#trying to get the smaller tasks out the way so i can get to work on fixing the outside of the house

[maggot-baggage]

Ok im normal now. Anyway real proud of myself rn all the plants are doin really good, finally moved that garbage rug out of the yard n cleaned up out there and FINALLY finished pruning the bushes so i can actually walk past them. Fingers crossed that ill have the composter free of hornets, lawn mower fixed, and the deep freezer dumped/cleaned soon👍🏿

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

it's probably the sunnier weather that's doing stuff to my brain to make me more optimistic but it's so interesting having a brain that craves a lot of self-fulfillment to the point where I can move past some hang-ups around perfection by going "oh I really wanna do that though" and then I do it well because researching how to do it right is also a rewarding part of the process

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

[pathologicalreid]

blue ribbon | s.r.

in which you and Spencer dedicate yourselves to helping your daughter with the best baking soda volcano the science fair has ever seen

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: chemist!reader, misuse of lab equipment i don't care, their daughter is very girly, glitter word count: 1.46k a/n: ending the post margotober drought with the very first margovember request!!! i promise i'm working on masterlists but for some reason they're exhausting.

“Why do I have to walk backward?” You grumble while trying to balance the end of the plywood on your knee, pulling at your badge reel to unlock the lab door.

Spencer nods his head in the direction of the keypad, “That would be why.”

Rolling your eyes, you push the door handle down with your elbow before pushing the door open with your foot, shuffling your feet. “Honey, can you turn the lights on?”

Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, your daughter flips all of the switches on the panel, cringing at the bright fluorescent lights.

Together, you and Spencer hoist the science project onto one of the lab tables, careful not to knock anything over as the papier-mâché volcano rests in your professional lab.

You and Leah had stayed up until eleven last night finishing the last coat of paint, even entertaining a visit from her Aunt Penelope so that the finished project could have a fine dusting of glitter all over it. Your dining room was now permanently sparkly, but the look on your daughter’s face when she saw the finished project made the mess entirely worth it.

Spencer steps to grab your jugs of white vinegar from the car, propping the door open so he can bring the supplies for the baking soda volcano in.

Obviously, you weren’t going to use the full-size volcano now, but Leah had refused to travel without it and Spencer believes that saying no to her is an impossible task. “Mommy?” The little girl pipes up, playing with the stirring rod that you had just set in front of her.

“What’s up?” You ask, leaning your hip against the counter, gently reaching out and adjusting the bows adorning her pigtails that you’d put in her hair that morning.

She looks over at the wall, minding each of the posters that line your laboratory, “What is that?”

You follow her finger to see what she’s pointing at, smiling softly, “It’s the periodic table.”

Humming thoughtfully, Leah sets the stirring rod down and walks over to the poster, “It looks like the one at home.”

Nodding, you get a step stool out for her to stand on, “They’re the same poster, the one we have at home is just a lot smaller than the one I keep at work.” You explain to her, knowing she’s talking about the poster you keep in your home office. “Come on baby, let’s go get you a lab coat.”

Setting a hand on her shoulder, you guide her to the storeroom, “Woah,” she breathes. It’s not a positive reaction, her eyes flitter all around the room, a mess of lab coats and goggles.

“Okay,” you say, shoving your way through the space until you find your locker, pulling out your lab coat, as well as safety glasses for the whole family. Holding a coat up to her and having her pull it on, you put your own lab coat on before looking back to find your five-year-old drowning in polyester. Laughing slightly, you adjust the lapels of her jacket, “How does it feel?”

Leah looks down at herself, “Cool!” She exclaims beaming up at you and giving you two thumbs up. She skips out of the closet and heads back to her volcano, almost tripping over the extra fabric of the lab coat, but Spencer grabs her arm before her knees can hit the linoleum.

He smiles at her, “Are you okay?” Helping her adjust her coat, he kneels down to her.

“Daddy,” she cheers, completely ignoring his question for the sake of being five years old, “Look at my coat!”

Smoothing her hair back, Spencer’s eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back to Leah, “You look like mommy.”

In a fit of giggles, he scoops her up in his arms in an attempt to avoid a tripping hazard, but she just thinks it’s fun. He sets her down feet-first on the step stool you had gotten out for her.

“Here,” you say, handing him a lab coat for him to wear and setting the safety goggles you’d gathered on the countertop.

When your daughter came home in tears because she felt like she had been assigned the ‘most boringest’ project for the science fair, you and Spencer quickly decided that you’d try everything to make her baking soda volcano exciting. At the very least, you’d work together to make sure she has fun.

Leah puts her goggles on and looks up at you for her next instruction, watching you divide the baking soda and white vinegar into separate beakers, “So, what will happen when we add these two together?” Spencer quizzes, watching you make careful portions.

“It’s gonna fizz up!” She responds correctly, bouncing on her feet while you gently push the first two dishes in front of her.

You nod, “You can pour the white vinegar into the baking soda,” You nudge her gently, knowing that you measured just enough to reach the top of the beaker, but not enough to flow onto the counter.

She uses both hands to grip the beaker and pour the liquid out, and the immediate reaction surprises her so much that Spencer holds an arm out to keep her upright. He trains his eyes on her amazement as the foam dissipates and the water and sodium acetate are left in the glass. “Can I drink it?” She asks, frowning up at her dad.

“No,” you both answer immediately, a sort of parental reflex. If you don’t answer quickly enough, odds are she’d pick it up and try anyway.

Disappointed, her frown remains on her face while her eyes return to the countertop, timidly, she tugs on Spencer’s lab coat, prompting him to crouch down to her eye level, “What’s wrong, lovey?”

Her eyes nervously look around the lab, eyeing some of the cabinets before she takes a deep breath, “Can we make it pink?”

“The foam?” Spencer says curiously, eyes flickering up at you while you nod frantically, already thinking up options so that you could further individualize your daughter’s glitter volcano.

She rocks back and forth, “Can we?”

As soon as Spencer says yes, it’s like a hold on you has been released, unlocking some of the cabinets so you can grab more supplies from around the lab, you return to the station with an armful of things to try, and Spencer mutters something to Leah about you being a mad scientist, leading you to maturely stick your tongue out at him.

You set up four options, taking photos as you go so you can paste them onto her presentation board. The first one is just baking soda, but you added a touch of dish soap to the vinegar. The increase in bubbles seems to greatly please Leah, so you decide as a team that the final product should have dish soap in it.

The second one has manganese sulfate mixed into the baking soda, and if the pink salt altered the color of the foam at all, it doesn’t impress your perfectionist daughter.

The third one includes phenolphthalein, which you think has some real potential, based on the way Leah’s eyes widen at the sight of it combined with the vinegar. The liquid was almost a fuchsia color, and she gasps when she pours it in to find that the foam is white, “It’s gone?”

You nod, “The phenolphthalein when it’s in the vinegar is pink because it’s an acid, but as soon as you add the baking soda it becomes a basic solution, so…” Your voice trails off when Spencer starts shaking his head, and you look down to find that you have completely lost Leah’s attention. Instead of listening, she’s trying to pronounce phenolphthalein, tracing the letters on the black countertop.

“What do you have next?” Spencer asks, eyeing the tiny dropper bottle in front of you.

Picking it up, you drop some of it into the vinegar and hand it to Leah, “It’s food coloring.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Why do you have food coloring in the lab?”

You wrinkle your nose at him, the expression makes Leah giggle, “Mind your business.”

As a family, you watch the chemical reaction, the white of the foam mixing with the red food coloring to create the desired pink lava. “Oh,” your daughter says softly, “Thank you, mommy!”

Beaming down at her, you place your hands on your hips and sigh, “If you’d like, we can add glitter to the baking soda too.”

Wide eyes look up at you in amazement, brown eyes inherited from her father, “I love science,” she whispers.

Behind her back, you hold your hand out for Spencer, exchanging a silent fist bump—a quiet celebration between two scientists.

[shrimpybbq]

season 4 pt2 with rafe, his wife and their kids

sarah who comes over to see rafe, only to be met at the door by high school gf-turned wifey, little charlie tangled between her legs as he peeks up at the unexpected guest

charlie’s eyes brighten as he lets out a squeal of “Aunty Sarah!” before suddenly throwing himself against her, giggling as sarah picks him up and cuddles him. she missed her nephew so much, and she had only managed to meet emmy once, so she’s pleased to see the kids even if it’s alongside another less pleasant task

high school gf had been walking down the main road in kildare when she stumbled across sarah and john b a few months back, charlie holding his mother’s hand as she carried a smaller emmy in a chest wrap. the estranged family had sat together at a cafe as she took a sleeping emmy out of the wrap, allowing sarah to hold her niece for the first time.

“She’s so little - so perfect,” Sarah had whispered, eyes fixated on the little human before her, “I can’t believe she came from my brother.”

The older girl laughed at Sarah, before looking at her sadly. “He wants to reconnect with you, Sar. He’s just scared.”

“I just don’t think I’m ready for that. To be honest, I don’t know if I ever will,” Sarah admitted. She had watched as her sister-in-law sighed, before wrapping her in a side hug.

“I know, and I don’t blame you. What he did wasn’t right. But he regrets it, and you should at least know that. He feels bad about it every single day,” high school gf stated.

high school gf brings sarah out to the balcony, only for them to see emmy resting on rafe’s lap as he works. she knows rafe needs to be alone when he talks to his sister so she gently takes her from him, but not before placing a quick kiss on his lips,

“You can do this, baby. Just be calm.”

when sarah waves to the baby at the property hearing, it’s 100% high school gf and emmy. rafe had no interest in attending the hearing, but his wife wanted to go and support his sister so she attended

when sarah finds out she’s pregnant, she feels like she truly understands high school gf more. sarah was so scared to be pregnant and to be a mom, and yet high school gf was even younger when she got pregnant (and she had a drugged up rafe as a boyfriend). she thinks about how alone her sister-in-law must have felt and her heart hurts for her

high school gf gets a text from sarah one evening and the next day, the younger girl is secretly around at the cameron house again. rafe was out on business but the two women talk, with sarah getting advice on what to do and how to tell john b. she ends up crying into her sister-in-law’s chest, scared but knowing she wouldn’t be alone (she gets the best, most rational advice ever too, something she knows is a skill developed from living with rafe)

rafe’s already proposed, so before he leaves he’s having a heartfelt goodbye with his wife

“I’m just gonna be gone for a little while, ok baby? Groff screwed me and we need that money to set us up, set the kids up. A few weeks tops. And I’m gonna call as much as I can once I get to Morocco, so make sure you keep your phone on you, ok?”

“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

“You know it. I ain’t gon’ do shit that could keep me away from you, you know that. And look, if you really need help while I’m gone, you know you can call Barry,” Rafe said.

“Barry is the absolute last resort,” she mumbled back, “but ok.”

Rafe leaned in and placed a heady kiss against her lips before wrapping her in his embrace. He inhaled deeply, committing to memory the scent of her perfume and the shampoo she used.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

when rafe is locked in the room on the ship just stewing over the events that led to his temporary imprisonment, he’s so angry. he grows angrier when he thinks about leaving his family to try and do something nice only to end up this way

he totally says to sarah that high school gf wouldn’t approve of the way she’s treating him, trying to guilt her to letting him go (she just rolls her eyes and walks out)

when he finds out about sarah’s pregnancy, he’s thinking of his family. the one he lost and the one he built. he wants his sister back in his life, and he wants to know his niece or nephew, the same way she got to know charlie - he’s just so hurt and misguided still

oh you know he’s trying to be helpful and bond with sarah again by giving pregnancy tips - everyone is shocked until they remember that he has a family

“You need to drink some ginger or peppermint tea. It’ll help balance out the acids in your stomach. Chuck a cracker or two in there as well.”

The pogues turned to look at Rafe curiously. He froze as all eyes landed on him.

“I’ve got kids, alright? I’ve dealt with this shit before - you think you’re the first pregnant woman to feel sick?”

he’s in essaouira when he first calls home, his wife so relieved to hear from him. he doesn’t have a lot of time so he promises to speak to his kids later, but for now he needs help finding groff. rafe doesn’t end the call without saying i love you though, no matter how rushed he is

sarah casually tells rafe that his wife knows of her pregnancy, and he just huffs and rolls his eyes. “Of course she does,” he grumbles

groff taunts rafe with his family when he’s stuck in the well - she hasn’t betrayed him yet, he mocks. the way he speaks about high school gf is vile, insinuating she’s a gold digger and only wants him for his name. he even resorts to suggesting she will run away with their children, leaving him alone (which is actually a deep seated fear of rafe’s, though it’s lessened). unfortunately for groff, he failed to do any research on rafe and his wife, so his words don’t reach him in the intended way, rolling off of his shoulders. he knows his wife and he knows their past, now more comfortable in his relationship than ever before

during the rafe and sarah reunion, he’s so emotional and confused. even though he’s comfortable in his marriage, to him, sarah is the one person he thinks could turn his wife against him

“No, you’re just gonna screw me like everyone else in my life. I know you will- I- I know you will. I’ve only got one person left in this world who cares about me, and what- are you going to try take her too, huh?”

Sarah pleaded, “No, no- because I’m all you’ve got! And you’re the only real family I have left - you built your family and so did I, but we’re the only ones left from our old lives. I want us to be happy, and you know that she wants that too. I want us all to be together.”

rafe doesn’t manage to call home again until after the death of jj, but when he does, he’s so desperate to hear their voices - all of them. he’s just watched someone he thought was invincible die, and he just wants to know his family is safe. he uses up almost half of his phone battery on the call, but it’s worth it to him

rafe doesn’t know what the pogues are planning, but he’s adamant that he will support them. his only condition is that he will do so from kildare, refusing to be away from his family for any longer

honestly not a lot to work with for s4 part 2 but I’ve done my best so please enjoy a lot of rafe introspection

click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

ok, i know it’s not may any more, but could we please have more mer au. ghost preferably, i just want to shake him around in a bag like that one little girl from finding nemo.

hands you a carnival prize plastic bag with a goldfish-sized mer Ghost inside. feed him twice a day. plastic shipwreck not included. he might look lonely but don't let him convince you to put your fingers in the bowl :)

take the first half of this thing too:

36 / 1k / shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

Ghost doesn’t look back at you as you swim meekly after him. You have to whip your smaller tail twice as fast just to keep up, and you're getting winded already. He makes it look so easy to glide through the water.

"What now?" he mutters.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

“You’re thinking it.”

"I was just--" A huge yawn overtakes your reply. You sink in the water for a moment, scrunching your eyes closed, before huffing and darting after him again. "--Just going this way, too."

He knows you've been following behind him since dusk. You should’ve given up some time ago, but you never learn. He slows imperceptibly, just long enough for your catatonic ass to catch up, and then veers to the side so that you--rubbing your eyes with sleep--bump into him. You rest your hand against his tail instinctively and stick to him with the suction pads on your palm.

Satisfied having you in tow, he speeds back up. "You’re not a very good liar, sweetheart."

You mumble under your breath and hand-climb up his back until you're nestled between his shoulder blades instead.

Lazy little thing. Pain in his ass.

Despite grumbling, he does nothing to dislodge you from your spot. You seem to be having a difficult day, and he’s primed to make it worse. You’re the perfect target. When he has the energy--like now, at night--bullying you is his small pleasure of choice.

Then again, he can feel the way you’re pressing up against him, small and clingy and cute as hell. It takes all his willpower not to roll over and stow you against his chest instead.

You remain blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. You’re more concerned about the emptiness in your stomach.

"You're going hunting, right?" you mumble against his shoulder.

 “Trying to,” he says.

You’ve been tagging along on hunts for days, but you haven’t managed to snag any good scraps in a long while. But maybe tonight, when it’s just you and Ghost. "Mkay."

He keeps waiting for you to get in the way and then pout when he inevitably brushes you off. Instead, you’re silent. It’s bugging him.

Then, scanning the coral, he catches sight of a perfectly tasty-looking snapper. He puts your attitude out of his mind and instead tenses up to begin his hunt. You’re with him, so why worry. Watch and learn.

You peer past his shoulder curiously to see him work. His back muscles tense and shift as his eyes track every one of the fish’s movements. Then he bolts forward faster than the fish can dart away. It whips around in reflexive panic right as he snatches it in one fluid movement.

You watch over his shoulder as he kills it with a practical snap of the spine and begins to disassemble the creature piece by piece, eating the flesh and letting the bones and fins fall to the ocean floor below.

His focus is intense: attention trained on the task, his fingers work as precisely to strip flesh from bone as his jaw works on shredding the pieces of snapper he tears off into his mouth. The muscles in his shoulders ripple beneath your coiled-up body. As always, he moves with efficiency and a certain brutal grace, never wasting a single movement. It's the lethal behavior of a predator, yes, but falling into the repetitive, methodical habit seems to satisfy him.

You unfasten yourself from his back while he's absorbed in his task. The bones and bits of uneaten flesh sinking to seafloor have your interest. You swim after them.

“Don’t go far,” he warns after you. He’s not worried. There’s nowhere you could venture out here that he couldn’t find you within minutes.

You collect the scraps and eat what you can--mostly skin and fins, and they leave you feeling almost as hungry, but you're used to it. Ghost needs the food more than you do, anyway. You glide lazily over the sea floor to comb the sand with your fingers in hopes of finding another snack. Maybe a snail. A crab if you're lucky.

The search leads you to the edge of a long sandbar. It’s about a thousand minnow-lengths at its widest, and there are various shells and bits of debris scattered across the surface. You start to prowl the sandy floor for food, fingers stirring up soft sand into the water.

Ghost’s voice calls out somewhere behind you, but your exhausted brain isn't as reactive as it should be. If you could just find one or two more bites to eat, you think. You tug what looks like a crab carapace out of the sand, but it's just a strawberry-colored plastic bottle. You keep searching. Keep finding nothing of value. You come across a pile of barnacles, shards of coral, small rocks, a stray fishing lure you gnaw on just to be sure...

But no, nothing worth eating.

Your stomach rumbles again. You’re too tired and unfocused. Your movements are slow and clumsy, your senses dulled. You barely hear a sound until a hand comes down on your tail from behind and grabs you.

You jerk and dart away in surprise.

Your movement wrenches a sound from Ghost--a gruff huff of annoyance as he lunges after you. You're fast, but not fast enough. He catches your tail again immediately, dragging you back into his control.

"Idiot," he scolds. "I told you not to go far. If I had been a predator, you'd be dead meat right now."

You relax into his grip instantly. "Oh. Yeah."

He looks at you in that unamused way that says of course I was right. He looks you over with a critical eye. Your eyes are half-open and your muscles are slack. You must be exhausted.

He turns and heads for home with you still in hand. "Right, then."

You see what's happening and wriggle in his grip, hunger gnawing at you again. "Wait, aren't you hunting?"

"No." He's quick and harsh with his response. He doesn't appreciate unnecessary questions. "You're going home. Hunting can wait."

…

[part 1] / part 2

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[angrykittenvoid]

You owe me

Warnings: Lucifer being a perv, swearing, dirty talk, lots of sex

Summary: You want to make a pact with Lucifer but he wants something in return: your body.

He thinks you haven’t noticed his strange behaviours towards you, but you have. Staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking. His protective glare over you whenever you talk to one of his brothers. Or even when he’d put his hands on your waist to pass by you and his touch would linger a bit too long. Eventually he started holding your waist every time he’d pass by you even when it wasn’t necessary, and you swear you feel his cock rub against your ass every time.

He’s been wanting to feel you up for the longest time. Spending so many nights with his cock in his fist, moaning your name in ecstasy. Though imagining you under him screaming his name satisfied him enough to reach his climax, it just wasn’t enough. He needed you. The real you. And he wanted to make his fantasies of you a reality.

Lucifer was the last demon brother you needed to make a pact with but he’s been so hard to convince. One day you decide you’re done waiting for the right moment. You barge into his room to just come out and say it. “I want you to make a pact with me”, you say determinedly. Lucifer gets up from his chair and struts towards you with curiosity. “Why are you so adamant on making pacts with my brothers and I?” Of course you can’t tell him the real reason you want to make the pact, he’d be livid if he found out you’re trying to help Belphie escape the attic. “I’m in an entirely new world, I want to be as strong as possible.” You aren’t entirely lying, but you’re not telling the full truth either. Lucifer eyes you suspiciously as he walks closer.

“What’s in it for me?” The smirk on his face grows as a devious plan develops in his head. “What do you mean?” “Well if I’m gonna give you something without knowing your full intentions I might as well get something out of it.” He takes another step closer, making the small gap between you two even smaller.

“Fine, what do you want?” you say anxiously. “…I want to taste you”, he said with nothing but lust in his voice as he pinned you against the wall behind you. You’re now stuck between the wall and a very horny Lucifer towering over you. “I’ll make a pact with you if… I get to fuck you whenever I want for a month.” Your eyes widen in shock. Being a sex slave to a demon for a month?! You’re not sure you could even handle whatever sadistic, sexual tasks Lucifer had in store for you. As you eye him up you look a bit further down his body, noticing his already hard cock making a tent in his pants. Lucifer notices your staring and decides to rub his cock against your pussy. You let out a loud whine. “So what do you say? Wanna be my little play thing for a month?” What other choice do you have? You need to make this pact otherwise the work you put into making the other pacts would’ve all been for nothing. If this is the only way he’ll agree to a pact then so be it. You look up at him nervously and say “deal.” Lucifer has the most devilish grin on his face as he looks at his watch. “Well would you look at that. It’s midnight”, he says closing the gap between you two by kissing you roughly. He shoves his tongue passed your lips, dominating your mouth as he gropes your breast with one hand and your ass with the other.

“Our one month starts now.”

——

Lucifer takes full advantage of this opportunity by bending you over every chance he gets. You just woke up? Early morning, sloppy sex. You’re at school? He’s pulling you into the nearest storage closet. You’re chilling in your room? He’s pulling you into his room where you spend the night being his personal cum dump.

He puts you in every position he can think of. Missionary, downward dog, in front of a mirror, against the wall, and even in his office a couple times. In his right mind he’d be terrified if someone, especially Diavolo, walked in on you two in such an inappropriate position in his office, but he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight. All he wants is to feel you around his cock.

——

“L-Lucifer.” That’s the only coherent word you’re able to utter as Lucifer bullies your sensitive cunt. Besides your tired moans, the lewd sound of flesh smacking against flesh is all that can be heard within Lucifer’s bedroom. Earlier, he called your phone, all he said was “My room. Now” and hung up. And because of the deal you made, you couldn’t say no. Not like you’d want to anyway. You love the feeling of the hunky demon assorting his dominance over you and fucking your brains out every night. And now here you are, Lucifer slamming his hips into yours like his life depends on it. Hitting your sweet spot with every thrust as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

If only you could focus your eyes enough to see Lucifer right now, he’s a mess. Face sweaty, hair disheveled, and a string of drool rolling down his chin. “Fuck. You feel so damn good.” He grunts, leaning down to lay a rough kiss on your lips. His thrusts become sloppier as he gets closer to his climax. “Oh Lucifer- p-please make me cum.” Your desperate cries was all it took to push him off the edge, shooting hot streaks of cum straight into your womb. You follow suit as you come around his still hardened cock for what you think is the fifth time tonight.

“Oh baby, we’re only halfway done, remember? You’re still mine for the next 2 weeks. Actually I’m not sure I’ll be willing to let go by then. How about another few weeks? ’Nother few months? I just need to feel your sweet pussy for a bit longer. Damn, your fucked out face is getting me riled up again. You’re tired? Nah, you can handle one more round. Remember, you owe me”, he affirms as his thrusts start to speed up again.

This is gonna be a long night.

—————————————————————————

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 ✿

characters: jing yuan x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, bad attempt at humor, reader is immortal, established relationship, jing yuan being jealous, found family slightly in there, yanqing coming in at the wrong time pt19487288482877

notes: i have fed yall enough horny food. now its time for fluff food aka small dosage of serotonin. open wideeeee🚂🚂🚂

the constant noise of your irritated lover was something that you disregarded with little to no attention. you could feel it after all. that familiar feeling of your husband’s eyes boring into the back of your skull like the insanely heavy glaive he carries. it wasn’t exactly a common feeling to receive but on the moments that it happens, you could never forget the feeling.

you can just imagine it already. the pout pulling on the white haired man’s lips, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the impatient thumps of his feet rapidly hitting the floor as small sparks of lightning would float around him. of course, you can’t forget the iconic, “what about me?” puppy eyes he pulls.

“beloved” the deep baritone voice of jing yuan calls out, sounding way too serious for anyone’s comfort. if his soldiers that stand guard inside his office would still be around, they would be shivering in their armory from the sheer amount of unsettling feeling it brought. it wasn’t like that they have never seen their general angry or serious. it was just that, it rarely happens and so much fewer now since he was nearing his retirement.

turning around from what you were most greatly occupied with, you give him a few seconds of acknowledgment. finally, you were looking at him now. your eyes on him, the brightest stars he loved to gaze into even as the ever burning ones around him twinkles. you were always his favorite.

“jing yuan” you simply hum with a nod before turning back to what you were obsessing over. the loud dramatic gasp that comes from where your husband is barely fazes you, as you knew he was simply trying to get your attention. you knew your husband like the back of your hand and you knew for a fact that he wasn’t hurt as he shows himself to be.

“how dare you!” the man’s voice raises a bit, the sound of his steps sounding heavier than usual as he finally comes behind you to sweep you up into his arms. you immediately let out a soft grunt, feeling his strong arms tighten around you possessively as he refuses to let you go. instead, he pulls your smaller form flush against himself, face buried into the crook of your neck with a "hmph!". such a big baby you were married to.

"jing yuan, let go of me" you say, not bothering to wiggle yourself out of his grasp since you knew it would be an impossible task. your husband can be dangerously clingy and possessive at times and this was definitely one of those times.

"nuh.." your husband immediately rebuttals, shaking his face and proceeding to nuzzle his face further into the crook of your neck. deeply inhaling your scent, you could see his broad shoulders visibly relax and slump to indicate that he was calming down from his earlier mini temper tantrum. the two of you stay like that for a while. you, held captive in his arms as your husband takes his time to cuddle you close to himself. as close as fleshly possible. not even single moment for something else to wedge between the two of you, not even the cool air of his office. if there were to be the smallest bit of distance between the two of you, he would be extremely deprived of his already dangerously low level of [name] affections.

you had been away to the xianzhou zhuming for a business trip. as one of the most accomplished merchant and the head of the trade association, sometimes your work required you to move back and forth between places, worlds and even galaxies. and this time was no different as your business partner of long time in the xianzhou zhuming had come to a stalemate in their business there due to the ipc's recent dabbling in the xianzhou alliance's trading business. it had dragged on way longer than what you would've liked which also translated to an extended period of time of not seeing your husband, your son and daughter all together. a time away that your clingy husband took very badly, even worse than your son and daughter.

but not for you, as the first thing you did upon coming back from the trip and stepping in through the large doors of his office was to head straight towards your daughter - mimi. the large lion was sulking quietly in his office ever since you went away for your business trip, constantly pawing at jing yuan's clothes and whining for your presence. and upon seeing your face, she immediately pounced in your direction, wasting no time as she pushed you down into the hologram showcasing the large starchess board as she licked all over your face. an act of affection that you returned with a hearty laugh and kisses to her adorable fluffy face. an act of affection that your husband was very very very jealous of.

he was supposed to be the one to tackle you down and pepper your face in kisses and in return have his face peppered in kisses in return! not mimi!

and yes, jing yuan was jealous over his own fluffy daughter stealing his spouse away from him. blatantly, unabashedly, without shame was jealous over. which led to now, in you being trapped in his inescapable hold. really, the galls of this man.

"mmrrp? mrreeow?" mimi meows, butting her head against jing yuan's legs to get his attention while also making it sound as if she wanted the attention back on her again. it was tough having not one but two needy lions scampering for your attention.

"mimi, you have already had enough of their attention. now it's my turn with my own spouse!" jing yuan chides the lion softly, making her let out an irritated huff. mimi wanted her parent's attention but jing yuan also wanted his spouse's attention. it was a tug of war between the two lions with you as their unfortunate victim.

after many back and forths between the two lions, jing yuan had decided he had enough and decided to swoop you off of your feet. quite literally. the smug bastard had kicked your legs under you, making you fall back into a dip with a startled gasp. giving you an "i told you so" look, your husband cups your cheek in the palm of his hand before leaning in to place a fluffy of kisses on your face. cheeks, the bridge of your nose, forehead, chin, eyelids, lips - nowhere was free from the mercy of his kisses and jing yuan was going to make the whole world be reminded that you two were happily married.

"general! i heard that [name]'s bac-EWWWW!!!" the sudden barging in of you two's son is what finally separates you from his barrage of kisses. turning to look at his son, jing yuan makes a shooing motion with his hand - momentarily letting go of you cheek in the process - with mimi.

"me and [name] are busy right now, yanqing. take mimi out for a walk for an hour or two" the white haired man says without an ounce of shame, your breathless self still in his hold. reluctantly, yanqing does as told, calling mimi to his side to leave you two lovebirds be for some time. but not without one final word of advice.

"wait until back home at least, you two!!" and with that, your son and daughter were gone, leaving you both behind to have at least a small dose of affection that the both of you were deprived off of. with an amused chuckle at his son's words, he shakes his head before turning to you with his resting cat face. pair of golden eyes crinkling as mirth and devotion dance in them while his lips pull upwards into the genuine smiles he permanently has on his face whenever you were in his line of sight. all jing yuan could do was thank the reignbow arbiter and every aeons out there for granting him to be able to live in the same time as you.

"how i am blessed to be with you, my most beloved"

[p0orbaby]

It Doesn’t Get Any Easier

summary: you’re the new physio, tasked to help leah one on one with her recovery; but lines start to blur the longer you spend with one another

warnings: none

a/n: i enjoyed this one. also trying out a slightly different style so let me know what you think

word count: 2.8k

-

Leah comes in every morning just after 7:30, always a little earlier than the rest of the team—well, what’s left of the team—who roll in around 8, give or take. You start noticing her patterns by the second week. It’s not intentional. It’s just that she’s hard not to notice. The way she slips into the room quietly, moving like a shadow, like she’s trying not to be seen even though she’s Leah Williamson and there’s something impossible about Leah Williamson going unnoticed. You’re not sure she’s aware of it, or maybe she is, maybe it’s part of the act, something people like her learn over time—how to balance being seen and unseen simultaneously. Either way, she always acknowledges you. It’s a brief nod or a soft “Morning” that comes out like a sigh. But it’s there. And you nod back because it’s professional, it’s polite.

You’re the new physio, brought in because someone higher up decided that ACLs are the new pandemic, and Arsenal’s hit hard by it. One by one, players dropping like flies—tears, rips, stretches that aren’t supposed to stretch. Someone needed to focus on rehab, on these slow and tedious one-on-one sessions. So, here you are. Your life has become a revolving door of knee braces, resistance bands, ultrasound machines, and cold compression therapy. A strange, repetitive kind of intimacy.

Leah is assigned to you. "Take care of her," they say. She’s a captain. She’s the face. There’s an unsaid urgency that comes with her, an invisible asterisk by her name. You feel it in every briefing, every passing mention of her progress. Everyone’s waiting for her return. Waiting for her to be fixed.

Your first session with her is awkward. Stilted. You’re overly conscious of how she sits, her knee elevated, her eyes on the ceiling, like she’s counting the tiles instead of looking at you. The air smells faintly of antiseptic and that weird plastic-y scent that medical equipment always has. You ask her the standard questions: pain level, range of motion, any stiffness. She answers with one-word responses, tight-lipped. There’s a distance between you that you can’t quite figure out if it’s professional or personal. Maybe both.

-

Weeks pass, and the routine becomes muscle memory. You know when to push and when to pull back. How to make her laugh, how to coax her into stretching just a little more without her getting defensive. You start to notice the little things about her. Like how she always wipes her hands on her shorts after you adjust the brace on her leg, or how she clicks her tongue when she’s frustrated, a soft noise that barely registers unless you’re paying attention, which you are. You’re always paying attention to Leah.

It’s in the middle of a session that things shift. You’re guiding her through a series of exercises—balance work, stuff that’s boring but essential—and she’s sweating, biting her lip as she focuses on not wobbling. You’re right there, hands out, ready to catch her if she stumbles. She doesn’t, but the proximity is there. Too close, maybe. Your fingers brush her waist as you correct her form, and she inhales sharply. You freeze, but she doesn’t move. Neither do you.

"Is this okay?" you ask, your voice lower than usual, and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s the weight of her stare, those sharp blue eyes locking onto yours.

"Yeah," she says, but her voice sounds strained, like she’s not sure it’s the right answer. She’s not looking at you anymore, her focus now on the floor, her hands gripping the sides of the bench like she needs to anchor herself. The room feels smaller, the air thick.

You pull back, step away, putting space between you, but it doesn’t feel like enough. You can still feel the echo of her skin under your fingers, the heat of her proximity. You clear your throat, force a smile. "Let’s take five”

She nods, doesn’t say anything, just grabs her water bottle and takes a long drink, her throat working, a bead of sweat rolling down her neck. You turn away, pretend to be adjusting something on the ultrasound machine even though it’s perfectly fine, just to give yourself something to do, something that isn’t thinking about how her skin felt under your hands.

-

The next time around is more tense. There’s an unspoken tension now, like a line has been crossed, or maybe it hasn’t, but it’s close. You’re hyper-aware of every movement, every brush of skin. Leah doesn’t mention it, but there’s a change in her too. She flirts, subtly at first—offhand comments, jokes that land just a little too close to something more. You laugh, play along, because it’s harmless. It’s nothing. Except it’s not.

You catch yourself watching her more. The way her muscles ripple under her skin as she moves, the way her lips part when she’s concentrating, how her eyes flick to you when she thinks you’re not looking. You wonder if she notices you doing the same. You wonder if she feels it too—this thing simmering between you that’s becoming harder to ignore.

One day, after a session, she lingers. The rest of the team has filtered out of the gym, and it’s just the two of you, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound.

"Thanks for today," she says, her voice soft. She’s sitting on the edge of the bench, her knee still wrapped in the brace, but she looks more relaxed than she has in weeks. There’s something in her eyes, something you can’t quite read, and it makes your chest tighten.

"It’s my job," you say, but the words feel hollow. You’ve been telling yourself that for weeks now, trying to convince yourself that this is just work, that this is just another injured player, another knee to fix. But it’s not. You’re not sure when it stopped being just that, but it has.

"Is it, though?" she asks, and her voice is lighter now, teasing, but there’s an edge to it. A challenge.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. "What do you mean?"

She stands, slowly, her movements careful, deliberate. She’s close to you now, too close again, and you don’t step back this time. "I think you know what I mean," she says, her eyes locked on yours, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something dangerous.

You don’t have an answer, or maybe you do but you don’t trust yourself to say it out loud. The air between you crackles with something electric, something that feels inevitable.

She leans in, just a fraction, and you freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. You could close the distance. You could kiss her, right here, right now, and no one would know. It would be easy. Too easy.

But you don’t.

Instead, you step back. You force a smile. "We should stick to the plan. Don’t want to push the knee too hard too soon”

It’s a cop-out, and you both know it. The shift in her expression is almost imperceptible, but you catch it—the brief flicker of disappointment before she masks it with a shrug.

"Right. The knee," she says, her tone casual, but the tension is still there, hanging between you like a thin thread ready to snap. She doesn’t push it, though. Instead, she grabs her bag, slings it over her shoulder, and heads for the door. But just before she leaves, she glances back at you, her eyes sharp, like she’s trying to figure you out, trying to decide if this is a game or something else entirely.

You stand there for a long time after she’s gone, the gym feeling too big, too empty. You can still feel the weight of her gaze, the heat of her body close to yours. You tell yourself it’s just work, just rehab. But deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

It’s never that simple.

-

The sessions after that are different. There’s a push and pull now, a tension that neither of you acknowledges but is impossible to ignore. Flirting turns into something sharper, more pointed, like you’re both testing the limits, seeing how far you can go before something breaks. But nothing breaks, not really. Not yet.

Then one night, you cross the line. It’s late, the training ground is empty, and Leah’s the last one in the gym. You’re both exhausted, worn down by weeks of slow progress, of frustrations mounting. The conversation starts off innocuous—something about her recovery timeline, how she’s feeling. But it shifts quickly. There’s an edge to her voice, a sharpness that cuts through the usual banter.

"Why do you keep pulling back?" she asks, and there’s nothing light in her tone now. It’s serious. She’s serious.

You blink, thrown off. It’s late, the harsh fluorescent lights above cast everything in this sterile, washed-out glow that makes you feel like you’re in a hospital, or some kind of waiting room where nothing feels real, nothing matters. Leah’s standing in front of you, close but not too close, not like before, but close enough that you feel it—the weight of her presence, the space she occupies, the air between you vibrating, charged with something neither of you is willing to name but it’s there. It’s been there for weeks. Maybe longer.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, but it’s a lie and you both know it. You’re tired, too tired to come up with something convincing, and it’s the way she’s looking at you now, like she’s seeing through every excuse you’ve built up, every wall you’ve thrown up between you because you know you have to, because you’re the physio, you’re supposed to be the professional, the one who stays detached, clinical, objective. You’re supposed to care about her body, her knee, not the rest of her. Not this.

But the truth is, you do care, too much, and it’s bleeding into everything. Into the way you touch her during sessions, the way your fingers linger just a little too long on her skin when you’re adjusting the brace, or the way your pulse speeds up when she leans back on the bench, sweat glistening on her forehead, the tendrils of her hair stuck to her neck, and you wonder what it would feel like to brush them away. You know you shouldn’t, that it’s a line you can’t cross, but the line’s blurred now, so faint you can barely see it anymore.

Leah narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s wearing an old Arsenal training kit, the fabric worn and soft, the logo faded from too many washes, and you notice that she tugs at the hem of her shirt when she’s frustrated, twisting it around her fingers like she’s trying to keep her hands busy, like she doesn’t know what else to do with them. “You’re not stupid,” she says, and her voice is sharp, but there’s something underneath it—something vulnerable, like she’s exposing a part of herself she doesn’t want to, but she can’t help it. “You know exactly what I mean”

She’s right. Of course she’s right. You’re not stupid. You know why you’ve been pulling back. Why you’ve been keeping your distance. It’s because this—whatever this is—is dangerous. It’s complicated. It’s wrong in a way that’s hard to define but easy to feel, like a low hum in the back of your mind that you can’t shake. And yet, the more you try to stay away, the more you find yourself drawn to her. Like gravity. Like something you can’t control, no matter how hard you try.

“It’s not that simple,” you say, and your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. You’re aware of how this looks—two people alone in a gym, the air thick with unspoken tension, the kind of tension that feels like it’s been building for a long time and is about to spill over. You glance at the clock on the wall—it’s almost 10 a.m.—and you wonder how it got so late, how time seems to bend around her, how hours slip by when you’re with her but still, its never enough. There’s always more, always something unsaid hanging in the air between you.

Leah uncrosses her arms, taking a step closer. You can see the faint scar on her knee, the way the skin’s still a little pink, a little raw, and it’s a reminder of why you’re here, what your job is, but all you can think about is the way her eyes are locked on yours, unflinching. “I’m not asking for simple,” she says quietly, and there’s an intensity in her voice that catches you off guard. “I’m asking for honest”

The word hangs in the air, heavy, and you feel something in your chest tighten. Honest. You think about what that would look like. What it would feel like to stop pretending, to stop playing this game where you act like you don’t notice the way she looks at you, the way your body reacts to hers. You think about what it would mean to cross that line, to give in to what’s been building between you. The consequences. The fallout. The way it would shift everything irreparably, and yet, the thought doesn’t scare you as much as it should.

You take a breath, slow, steady, trying to collect yourself, trying to find the right words, but they’re all tangled up in your head, a mess of things you can’t say, shouldn’t say. “Leah,” you start, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence, because there’s no good way to say what you’re thinking, no good way to explain the way your heart speeds up when she’s near, the way your skin prickles under her eyes, the way your mind drifts to her at night when you’re lying in bed, staring into the darkness, replaying moments in your head that shouldn’t matter but do.

She’s watching you, waiting, and you can feel the weight of her expectation, the way she’s daring you to say something real, something that matters. And maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re tired of pretending, tired of holding back, but something inside you cracks, just a little, just enough.

“I’ve been trying to keep this professional,” you say, and the words come out in a rush, tumbling over themselves like they’ve been waiting to escape. “Because I have to. Because I don’t know how else to do this without—” You stop, shaking your head, because it sounds ridiculous, it sounds like an excuse, and maybe it is. “It’s not just about your knee,” you say finally, and it feels like a confession, like something you’ve been holding onto for too long. “It’s about everything else”

Leah’s eyes widen, just for a moment, and you see something flicker across her face—surprise, maybe, or relief, or something else entirely. She doesn’t say anything right away, but she steps even closer, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of her sweat mixed with the scent of her shampoo, something clean and floral, and it hits you like a wave, overwhelming in its simplicity. You feel the pull again, stronger now, undeniable.

“You think I don’t know that?” she says, and her voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it, a sharpness that cuts through the haze in your mind. “You think I don’t feel it too?”

The words hang between you, suspended in the air, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the gym, the team, the world outside this room. It’s just you and her, and the weight of everything you haven’t said, everything you’ve been too scared to admit.

Leah reaches out, her fingers brushing against your arm, and the contact sends a jolt through you, a spark that ignites something deep inside, something you’ve been trying to suppress for weeks, months. You’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly, the space between you disappears, and her lips are on yours, and it’s like everything snaps into focus all at once.

The kiss is rough, urgent, like it’s been building for too long and now there’s no stopping it. Her hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat of her body against yours, the way her breath mingles with yours in the small, stolen space between kisses. It’s messy, frantic, like neither of you can get enough, like you’ve been starving for this and now you’re finally letting yourself have it.

You don’t think about the consequences, about what happens when this moment ends. You don’t think about the power imbalance, the lines you’re crossing, the mess you’re making. All you can think about is the way she feels against you, the way her fingers dig into your skin like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go.

[elllisaaa]

heyyy I’m the girl who had this request (OBSESSED with your work, as a 5 foot tall girl I would love to hear your thoughts on casual dominance and size kink for Seungmin) I was talking about Seungmin from Stray Kids ! my bad I should’ve specified 😅😅

no problem lovely ! i'm just glad i can write this because as a girl who's 5.2 ft tall AND seungmin biased, i cannot support you more on this 😭

SEUNGMIN with a SIZE KINK who loves the fact that you need his help all the time because you're so much smaller than him. even when it's mundane tasks like asking him to grab something from the higher shelves for you or opening the jar you cannot - even when it's just this, he cannot help but feel something more.

it really gets him going how he towers over you so easily, how he doesn't need to try for you to look smaller beside him in pictures. seungmin is always holding your hand, and you think it's cute, but if only you knew it's because he's obsessed with the way they're so small compared to his, obsessed with the way it must feel so good when he's the one fingering you. "your little fingers can't reach that deep, right ?" and you shake your head at him weakly, whimpers sleeping past your lips every time seungmin curls his fingers in the right angle to hit your sweet spot. "n-no ! feels better when it's yours…" - "that's what i thought."

it's also the way you're always relying on him, it's the way you always search for him when you need help, it's the way you're so obedient without him having to ask you anything. seungmin exudes dominance, he just has that vibes that makes you want to listen to him and drop to your knees without him telling you to. "fuck, you're such a good girl for me. i don't even need to tell you what to do." - "i just want to be good for you." and you're looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours while you're unzipping his jeans, helping him out of his clothes. once you get your hands on his heavy length, you can't let him go until he's cum down your throat. and it doesn't matter if he's too big for you, it doesn't matter if it hurts your jaw, it feels too good to stop. seungmin isn't going to tell you to stop either, loving the way you gag around him every time you try to take him deeper into your small mouth, loving the way your eyes fill up with tears from how big he is. "look at you baby, mouth already full with only half of my cock."

seungmin feels so powerful everytime he fucks you, because you're just so good for him, so perfect for him, so made for him, it's actually crazy. you say please everytime you want something, you never cum without his permission, even when he's being extra mean, you're always following his orders. so of course, he has to reward you, of course he has to bury his cock deep inside and compliment you about how pretty the bulge in your stomach is because he's still too big for you. "i can literally see my cock, baby." you whine when seungmin presses his hand down on the bulge, making the both of you feel even closer to the edge. "your pretty little cunt still can't take me, uh… that means i still have to train you, don't you think ?" - "ah ! yes, please minnie, i want more…" - "so greedy for my cock." and you are, but it's because you love how easy it is for seungmin to overpower you, how he has no trouble holding you down and pinning your hips to the mattress. and he loves it too, he loves how easy it is for him to take control, he loves how small you look underneath him. "shit, you're squeezing me so tight. you're close, aren't you ?" - "y-yes, so close, please, can i cum ? please, please i've been good !" - "mmh, that's right, the perfect girl for me, baby. go on, cum around my cock." and you do what he says, because whenever seungmin tells you something, you can only follow along.

[shaisuki]

pleasantries

CONTENT WARNINGS. anxiety + references of cheating + power play

NOTE. yay! updated this one and more to come? seriously i don't know how to continue this.

SYNOPSIS.

chapters one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

you hate overtime. you finally understand what nanami meant when he said it to you one time while he visited you to look after the twins. you remember it was a cold night and he's hanging his coat in a spare chair of your house while the twins were still crawling. their little bodies wrapped around your legs, afraid that you'll leave them but you won't. they're just that clingy and needy to you, their mother. you appreciate nanami when he took the time to look after the twins like they were his own but you thrown that thought away. you made clear that as much as you appreciate nanami when he helps you of raising the twins, it is not his responsibility. it is yours and nanami respected that which you are grateful for.

late nights at this office made you miss the twins and haibara and nanami. you began to wonder what they're doing right now. the twins were surely sleeping after being tucked by their uncle haibara and nanami, you were not so sure. he could just be out and doing his stuff. the unfinished paperworks was sure you were not getting home anytime soon but certain circumstances may push you to finish this tasking paperworks.

your eyes glazed at the screen in front of you. not even the blue light saved you from getting your eyes strained and the impending headache is already building up throughout your skull. a soft hiss leaving your mouth as you blink your eyes and taking your eyes off the screen. you need to take a break, away from this.

“take a break, will you?” a voice popped beside you. playful and concerned the tone is but it almost made your heart crash and your body freeze. a shaky breath escaping your lips. from your reaction it was like a serial killer hunting you had found you and got you cornered with no means of escape. a thousand anamnesis briefly flashed through every corners of your brain. the long buried came surfacing and it took was just his and presence of your former bully now ceo of the company where you work at.

you firmly planted your feet on the floor before using it as a leverage to push the chair you sit to gain a not-so-rude distance to your boss. placing your hands in your lap before clenching it to fist to calm yourself and to stop the small tremors of your hands. might as well to stop your legs from bouncing. “i-i was about to. i'm c-close to finishing.” you stammer. wincing at the way you spoke internally and trying not to cringe.

the dimness of the office floor and the sudden drop of temperature didn't do anything to ease your nervousness and realizing that you were the only one left except with him. the dark glasses he wore did nothing to conceal the color of his eyes and it was lighter with the dimness surrounding both of you. it only brought you bad memories and you don't want to lose composure because of it. “you didn't change. you were always the diligent one. keep doing that and you will might be my favorite employee.” he scoffs at what he said. clearing his throat. “scratch that, you are my favorite.” grabbing a nearby chair for him to sit down and the chair seems to be smaller than it was from the his huge stature made it. he sat and faces you. your knees almost bumping but you recoiled at the closeness.

it didn't escape gojo's gaze at the action. a pang of a pain that he didn't recognize blooms in his heart and he didn't like it. he was sure the building would be empty minus the staffs who maintains the cleanliness in their designated spot. he was wrong. when he stops at your floor to check up on you or think of whatever gift he can leave at your desk, he found you. working tirelessly at whatever work you need to do. thus, a chance was presented to him. it's a chance to get you closer and crack the tough exterior you have. he was redeeming himself to you. however it was difficult seeing how you defend yourself from him. afraid that he'll harm you again but it was past like that. he wasn't his past self and so are you.

“are you not going home?” you ask him. he gave you a quick shake of his head. “i'm not until you're finished.” he reasons. part of it true and a lie. there's no rush to go home when all that awaits for him is the coldness of his penthouse. spacious and designed for his taste. it's devoid of warmth and sayuri wasn't too fond of it and he wasn't with his fiancee. sayuri's spoiled and even with the few hints of her being there, it bothers him. what he needs is someone. someone who can share a home with him and the answer's in front of him.

there's no use arguing to him. he's your boss and you can't say that his presence is unneeded and you did what's best. ignoring him like he didn't exist but it's impossible that he's dead staring at you. watching your every move. waiting for you to fumble and that brings the unnecessary anxiety you have been feeling lately.

since when's the last time he had the chance to look at you like this, gaze at you like you hung the moon and stars and even more than three years had passed since he last saw you, there isn't a bit that you had changed except maybe for the weight that you gained more and the look in your eyes. despite the uncertainty with how things have been for you since you stepped in his company and meeting them two, there's a look of fierceness in them like you're protecting someone and needing the strength to protect them and it's the look he have seen from his mother. a thousand times she did when he needs her. shielding from his father's demanding orders about him being his protege, his heir. the days would come back haunt him if his father had seen as his son. his blood and nothing else but a child of his own.

it's a memory he didn't want to think of, now he took over of his family's legacy. he should be focusing on what's present in front of him and he gladly drowns in your presence. looking at you and memorizing every inch of your features. still in his position he can see that natural eyelashes of yours, the roundness of your eyes and when they look at him, he gets a little weak. gojo would like to brush his nose against to yours. feel the roundness of your cheeks like he did when you slept in a little the morning after he and suguru had ravaged you. takes a glance at your sleeping figure and he didn't realize that he was already admiring you and he would like to kiss you once again. the softness of your lips in his while he takes you fully. it will come a long way before he can do that again. forgiveness isn't a easy thing to do and he regrets it a little bit of how he treated you.

enthralled by the menial tasks you were doing, the beep of the monitor shutting down brought him back. you were packing up and sorting the folders and putting them by the small rack of your desk for tomorrow's use. you didn't wait for him after you've slotted your chair below the space of your desk. walking towards the elevators and he follows suit. pressing the button for ground floor. there's only a ding and then the casual whir of the elevator. none of you dared to break the silence despite gojo's chatty nature. not wanting to make you uncomfortable furthermore and he only looks at the reflection of you both in the elevator doors.

ding!

the elevator stopped before opening its doors. you both stepped out and made way through the exit of the building. the cold night air hits you both. nipping the skin that is left uncovered. the young ceo glanced at his watch before looking at you. “shall i escort you home?” you were quick to dismiss his offer. “no, thank you. i can take myself home.” you say before leaving him in front of the glass doors of his building. you take a pause to your steps. contemplating and you hope you're not going to regret what you're about to say. “thank you for staying with me until i got my work done but please don't make it a habit. i don't want trouble.” you told him. “have a good night.” you slightly bowed as a sign of respect to him, not as a person but as an employee.

you didn't gave him room to reply and you were off. down to the direction of the nearest train station. his car already in front of him before the valet stepped out to give him his keys and before he took off. his blue eyes shimmer behind his dark glasses until he can see no longer of your retreating figure.

the chains make a clanging sound. resonating in the empty room and there's a sharp rattle of the chains mixed with the sound it was making as the sandbag was swung in different directions. it rounded into a circular motion until it was back again to the cause of the movement. steely purple eyes fixated on the poor equipment and anticipating the movement of it coming back to him, his fist collided with it again. followed by more and with a harsh punch, the sandbag broke the chain where it was attached. toppling on the corner with a thud and that was the cue for him to stop. the equipment no longer useful to him.

geto swiped a sweat in his forehead. finding the end of the strip of the cloth wrapped around his hands before pulling it and dumping it to the trash bin. he take a bottled water for him to drink and plopped down the couch. before his lips can taste the water, his phone rang. the caller id flashing in the screen of his phone and geto sighs before swiping to answer the call.

“any progress?” he say without greetings. anticipating the answer on the other end and he hears a shuffle before it was answered. “barely. she's avoiding me. i managed to stay with her after i found out she was staying late.” he can hear the frustrated tone of his friend. “she told me i shouldn't do it. she don't want to be in trouble.” gojo huffs. annoyed how the night ended but at least you talked to him even it was brief. “you are trouble.” suguru chuckles before turning into one of a serious. “it doesn't help you're her boss and you're engaged. they will talk and you know the jealous fits your fiancee have.” gojo rolls his eyes. wiping the fogged mirror he was staring his reflection at. “i know and that means, it's going well with you?” he bites his tongue to stop the sarcastic tone he was about to unleash.

geto thought about it. his past encounters with you and slowly, you were trusting him. it wasn't the result he wanted cause he can be impatient at times and he's dying to feel you once again but progress is still progress. “yeah. she's slowly accepting me.” gojo scoffs and geto hears it. “you want her to open up to you? stop being an entitled asshole to her. show her you're not your past self. being sincere won't cost you anything.” it have and gojo winces at it.

“satoru?” geto hears a feminine voice in the background and he ends the call before he can hear anything else. he thinks of you. he should take you on a date sometimes. one you can't refuse and show you a good time and treat you the way you deserve and see that smile he have been wanting. directed to him and only him. he's the only one that can make you smile and you won't need gojo. he looks at the time. he should be planning to make you his, again.

there's a sudden beep signalling that the call was ended. gojo turned around only to meet his fiancee. standing in the bathroom door. her perfume reeks and her loose waves daintily passed around her shoulders. wearing only a thin nightgown and gojo hides the distaste he have for her. this was an arrangement. both of the families agreed it should be done. sayuri was only her for the night and he can live that. “aren't you going to bed?" her voice too sweet for his tastes. he likes your better. sweet and gentle compared to sayuri's. “just a second.” he says before turning off the light switch and joining her.

“how's your day?”

“the usual.” her fingers came rubbing circles in his chest. she intentionally pulls the straps of her thin nightgown and he wasn't really in the mood and how he can be when all he can think is you. fuck. maybe he can use sayuri and pretend it was you but the delicate features of his fiancee isn't the same as you. a tiny waist and a handful of flesh he can grab. it wasn't enough. he needs you. full and ripe for him to tear apart while you cry his name. he rubs his eyes and looks at sayuri. it would be only temporary. “sayuri?” he call to her. the girl besides him was all ears. “yes?” he would be in trouble if he was to call your name instead of her. “come here.” and without hesitation her lips was on his.

now's the world is getting smaller to you three and you have no excuses of avoiding them. you can endure it. you endured it for the quarter of your whole life, what's the difference if you can do it one more again. now the stakes are higher and you're risking the existence of your children with them. you don't know how it will end but you know you have to protect your twins even it's the last thing you will do.

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade @definetlythinkimanalien @thulhu @mastermasterlist1p1

[missdollcouture]

hi lele!! Please provide me tips on how to get through a slump ✌️💕🙈

Hi lanny!! ofc!

HOW TO GET OUT OF A SLUMP

So first off, to get out of a slump, it's important to acknowledge that it's a common experience that most people go through at some point in their lives. Feeling unmotivated, uninspired, or stuck can be difficult.

TAKE A BREAK: Allow yourself to take a step back and rest. Taking time off to relax and recharge is essential for your overall well being. Try to do some activities that bring you joy and help you de-stress.

START SETTING GOALS: By setting little goals at a time it makes your tasks less overwhelming and more manageable for you to complete. As you complete these smaller goals, you'll regain a sense of accomplishment and motivation. No matter how small the goal is, you're still making progress.

ENCOURAGEMENT: Try to find encouragement and motivation to do things like watch someone influential that brings you good vibes and positivity to get your stuff done.

SWITCH UP YOUR ROUTINE: This step really works for me when I'm in a slump, sometimes, a change in routine can help break the monotony and stimulate your mind. By introducing novelty into your routine, you may find yourself feeling more inspired and motivated.

SELF CARE: Another thing that works for me is having a moment (or a few moments) of self care, mentally and physically. Taking care of yourself physically, emotionally, and mentally is crucial when you're in a slump.

Getting out of a slump is a process, and it's okay to have ups and downs along the way. Focus on progress, not perfection. With time and effort, you'll find yourself gradually emerging from the slump and regaining your motivation and inspiration.

I hope you gain more motivation and get back on your it girl grind lanny 💝

[fatalhoon]

jisung headcanons — random relationship things

warnings | not much, very fluffy! one mention of reader being smaller than him, one swear word, one tiny nsfw mention, g!n overall but reader is described as having hair long enough to tie up/braid and does their makeup

a.n | i need him :((

this cute lil mf i adore him

first of all he’s such a silly little goober

he’s shy so it takes him a while to get used to being completely authentic around you

but eventually he’ll relax when he knows for certain that you love him exactly how he is and he can be himself

he strikes me as the type to do the dumbest little things just so he can hear you laugh

a few examples:

sometimes when you’re kissing, out of nowhere he’ll blow air into your mouth to puff up your cheeks

he never does it during more serious and truly intimate moments (he can read the room)

but when he does it catches you off guard every time and it always sends you into a giggle fit because its just so stupid

you’ll go in to kiss him again but now you think he’s just gonna do it again even if he promises he won’t so you can’t continue without laughing

“i’m not even doing anything!” he pouts

but seeing you so giggly about something he did just makes him so happy (and proud)

if you’re sitting somewhere he’ll come over and just

sit on you

straight up knock the wind out of you and shuffle around, groaning like he can’t get comfortable

and act like he’s completely oblivious to the fact he’s literally using you as a cushion

he’ll pull out his phone and text you like “hey where are you :(“

and he pretends he can’t hear you if you try and talk to him

its already really hard for him to keep a straight face when he does this so all you have to do is tickle him

then he has to acknowledge you

“omg hi i didn’t even see you there!! :))”

in the same vein, he’ll come up to you while you’re standing and just flop his full weight onto you in a hug

if you clock it before it happens you’ll have to adjust your stance or grab onto something so you don’t fall over

but if you don’t then uh. good luck soldier

(just kidding he’ll catch you)

you do the same thing to him but he’s bigger and it doesn’t have the same effect on him

he loves it anyway though, he’ll drop anything he’s doing to wrap an arm around your waist

another thing he likes to do is use your hands to do things for him

like he’ll grab your hands and move them around, so really its still him doing it he’s just using your hands instead

mostly when he’s on his phone or if he’s playing a game

he holds your hand which holds his phone, and grabs your finger to scroll through his feed

or he’ll have you in front of him and gives you the game controller, reaching around you to puppet your hands

if you’re wearing a hoodie he shoves his arms through the sleeves with yours to make it easier

you’re more than likely wearing his hoodie anyway so he says its only fair that you share it

i’m a physical touch jisung truther if you couldn’t tell

he must always be touching you in some capacity

scientists have not proven why yet but the working theory is that jisung is a certified cutie

he just loves being close to you!! so physical affection is the best way to remind himself that you’re here with him :’)

canonically, jisung is a wanderer

he’ll trail around with no real destination in mind

he just has lots of thoughts in his head and likes to walk while he sorts them out

sometimes he’ll hold your hand and make you walk around with him if he’s feeling clingy (which is often)

other times he’ll just let you be

but he always kisses your cheek or your head when he passes by

absolutely the type to cling to you while you’re in the middle of a task and shuffle around the house with you

its just a little hard for him to sit still sometimes

even if he is sitting still, his hands are not

and i reiterate, he likes to be touching you in some way, so more often than not he’ll be playing with your fingers or your hair

jisung is also a canon rambler

mostly to himself

if you’re there he doesn’t expect a reply because really he’s just talking to himself

but if you have an opinion on the topic he’ll always listen

if he’s talking about something and you happen to fall asleep he keeps the conversation going by himself

once you told him that his talking made its way into your dream and you had a full blown rant about aliens with him while you were asleep

it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard

sometimes he’ll be so excited to say something that he’ll cut you off

he doesn’t mean to, it just comes out a little sooner than he means for it to, and he always apologizes

he gets better about that as time goes on

he has a habit of imitating things you say

not in the sense that he’s mocking you, he just likes the way it sounds when you say it so he tries to parrot it

he’ll do that with certain facial expressions you make too

jisung is a curious boy, and he loves to learn everything he can about the people he loves

he watches your favorite movies and shows with you, he takes the time to participate in your hobbies, he lets you take him to all of your favorite places

so he can get a glimpse into the aspects of your life that make you happy

his favorite thing though is watching you play your favorite video games

if you’re gaming he insists that you sit on his lap or between his legs so he can wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder

he’s a little bit of a backseat gamer but you don’t really mind

its a bit annoying when he nags you about continuously losing a fight or dying on the same level (you know he means well)

but you love the input he gives on more slice of life type games, like decorating your animal crossing island or farming your crops in stardew valley

he did however just about have a heart attack when you showed him how many ways you knew how to kill a sim

co op games are one of his favorite ways to spend time with you as well

especially if one or both of you are absolutely shit at it (which if we’re being honest is like 95% of the time)

overcooked, however, is dangerous territory

too many soups burned

anyway, his curiosity doesn’t stop at just your hobbies and interests

even mundane things like daily habits and routines are things that jisung wants to know all about

along the way he’s picked up on such small things that you barely remember ever mentioning them

all of your preferences are filed away in his head

whenever you’re doing something like your hair or makeup or skincare, he’ll sit with you and ask what every aspect of it is or does

eventually he’ll ask if you can teach him how to do them for you

it definitely required a little.. practice

but no one is perfect the first time they try something new!!

(you had to tell him that, even he didn’t let you leave the house the first time he did your makeup)

he gets better though, especially doing your hair!

to the point that he got tired of doing simple ponytails and braids and took it upon himself to research new hairstyles to teach himself

you found it very endearing :’)

jisung loves to shower together

less in a sexual way (though he isn’t opposed) and more because it feels so intimate and domestic to him

and he adores when you wash his hair for him

feeling you gently massaging in the shampoo and scratching at his scalp is probably his favorite feeling in the whole world

in conclusion

jisung would be so sweet and clingy i love him to death :((

[theapollochronicles]

Silco x Vastaya reader 🥺👉👈 pretty pls ty

didn’t give me much to work with but hope you enjoy! you’re one of my firsts requests :D @theberserkerwithin

𝐄𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 | 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐜𝐨

“You can't buy this fineness

Let me see the heat get to it

Let me watch the dressing start to peel

It's a kindness, Highness

Crumbs enough for everyone

Old and young are welcome to the meal,”

pairing: silco x gn!vastaya!reader

summary: silco was a promising man with a demanding position in the undercity, but he had a hard time showing his true emotions to the people around him.

warnings: teen!jinx x reader (platonic), takes place before season one, mentions of violence (if you squint), smoking, some fluff & angst.

The hum of the fish tank filled Silco’s office, blending with the quiet creak of wooden beams overhead. You leaned casually against the desk, arms crossed, while Silco sat in his chair, reviewing a pile of reports. Your cat-like ears twitched as a faint creak sounded above you—a familiar presence settling into the wooden beams that crisscrossed the ceiling, but neither of you acknowledged her yet.

“She’s been up there for the past ten minutes,” you said under your breath, glancing upward.

“I’m aware,” Silco replied without looking up from his papers. “She likes to imagine she’s invisible.”

“I am invisible!” Jinx’s voice rang out, cutting through the stillness. Her legs dangled into view from the wooden pillars above, her tone both playful and defensive.

“You’re as invisible as Sevika’s temper,” you retorted, earning a low chuckle from Silco.

Jinx groaned, leaning down further so her head peeked into view. Her light blue eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was an underlying earnestness to her gaze. “I’m observing. That’s important, right? You always say I need to pay attention.”

Silco’s pen paused mid-stroke, his mismatched eyes shifting to the girl above. “Paying attention doesn’t mean lurking, Jinx. If you have something to say, come down and say it.”

She hesitated for a moment before swinging down, landing lightly on her feet. Straightening up, she adjusted her posture, trying to appear taller, older. “I’m not a kid anymore, you know. I can handle the serious stuff.”

“You’re growing up,” you agreed, your tone gentle. “But that doesn’t mean you can skip steps. You have to earn trust if you want to take on more responsibility.”

“I can earn it,” she insisted, her voice firm but laced with vulnerability. She looked between you and Silco, seeking approval. “You and Silco trust me, don’t you?”

Silco leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Trust is not a gift, Jinx. It’s a currency. And like any currency, it must be guarded carefully. You’ve proven yourself before, but you’ve also been reckless.”

Her expression faltered briefly, but she quickly masked it with a grin. “That’s because being careful is boring. And boring doesn’t get results.”

“Recklessness doesn’t either,” you countered. “Look, you’re creative. Smarter than most people give you credit for. But you have to show them you can channel that energy the right way.”

Jinx shifted, crossing her arms. “You sound like her.”

The room fell silent at her words, the weight of the unspoken name heavy in the air.

“Vi isn’t here,” Silco said evenly, his voice a quiet warning.

“I know that!” Jinx snapped, her expression a mix of frustration and hurt. “I don’t need her! I’ve got you. I’ve got Y/N.” She turned to you, her voice softening. “Right?”

You stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. “You have us,” you said gently. “But you don’t have to prove anything to us, Jinx. We already see how much you’ve grown.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained determined. “I want more than that. I want everyone else to see it too.”

“They will,” you assured her. “In time.”

Silco watched the exchange in silence, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured. “If you want to be taken seriously, start by handling smaller tasks without complaint. Prove you can follow through, and I’ll consider giving you more.”

Jinx blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Okay! Deal.”

“Good.” Silco leaned forward, returning his attention to the papers on his desk. “Now go. Sevika is waiting for you.”

Jinx wrinkled her nose. “She’s so bossy.”

“She’s capable,” Silco corrected, not looking up.

Jinx muttered something under her breath but gave you a quick smile before heading for the door. As she reached it, she paused, glancing back. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Always,” you said with a small smile.

Once the door closed behind her, the room fell quiet again. Your ears straightened, turning to face Silco.

“You were a bit soft on her,” you teased lightly, crossing your arms.

“She’s determined to grow up too quickly,” he said simply, though his voice softened just slightly. “I won’t push her, but I also won’t let her stay a child forever.”

“She doesn’t have to stay a child,” you replied, moving to lean against the desk again. “But she needs to feel safe enough to grow.”

Silco didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he returned to his work, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The air in the Chem-Barons’ meeting room was heavy with tension and smoke. Silco sat at the head of the table, his usual composed demeanor a stark contrast to the chaotic personalities around him. You stood to his left, leaning casually against the wall with your arms crossed, your large, cat-like ears twitching occasionally as you listened to the barons’ chatter. Sevika stood on Silco’s other side, her imposing figure a silent warning to anyone who might think to challenge him.

The Chem-Barons discussed logistics, turf disputes, and shipments of shimmer, but the underlying current of mistrust was palpable.

“I’ve got to ask, Silco,” Finn finally spoke, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated smirk. His tone was as casual as his words were calculated. “Why bring your lackeys here?” He gestured lazily at you and Sevika. “Do you need them to hold your hand, or are you just showing off?”

The room fell silent. Sevika’s jaw tightened, her cybernetic arm whirring faintly as her fingers flexed. Your ears flicked toward Finn, though you didn’t move from your spot against the wall.

Silco didn’t respond immediately. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the armrest as his mismatched eyes fixed on Finn.

“Careful, Finn,” he said at last, his voice calm but laced with venom. “You’re beginning to sound like someone who thinks they’re irreplaceable.”

Finn chuckled, clearly trying to play off the tension. “Oh, come on. I’m just saying, it’s interesting, isn’t it? You trust them enough to bring them into our space, but not enough to speak for themselves.”

Before Sevika could step forward, you placed a hand on her shoulder, a silent gesture to keep her in check. Your sharp gaze locked onto Finn, your cat-like eyes narrowing.

“They don’t speak because they don’t need to,” Silco said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “When they act, they leave no room for discussion. You’d do well to remember that, Finn.”

Finn’s smirk faltered, the weight of Silco’s words settling over the room.

“Let’s move on,” Silco said curtly, dismissing the conversation and returning his focus to the papers in front of him.

The rest of the meeting continued without further incident, though the tension remained thick in the air.

Later, back at the Last Drop, the silence in Silco’s office was almost deafening. You leaned against his desk, arms crossed, watching him as he stood by the fish tank, the dim light casting long shadows across the room.

“Finn shouldn’t have tried anything,” Silco said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that you recognized all too well. “The man has a penchant for testing boundaries, but that was… reckless.”

You tilted your head slightly, your ears flicking as you regarded him. “You handled it.”

“Not as much as I wanted to,” he admitted, turning to face you. “I could’ve said worse. Should’ve, perhaps. But meetings like that require… restraint.” He spat the last word like it was poison.

You smirked faintly, the tip of your tail curling as you watched him pace. “That restraint is what keeps the Chem-Barons in line. Finn likes to provoke, but he doesn’t understand the cost of pushing too far. You do.”

Silco stopped pacing, his gaze settling on you. For a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased, and the sharpness in his expression softened just slightly. “And yet, I find myself tempted to forget that cost when it comes to you.”

The admission hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. You blinked, your ears lowering slightly as you processed his words.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” you said, your voice softer now.

“I know,” he replied, his tone uncharacteristically warm. His gaze flickered to your ears, his mismatched eyes briefly betraying something deeper. “But I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting what’s mine.”

The room seemed smaller in that moment, the space between you shrinking despite neither of you moving. You held his gaze, your tail flicking absently.

“Yours, huh?” you said lightly, trying to cut the tension.

He smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “In every way that matters.”

You allowed yourself a small smile, stepping away from the desk and brushing past him toward the door. “Good thing I don’t need you to fight my battles. But… I don’t mind you trying.”

His gaze lingered on you as you left the room, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. Once the door clicked shut behind you, Silco returned to his desk, his composure restored, though his thoughts remained far from the shimmer trade.

[bloomzone]

Feeling Overwhelmed? You're Not Alone. Let's Talk About It..

I know we all go through it. You’re balancing school, friends, family, and everything else, and suddenly, it feels like you're carrying the weight of the world. Lately, I've been feeling burned out, overwhelmed, and like everything is piling up at once. With school stress, exams, and the constant pressure to keep up, I sometimes feel like I can’t breathe. It's exhausting, and I'm sure some of you feel the same.

It’s so easy to get stuck in the cycle of trying to do everything perfectly. Every time you think you’ve got it under control, something else comes at you, and you’re back to square one and YES THIS IS ANNOYING!!!. It's like there’s a never-ending list of things to do, and no matter how hard you work, you never seem to catch a break.

And the worst part? The pressure from others. Whether it's friends, classmates, or even family, there's always someone asking you for help. Sometimes I feel like I’m the go-to person for everything—assignments, questions, last-minute requests. And don’t get me wrong, I want to be helpful, but it can get draining. Especially when you're trying to hold it together and just need a little space for yourself

For example:Today I couldn’t catch a break already stressed about exams, and in desperate need of rest. Just as I sat down to breathe, the calls and messages started.

One of my classmates began spamming me with messages, asking about a history and geography exam date that we ALL already knew. Then, another classmate began asking for English assignment answers. She wouldn’t stop. She kept sending, “Hi, hi, hi, hi…” over and over until I caved and responded.When I finally sent her the answers, her response? “Ahh, what would I do without you? You’re a lifesaver!” And while I know she meant it kindly, it felt so heavy I feel guilty. What about MY life? What about my peace?

In that moment, I realized how much I was giving to others and how little I was leaving for myself. I was pouring all my energy into helping everyone else while I was running on empty

And plus I’ve been in those moments when you’ve studied hard for an exam, thought you’re finally catching up, and then suddenly—a change happens. A test gets rescheduled, an assignment gets pushed to the last minute, and it feels like everything you worked for was just... wasted. I get it. And it’s okay to feel frustrated and angry about it. You’re allowed to feel this way. It doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human.

But here’s something I’ve been reminding myself lately: I am not responsible for everyone else's stress. It’s okay to say no, it’s okay to take a break, and it’s okay to not always have everything figured out. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish; it’s necessary.

Here 5 Tips That Are Helping Me Cope with Stress and Burnout

1. Set Boundaries and Protect Your Energy: I’ve learned that it’s okay to say no. If someone’s asking for help, and you’re already feeling stretched thin, it’s okay to tell them, “I can’t right now.” You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you deserve your time and energy as much as anyone else does.

2. Don’t Overload Yourself—Take It One Step at a Time: Break your tasks into smaller, more manageable chunks. Don’t try to do everything at once—focus on one thing at a time. It makes the workload feel less daunting and more achievable. One task, one hour at a time.

3. Rest is Not a Luxury, It’s a Necessity: Sometimes we push ourselves too hard because we think we’ll get behind if we take a break. But if you don’t rest, you’ll burn out. Give yourself permission to step away, even for just 10 minutes. Watch a comforting youTube video, take a walk, or close your eyes. A little time for yourself can give you the energy to come back even stronger.

4. Talk About Your Feelings—Don't Bottle It Up: If you’re feeling overwhelmed, don’t keep it inside. Talk to someone, whether it’s a friendu trust family member, or even just writing in a journal like I do ..Putting your feelings into words can make a huge difference. It clears your mind and helps you see things from a new perspective.

5. Make Time for Self-Care: It’s easy to forget to take care of yourself when everything is going wrong. But self-care isn’t just about face masks and bubble baths (although that helps!). It’s about doing things that recharge you—reading, listening to music, or even just doing nothing. Find what makes you feel lighter and make time for it.

Let’s Take the Pressure Off Ourselves.

I know the world often tells us we have to be constantly productive, constantly moving forward. But the truth is, you don’t have to hustle all the time. It’s okay to slow down, take a breather, and focus on your well-being. The world will still be there when you're ready to take the next step. You are not a machine pookie. You are human, and you deserve peace.We’re not alone in this, even though it sometimes feels like we are. Everyone’s going through something, and sometimes just knowing that you’re not alone in your struggles can make a huge difference.Remember, it’s okay to not have it all together. It’s okay to be tired, to feel burnt out, to not always know what’s next. Life is hard, but you’re still here, still fighting, and that’s something to be proud of. I'm so proud of you

© bloomzone

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back to work but still hurting.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 

The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 

You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 

The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 

“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 

“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 

He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 

“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 

You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 

You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 

“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  

“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 

“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 

“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 

“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 

“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 

“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 

“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 

“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 

“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 

“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 

“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 

You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 

“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  

“Sure,” you agree thinly. 

You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 

He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 

“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 

“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 

Me neither, you think. 

“Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 

“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 

“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 

“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 

“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 

You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 

“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  

It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 

He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 

💗

You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 

You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 

“Almost done?” He asks. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 

“Washed up?” He echoes. 

“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 

“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 

He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 

“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 

He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 

“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 

You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You should come...” he mumbles. 

“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You have nowhere to go. 

He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 

“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 

You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 

His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 

He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 

The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 

You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 

You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 

You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 

The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 

“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 

“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 

He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 

“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 

“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 

“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 

“Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 

You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 

You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 

“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 

You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 

“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  

His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 

“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 

You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 

“You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.”