she didn’t puke on them, they can stay.” You say. And Jessie’s hands move off of them.

“Okay, in bed.” Jessie walks over flipping back the cover to your side and waiting for you to get in. You climb in and she gently pulls up the covers before walking around to the other side of the bed. She picks up your daughter from the bassinet before she climbs into bed next to you. “Come here.” She pats her side and encourages you to curl into her.

You watch as she holds your daughter, you watch carefully, making sure your daughter's head is supported, her back is in a good position, you watch Jessie, who’s looking between you and your daughter.

“Close your eyes, I’ve got her, she’s okay, if she cries you’ll hear her and wake up.” You lay there for a moment, Jessie was right, she was right next to you, if she cried you’d hear. You’d be able to get up and help in a second's notice. You take one last look at Jessie and your daughter before closing your eyes.

You’re not sure how much time passes when you finally wake up to the sound of your wife talking to your daughter. “Here ya go. This’ll make you feel better.” You blink a few times and see Jessie with your daughter, a bottle in her hand being held up to her mouth.

Your eyebrows squint as you try to take in the image of your daughter eating from a bottle. That was different, it was rare that she ate from a bottle especially when you were home with her, you’d wake up and feed her, there was no need for her to feed from the bottle. It made you upset that Jessie hadn’t woken you, maybe she didn’t trust you to feed her since you had failed earlier. Maybe she thought you were a bad mother.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You feel Jessie jump, not having realized you were awake and being startled by your voice. “I don’t want her to have formula yet, we talked about it this.” You had been strong in your decision to feed her, Jessie knew that. Bottle feeding her was one thing, but you hadn’t pumped, there wasn’t milk for the bottle, Jessie had to be giving her formula. “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve fed her.”

You move to sit up, starting to pull your shirt up and reaching for your daughter at the same time. Jessie’s hand gently releases the bottle for a moment before her hand comes down onto yours.

“You are feeding her. It’s not formula, it’s your milk from the freezer. You’re still feeding her.” Jessie says looking at you, her hand returning to hold the bottle to your daughter’s mouth.

“Oh.” You feel stupid, you had frozen milk. Frozen milk you had pumped and saved back when your daughter was first born. She didn’t yet eat enough to use it all, so you had saved it. As she grew she drank more and more and you stopped freezing it. You had completely forgotten. You had forgotten, Jessie hadn’t.

“Go back to sleep love, I’ve got her, well, actually you’ve got her, you’re the one feeding her, I’m just holding the bottle.” Jessie smiles down at you, bringing a hand to run her fingers through your hair. “Close your eyes.”

You feel a sudden rush of emotions again, feeling overwhelmed by the kindness of your wife, who you had been cold to since the anxiety started. “I’m sorry.” You can feel your chest tightening and your vision becomes blurry with tears.

“For what?” Jessie looks down questioning what you could possibly be apologizing for.

“Just everything, I’ve been so mean, and I just, I worry and I can’t let her go, if something happened to her, I don’t think I’d survive. I’m so scared for her, she’s helpless, and I’m her mom so that’s my job and I think sometimes I forget you’re her mom too, and I don’t want to burden you with the responsibility, and I just, I’m not being fair to you.”

“You’re also not being fair to yourself. You’re tired, you’re overwhelmed, I don’t like seeing you like this.

“I know I just can’t help it.” You blinked hard and the tears began to run down your cheeks, Jessie’s finger gently wiping them away.

“I know, it’s not your fault. We’ll talk about this later, just get some sleep honey.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, trying to slow down the crying. “I’m sorry, I love you, you’re a really good mom.”

“Shhhh.” Jessie lets her fingers run through your hair again, trying to soothe you back to sleep. She doesn’t need to hear you apologize for something that was beyond your control, she knew it was all hormones, your brain playing tricks on you. She knows she’s a good mom, she knows you’re a good mom, she doesn’t need your reassurance but it is nice to hear. “I love you. I’ll look after you and her. I’ve got you. Just close your eyes.”

You do, quickly falling asleep with the feeling of Jessie’s fingers in your hair and the sound of her whispering softly to your daughter about the first time you and she met, one of Jessie’s favorite stories to tell. The anxiety and stress wasn’t gone, but for once, with her by your side, it suddenly wasn’t all consuming.

[hhughes]

I loved your post on napper Jack. But I never see anything about Quinn being a napper as well. As someone who is a serious napper, like falls asleep on the floor kind of napper. Can you write something about Quinn dating someone who is more of a napper then him and how he reacts to it.

It’s not that Quinn doesn’t like naps. In fact he’d love nothing more than to close his eyes in the afternoon and get a good twenty minutes of rest , but since he’s joined the league and moved to a new country by himself it’s as if he hasn’t really gotten any time to have the luxury of naps.

And even when he does it’s as if he can’t switch off his mind and settle his body enough to slip into that blissful state. He’s constantly thinking – stressing about something. What’s he eating for dinner tonight, when’s he gonna do laundry, what day and time is he gonna call his family where their schedules all line up to talk for more than a rushed ten minute phone call.

Since he’s become captain that state of constant stress has only increased ten fold. Now he’s not only worrying about his own problems but also half the team’s. As their teammate and friend Quinn would’ve taken it upon himself to worry about them anyway, but since he’s been bestowed with his new title there’s an extra sense of responsibility to make sure everyone is okay all the time.

Quinn doesn’t mind it of course, he’s always thrived under pressure and he’s honoured to be a leader , there’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t feel proud or grateful that the organization trusted him to lead his team. But that doesn’t mean that it all doesn’t get a bit much sometimes , and he doesn’t know if he can handle it all that well , until he meets you. . .

Quinn was sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing but switch his position every now and then so he doesn’t get sore, and flip through things to watch. A rare sight these days , an early afternoon off where he just gets to do nothing , and he was gonna take full advantage. He decided to order take out and was in the midst of ordering your usual when you suddenly burst through the front door , not saying anything while you kick off your shoes and shed your layers you put on to protect yourself from the cold in the Vancouver air.

All Quinn can do is watch in affectionate amusement as you scuffle your way towards him in your fuzzy white socks , climbing onto his lap , a leg on either side of his hips and burrowing your cold nose in the warmth of his neck. He rubs his palm on your lower back a few times, kissing the top of your head and feels all the tension in your body melt away.

“hi honey, how was your day?” you mumble against his skin, leaving a few kisses against his neck before pulling back a bit to meet his eyes

“so much better now that you’re here. how was your day baby?” he asks, sending you a soft smile , one you can’t help but mirroring , leaning forward and giving him a gentle peck

“very busy , I’m exhausted , I could fall asleep standing up,” you joke but Quinn frowns slightly, running his thumb over the dark circles under your eyes

“I’m ordering dinner , getting your usual , that okay?” he asks and you nod, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips in thanks

“want me to run you a bath?” he asks, his hands moving to your shoulders and he starts massaging the knots there

“in a bit , and only if you join me,” you say, laying your head on his chest, perfectly tucked under his chin and Quinn grabs his phone before he wraps his arms tightly around your waist , finishing the food order he was busy placing minutes earlier.

Quinn can’t help the soft laugh that escapes his lips when he hears you snore lightly a few minutes later. You weren’t kidding about falling asleep standing up , and he knows it’s not just when you’re tired. You could fall asleep anywhere, but it almost always happened instantly when you were snuggled in his arms like you were now.

He presses a quick kiss to your temple, tightening his arms around you further before laying his head back against the couch, not having any intention of falling asleep but his eyes can’t help but slip closed. your soft puffs of breath a lullaby in his ear, and your familiar scent in his nose calming him.

Both of you startle awake a while later when there’s a knock on the door for the food delivery and Quinn presses a messy kiss to your cheek before getting up and going to grab it. Naps like those have been frequent since he started dating you and now he couldn’t imagine his life without them. Or you. . .

[chakkll]

Worries, Worries

Mike Schmidt x gender neutral!reader

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy’s

Synopsis: Mike’s been doing better. He hasn’t dreamed of his brother since Freddy’s and hasn’t needed sleeping pills for almost a week now. Well, at least he thought he was doing better.

Warnings: Post movie, established relationship, fluff

Word count: 1k

*please forgive how short and probably rusty it is, it’s been a minute since i’ve posted!

Everything’s been good. One might say almost too good.

Mike has been sleeping well, been happier, and been getting along with his sister better, all because of what happened at Freddy’s.

But all this goodness is making Mike nervous. You can feel it.

“You sure you don’t want me to tuck you in?” You call after Abby as she shuffles down the hall, her drawings and crayons tucked into her arm.

A soft “yeah” is all you get in return before you hear Abby’s door shut. You smile to yourself before glancing to the clock.

9:32pm. Mike will be home soon.

Mike asking you to watch over his little sister in the evenings has become part of your schedule. He has Fridays and Saturdays off, but other than that, you’re cooking Abby’s dinner and making sure she gets some sleep, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Some might think it an inconvenience to constantly watch over your boyfriend’s little sister and end up seeing her more than him, but you adore Abby.

Sure, she might not talk very much, but she’s a very creative girl. It’s hard not to like her.

When Mike first introduced you to each other, Abby ignored your greetings and went right back to her room to draw. At first, you were pretty sad about her initial reaction to you and Mike’s relationship, but Mike managed to convince you that her reaction was a positive one.

That was five months ago.

Now, Abby draws next to you instead of in her room and will answer questions about the drawings. Plus, if you catch her in the right mood, she’ll tell you about her friends.

You yawn as you flick through the TV channels until you land on a documentary about seals. You glance to the clock.

9:46pm. Mike will be home soon.

Your eyes drift from the clock to the floor. A rather beaten up book lays half open, a ripped page on display.

You heave yourself off the couch and over to the book. You carefully pick it up and close it to see the cover.

Dream Theory. Interesting.

You flip to the back to read the blurb while walking back to the sofa.

You flop back onto the couch and flip to the first page. The seal documentary plays in the background, the narrator now detailing the wonders of how they hunt.

You prop your head up on the armrest and lay down, reading through the book.

Just as you’re getting invested in the book, you hear the lock unlock. Turning the TV off with a click, you turn around, only to be met with the sight of your exhausted boyfriend. You smile.

“Hey,” You greet as you get up and off the couch to meet him at the door.

Mike nods and grunts a small “Hey, baby.”

“How was work?”

Mike shrugs, and his gaze drifts down to the book in your hand. He blinks.

“You’re reading my book?” He asks curiously, causing you to glance to the book.

“Oh… yeah. Sorry.” You apologize bashfully and hand him the book, resting your other arm at your side.

Mike shakes his head dismissively at your apology. “What d’you think?”

You stare at him blankly. “…What?”

“The book. What do you think of the book? The theory?”

Realization dawns on you. When you see an eager glint in Mike’s eyes, you weakly shrug.

“I mean… I’m not too far in, but it seems interesting.”

A hint of a smile graces Mike’s lips. “So it seems possible.” You nod.

You smile softly at his excitement from your words.

“Anyways…” You wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. “How was work?” You ask again.

His arms loosely wrap around your waist as he buries his head into your neck. “Fine,” He murmurs quietly. “How’s Abby? Did she eat dinner?”

You smile at his worry for his sister. “Yeah. And she drew next to me afterwords.” At your words, you can feel Mike relax.

“She’s been doing better. You’ve been doing better. I can tell.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“I don’t know about that.” He murmurs dismissively into your shoulder.

You blink, frowning at his words. “What makes you say that? You haven’t dreamt of Garrett since Freddy’s, right?” You pull away from the hug and rest your hands on his shoulders. His hands come to rest on your hips as he sighs softly.

“Well, no…”

“So why do you say that?” You frown softly, bringing a hand to cup his face.

“Just… things have been going smoothly. Almost—almost too smoothly.” Mike mumbles, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter closed.

You sigh again. “Mike… look at me,” He reluctantly opens his eyes, but his gaze rests on your chin instead of your eyes.

“You’re okay. You have a new job that has pretty okay pay and hours, both Abby and you are happier, and you know what happened to Garrett. Right?”

Mike stubbornly stares at your chin, staying silent.

“So why do you say that, baby?”

“I just…” Mike trails off. “…I’m used to having something to worry about.”

You frown. “What, and there’s nothing to worry about now?”

Mike blinks and slowly looks to your eyes. “…Huh?”

“I don’t mean to make you feel worse, but you still have things to worry about.”

You can see panic rise in Mike’s eyes. “What… what do I have to worry about?”

You smile fondly at your boyfriend.

“You gotta think of a present for me for our six-month anniversary.”

You can practically see the gears turning in the man’s head as he stares at you quizzically. Finally, he cracks a smile.

“…Weird way to comfort me.” He looks away, smiling to himself.

“Yeah, but what else would get you to smile?” Mike rolls his eyes, causing you to chuckle. Your gaze drifts to the kitchen, reminding you that Mike almost never has dinner when he works evenings.

“You didn’t have dinner, right? I’ll make you something.” You start to head to his kitchen to quickly make him something to eat.

“…Wait.” Mike murmurs softly, lightly grabbing your sleeve.

You turn to him curiously, only to see a slightly bashful Mike staring at the floor.

“…Sleep here tonight?”

You can feel yourself smiling. “Of course.”

Mike’s shoulders visibly relax.

“Now, let’s get you something to eat.”

[ithaquasbbg]

Hii could I request ithawua with a sick s/o?

Hell yeah 😈 as my username suggests, I love some Ithaqua

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Ithaqua | Night Watch with a sick s/o

Pairing : Ithaqua x reader

Tw : none

Notes : meow

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|❄️| Ithaqua can be quite a mixed bag when it comes to sickness, primarily depending on how badly you’re sick and how he’s doing mentally at the time. Sometimes he can be quite calm about it, while others he can stress himself out about your health to the point of becoming sick himself.

|❄️| He’s really good at taking care of you while you’re sick, mimicking some things his mother did for him when he was young and doing them for you.

|❄️| Ithaqua will make sure you rest. He will keep you from going to your matches and even take the penalties for it if it means you’re able to recover. Hell, if he could keep you from leaving your bed until you were better, he probably would!

|❄️| His heightened amount of concern for you stems from a fear of losing another person close to him. After his mother, he is practically unable to stand the thought of losing you as well. Because of this, you’ll notice things like his hands shaking every so often and the way he doesn’t sleep in order to make sure you’re doing alright throughout the night, even if he’s relatively “calm” about you being sick. A lot of it is subconscious though, and he won’t even realize he had been that concerned about your condition until he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding after you recover.

|❄️| He’s not necessarily the best cook in the world (Ithaqua can make edible food, but it doesn’t really taste delicious), but he will try his hardest to make some of his mothers soups for you and bring them to you so you don’t need to get out of bed.

|❄️| He is quite stubborn about asking for help, but if he does incredibly badly, he’ll swallow his pride (or lack thereof) and enlist another person in the manor to help him make the soup the next time.

|❄️| He wouldn’t want to ask for anyone’s help primarily because of his lack of trust in the others at the manor. If it was truly needed, he would ask for help, but much like how he is when it comes to cooking, he’d be incredibly reluctant to do so.

|❄️| After you recover, he’ll watch over you for a while to make sure you’re feeling alright (he watches over you constantly anyways, but now he at least has an excuse).

.

You look up at Ithaqua as he holds one of his hands to your forehead, noticing a little tremor in it as he pulls away. “You’re still running a fever, (name).” He frowns and gently nudges you to lay back down, much to your displeasure. “I have matches today, Ithaqua, I can’t lay in my bed all day.”

“(Name). I’m not letting you get out of bed while you’re sick.” Ithaqua looks concerned as he looks down at you, it had been three days since you had gotten sick and you had noticed his exhaustion growing due to the fact he hadn’t slept more than an hour since then. “I’ll lay down.” You start, “but only if you promise to rest as well, you need sleep too.”

He frowns, trying to hold back a scoff at the idea of allowing himself to rest while you were sick, but eventually gets under the covers next to you, resting his head on your chest as a way to listen to your heartbeat. Not long after, you hear light snoring coming from the blonde “Ithaqua?” You nudge him, realizing he had passed out while listening to your heartbeat.

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It’s been SO long since I wrote on here but hi!!!!!!! I chose this prompt because it felt like a good way to get myself back up and running

Also, thank you so much for the support on some of my posts!!

This is INSANE 😭😭 j never thought people would like my writing so much, thank you!!!!